India's curtain call

This is Mr. here.

With only 3 days left in India I have decided to return to a more reader friendly quick notes version and leave most stories for face to face. We just returned from Bandhavgarh National Park and my ultimate mission in India has been accomplished. I have seen a tiger in the wild (2 actually). Let me digress for a moment, as I am a conservationist, and say that it is very possible that these majestic animals will be extinct in the wild in 20 years. It is hard to believe that such a thing can happen now a days but there is too much pressure from people wanting land to cultivate, cattle wanting grass to graze, chinese medicine makers wanting tiger body parts and bones while Japanese, Korean, Chinese and even Westerners wanting the skins as trophies. I wonder when it will sink in that animals such as these can not be replaced and when gone are gone forever.

Anyways, on to the quick notes:

-I think our guide in Bandhavgarh said it best: "All of India is a toilet" when we said we might need the loo on our 5 hour safari. Nuff said. For details, ask us. Otherwise, let's just say that I have seen everything happen everywhere imaginable.

- Indians rarely smile in photographs.

- All Indian college students are studying to be doctors or engineers

- EVERYONE here (women included) take every opportunity to spit, hock, throat clear, and burp. It is not given a second glance and seems to be not in the least offensive.

- It is a custom for men and boys to walk down the street (or anywhere) holding hands. It is taboo for man and woman (even husband and wife) to do it. Oh, and the country is VERY homophobic.

- Women love to talk to Marci, Guys talk to me. The kicker is that as soon as I approach the women cease talking to Marci.

- There is a billion people here who own millions of cattle. Weird thing is that NO cows are eaten and they are rarely milked, if at all. Yet they are still prized possessions that simply eat up useful vegetation.

- Indians are FABULOUS hosts. There is a saying in Sanskrit (root of Hindi) to treat guests as gods - with the meaning that you never know when gods may come disguised as guests. Boy, does it show. They won't accept money, gifts or thanks but will spend every last dollar of theirs to make sure you feel at home and are fed and happy. It is a good lesson for us, and anyone really. It is something I will always take with me as often such kindness came at very needed times.

- SIDE NOTE: (Not related to India) It is thoroughly impossible for me to avoid mosquito bites.

- The whole country is crazy for cricket. One game takes 7-8 hours!!!! It is one of many remnants of British occupation readily observable here.

- The main god (Ganesh) has an elephant head and four arms, loves sweets, and has a mouse for his "vehicle" The Main goddess (Durga) has 4 arms, rides a tiger, vanquishes demons, and is married to "The Destroyer"

-SIDE STORY: On Diwali, the BIG night to pray and party (imagine July 4th crossed with Christmas) families pray to Ganesh and Lakshmi-the goddess of money and prosperity) by setting up shrines. The process involves splashing water on their idols, then placing fruits, nuts, rice, sweets, at the idols feet before lighting candles, prayng and swirling a "smoke tray" toward them.

When it was my turn I reached to far when offered the fruit and knocked over Ganesh to the horror of our hosts and to the eternal glee of my wife who has still not stopped laughing.

Next stop Paris.

Diwali in a Sari

I'm not quite sure when I decided that I hated everything "girly." All things pink went out the window in my quest to be "tough". But over the years I have given myself permission to indulge in feminine frills. There is just something about silk and lace and even the color pink that calls to me. This weekend I got an Indian dose of girly-girlness.

We spent Diwali with a friend named Shweta. Its a festival of color and lights. Houses are decorated in colorful lights, bright fireworks light up the sky and the tile floors are decorated with bright powered chalk. People are expected to be equally decorated. So Shweta and I went shopping for a sari. Now a sari is quite a miraculous invention. Its basically a long piece of material that is artfully wrapped and folded into a stunning formal dress. The ladies here wear them all the time and it is such a relief to see a clean colorful sari amid all the dust and rubbish that fill every other space here in India. I selected a pinkish-purple silk sari with golden thread sewn with sequins in the shape of a peacock. I thought it was beautiful. That girly-girl in me loved getting all dressed up. I felt like a princess sparkling in pink and gold!

To add to the festivities, Shweta's mother painted my feet (a tradition for married women on special occasions)and gave me the tikka to wear on my forehead. I was ready to do some celebrating! We painted the floor with colored chalk, lit firecrackers, and ate sweets in the name of Ganesh and Lakshmi. I wished I could wear a sari everyday. What ever happened to unrelenting femininity in our country? Do you think I could get away with wearing my sari there?

Meet my daughter Rinki

As we walked through the door we were greeted with flowers, freshly picked from the yard and tied together with string. Rinki gave each of us our own bouquet. Her mother stood in the doorway blowing a conch shell to mark our arrival. Next she took a little dish with a shimmering paste and dabbed a bit onto each of our foreheads, a blessing to keep us safe. Finally she touched each of our feet, bringing her hands to her forehead, showing respect to her elders as is the tradition. She was wearing a clean pink dress, had a sparkling tikka on her forehead and the smallest diamond in her nose. She brought her hands together in front of her to greet us with Namaskar. She looked pretty and shy and smiled at us with curiosity. This was Rinki, the girl I sponsored almost two years ago, who I like to refer to as my adopted daughter. She fulfills a certain need I have to nurture, to give something back. For me she represents all the little faces that I have seen and have not been able to help. I was very much looking forward to meeting her and her family.

They live a little village called Naiti which is on the outskirts of Kolkata (formerly Calcutta). I arranged the visit with Children International, the organization that manages the sponsorships. The project director picked us up from our Kolkata hotel and drove us out to the village where she lives. On the way the director answered questions about the program and the culture and the hardships that poor people face here in India. Poverty is not uncommon here. You see it everywhere. We stopped at a train crossing and a swarm of children who matched the dirty, dusty road swarmed around us begging for food and money. It’s really heartbreaking. That is why I feel so good supporting this organization. They help people help themselves. They offer more lasting relief. (Everyone should adopt their own child: http://www.childreninternational.org/)

The thing that always amazes me most is how the people who have the very least are the most generous. Rinki's family fed us a large and delicious meal complete with tea and dessert. We were waited on at every turn with more coconut juice, more galub jamun (little syrup soaked doughnut), more rice, more chipatis.

The whole family came out to see us. There were aunts and uncles and cousins all dressed in their best saris. What a beautiful group of women! Rinki has two older sisters, one 16 the other 17. The older sister recently got married. It is common here for poor families (especially those with no sons) to marry off their daughters at a young age. The marriage is arranged between the fathers of the two families. Rinki's father was a tall and seemingly kind man. He greeted us at the car and accompanied us to his house. He talked with the project director and explained his situation when she boldly requested that he not marry-off his second daughter until she had finished school. Rinki's older sister didn’t meet her husband until their wedding. I looked at the few wedding pictures they had taken and smiled and commented on the elaborate outfits and the delicate paint that adorned her hands and forehead. She really did look beautiful, despite the reluctant expression. Rinki's mother is the one who stands out most vividly in my mind. She was tall, had a sincere smile and the most memorable eyes. All of her daughters had inherited those eyes. Large and dark they were so expressive.

Our visit ended too soon. I wanted to take the time to get to know them. I wished so much that I could speak Bengali. I would have loved to ask the daughter about her wedding, if she wanted to get married, if he was a nice husband. I would have liked to ask the mother if she was happy, if she had dreams for her daughters. I would have loved to sit and talk to Rinki for a while. Take time to get past the shyness that is inevitable in a first meeting. I would have liked to get to know her personality, what she liked, what she hoped for. Next time. I do have the satisfaction of knowing that this relationship will continue, if only in letters. For now, I have a wonderful memory of her family and lots of photos!

An American in Lucknow

Catchy isn't it. Once again here is the slightly less insightful, more scattered and a tad more dull version of our travels through the eyes of the other half. Shall we begin a story? Yesterday I received my first eyeball massage. Where you ask? What you ask? Let me explain...no, there is too much...let me sum up. Due to the fact that there is intense battles for the computer's here during the day, Marci and I have taken to working at night and doing other things during the day. Yesterday it was time for me to (ad-)venture out for my first, and long overdue, haircut in India. Marci has tried to suggest just shaving my head (not bald) but I just couldn't do it and asked for "shorter but the same" do from my barber who was fasting what looked like a tuxedo vest around him over his t-shirt. The only other customer in this room behind the pool table and TV lounge of a house/business/both? was a mid-20's Indian man who was smoking a cigarette and talking on a cel phone WHILE getting his haircut. Still unfazed, I proceed to sit quietly and everything actually goes like a normal haircut visit, except for a power outage in the middle of it (note: In India, no matter how big the city, there are power outages 2-5 times a day all at random times). Finally, I'm done and I am asked if I want "hair color" or "Facial". Seeing as the only hair color I see on Indian men is a weird orange-red dye, and I could care less about facials, I humbly reply "only haircut" which he repeats"Only haircut". Now things get weird (for me). He sprays my hair with water, and strat massaging my head/scratching it and then start clapping on it. Does anyone remember that whole "I am cracking an egg on your head" thing where you tap your fist on someones head and then run your hands down like the "egg is running"? Yup, that was next on the docket. Then he proceeds to massage my forehead and then eyebrows. Yes, my eyebrows. Take your thumb and forefinger and place them on top and below your eyebrow and rub back and forth to see that there is no pleasure in this technique whatsoever. Next, you guessed it, we move to the eyeballs (my lids closed of course). Now take your forefingerand middle finge, tightly together, and place them horizontaly over your eyes and "massage" with your fingertips. That's the good stuff, huh? So now I am thinking "Please don't tell me this costs extra" and I try to say "thank you" and get up, but am politely nudged back down as he tilts back the headrest and motions for me to lie back while he grabs an oversized tub on "facial moisturizer." Ok, I admit it. At this point I am in full on " what the h (mormon for hell) is going on here!" mode and am only kept in check by the guy's assistant/younger brother?who has been standing behind me the whole time looking bored and staring off into space mostly. I figure since he isn't showing any signs at all that this is weird then it must be "standard procedure" especially becuase most Indians stare at us (or even follow us ) for as long as we are in sight. Thus I allow the cream to be applied and it turns out to be the final part of the "haircut." I thank him and walk to the front wondering if he is going to tell them I bought the "facial package". Alas, all my fears were unfounded as they charged me the quoted 40 rupees (90 cents). He is still standing right next to me so I tip him 25% cause it is only 20 cents or so and make a beeline for my wife so that I can share this experience with someone before I die laughing.

Ok, so I gave you the long version, but I think the details were necessary. Otherwise things are going along quite smoothly here. The longer we are here the more it is apparent that stares mean curiousity and not ill-will, crowds become manageable instead of smothering and the culture is historic and unique instead of outdated or odd. I believe we are actually getting a better insight into the real India by living with Indians and staying in mostly one area than trying to see the whole country 2 days at a time. However, I am thoroughly excited for this weekend. In fact, we will be doing the 1 thing each of us most wanted to do in all of India in the SAME weekend! Marci will get to meet her "sponsored" daughter as we will travel to her vilage on friday from Kolkata. Then we go for a 1 night 2 day safari extravaganza into the Sunderbans where the world's largest population on tigers lives!!!!!!!!!! (Don't tell Marci that it is also the world's largest population of Man-eaters, too) Don't worry though, our guide supposedly survived an attack when he was a poacher and they only eat people who go deep in the mangroves to get wood or honey. We will be touring on a boat and will be fine!

Until then, this is Mr. Adventure signing off. Good night and good luck.

Saras Crane Conference

We were invited to join Dr. Boonj for a conference on the Saras Crane at the Lucknow Zoo. We gratefully accepted and then got online to figure out what a Saras crane was. We discovered that is the "worlds largest, flying bird." Interesting, I thought. We arrived a little late. There was alredy a speaker talking as we walked down the center of the room looking for enough seats to accomodate us. Everyone looked at us as we passed. I tried to sink into my bright blue skirt and my burple blouse, feeling bad about causing a disturbance. We took our seats and focused our attention on the speaker, who was speaking in Hindi, so we couldnt really understand him. There were photographers there taking pictures of the speakers from every angle. Once they finished with the speakers they turned their lenses on the crowed and zoomed in on Ryan and I, no doubt looking for proof of an "international attendence" that is so persuave when you've got a cause. I dont know why but I always want to laugh out loud when I get that disproportional amount of attention. It doesnt matter if I'm on the street or in a meeting, I think it is so funny when people want to look at me. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing when one photographer zoomed in on me! I realize in most cases that people are just curious about me (us) because we look different, in the same way that I am curious about them, but it is still disarming to have people stop and stare at you so intently.

The stage was decorated with flowers (carnations) strung together and hung in the same manner we decorate christmas trees. We sat through the mostly Hindi language speakers. It was interesting to watch the procession. Although the bulk of the talking was in Hindi, ocassionally people would throw in an english word and my mind would click on, then the run of hindi would begin again and my thoughts would wander. (I wonder why only men are speaking, where are all the women?) A couple of speakers gave their entire speaches in English, including the technical speach, which I was grateful for, but I noticed that speakers who used English didn't keep the attention of the crowd as well. The difference between an assembly like this in the US and in India is that in the US you sit there silently bored if you're not interested in/following the speaker. In India you strike up a conversation with your neighbor or talk on your cell phone. I couldn't believe it. At one point the didector of CEE got up to say a few words and he spoke in English. He was talking about the importance of focusing on the birds habitat and the economy that depends on those systems, not on the bird itself, because that is how you motivate people. He was the first person to get up (that I understood) who was actually looking at this birds plight from a realistic perspective and everyone was talking!

We took a much needed tea & cookie break and a man next to me asked me where I was from. I said, "America" (because I've learned that that is understood here, not US or the USA. I should mention that if I said I was from "America" in Central America, they would say, "Me too!"- Meaning that they were from the American continent. You have to say "The United States" or "The States" there.) Anyway, once he knew where I was from he started to tell me his political opinions about world affairs. This is not unusual here, politics are a hot topic and people are not shy about voicing their opions. I dont mind, I usually agree with them, and even if I dont its interesting to see how people feel. Everyone knows I dont like most of what Bush has done, so its not hard for me to chime in on the negative ways that our current administration is affecting the world. I just nod in agreement as they tell me why it was a bad idea to invade Iraq or why we didnt focus on finding Osama in Afganistan instead. I think they are right. I agree that our "foreign relations" have isolated us from the international community. People no longer trust us to do the right thing.

I have noticed a big change in how people feel about America and Americans since the last time I was in this part of the world. Before people thought that Americans, although a little too loud sometimes, were generally compassionate, good-intentioned people. Now, it seems that Americans are viewed as being either greedy-bullies who are out to control the world, or that they are completely disconnected with what is going on in the world. This is not just Indians who voice this opionion, its everyone I've talked to so far; Thais, Europeans, Australians, everyone. The sad part is I cant totally disagree with then. I dont think we really do get a good idea in the US about how our actions affect people in other places. I think that if we were more conscious of what we do we would behave better. Maybe I'm wrong. either way, its going to take us a long time to build back the trust we've lost.

We enjoyed out day at the zoo, its much nicer than the one we visited in Thailand. The animials actually have nice sized pens to live in with trees and water. They fed us a delicious lunch and brought us home in an air-conditioned car! NICE!

Now I'm getting ready to talk to my Mom and Dad online. Yea!

An Indian Family Dinner

Dr. Ram Boojh, the director of CEE (Center for Environmental Education) invited us to have dinner at his home last night. It was Sunday evening and the second-to-last day of the Durga Puja Festival. He sent his son to pick us up from the CEE office (which is actually a large house) where we are staying. His son spoke perfect english. He is in his first year of university studying Engineering. He helped us arrange a rick-shaw to his home which was near town. Another friend, Jabeer, would accompany us on the ride while the son rode his motor bike back with his friend. Unfortunately when rick-shaws were invented, they did not consider the fact that more than two people may want to ride at one time. Ryan and I have taken them before own our own, and had to be careful not to fall off the tiny bench seat, so you can immagine how uncomfortable it was with three of us. Ryan sat in the middle (because I, a woman, cannot sit next to a man that is not my husband), Jabeer sat on his left, and me on his right. "Sat" is really not the right word to describe what I was doing. There was enough space for the point of my left hip to make contact with the edge of the seat. I used that contact point to balance myself while Ryan kept me from teetering over the side. The seat was fashioned with a metal edge that made perfect contact with my tail-bone on every bump (and there were pleanty)! It was not a plesant ride. Not at all. You can immagine my relief when we finally made it to his house.

After that things got much better. Dr. Ram greeted us at the door and introduced us to his wife and his second son. His son sat and talked with us for a while. He is a Chemistry major in his third year of college. Very nice young man. His daughter served us cookies and tea and some very delicious pistacio treats. She was doing her post-graduate in Journalism. I was very impressed with his family. They were all so polite and friendly. They all spoke excellent English due to the fact that they had gone to an English school since they were young. I also noticed that this kind, well-educated family, who's fater has his PhD and a prestigious position at well-respected NGO, lived in very humble circumstances. The house was quite small. The floor was cement, the furniature, well-kept and clean, was old and mismatched. When we had dinner, only Ryan and I sat at the table since there was only enough room for the two of us. The daughter took excellent care of us. She talked with us through dinner and filled our plates with more and more delicious food. We had a sauted veggies (a variety only found here), seasoned aloo (soft potatoes), a spicy curry and chipati's (flat bread). For desert we had a baked, sweetened, grain-based concoction. It was so good. She was fun to talk with. She was open and candid and we had a very interesting conversation about different cultures. She recently took her first international trip to Stockholm. She said that she couldnt believe how empty the streets were (just like we think they are overflowing with people, animals and cars). She also said she didn't like the food. She is vegetarian, like much of India, and here it is no problem. Indian food is so good and flavorfull you don't really need meat. I haven't missed it at all. But in Stockholm she said she couldn't find anything besides plain bread and salad-which she doesen't like. She even tried McDonalds hoping they would have something vegetarian (like they do here) only to be disapointed.

She also took us into town for the festival. Its celebrated over nine days and devotees fast (milk and sometimes fruit is permitted) during that time. It is a Hindu festival honoring Rama who is an incarnation of Vishnu. He gave up his birthright to the throne in order to go off and conquer the devil-god (Ravana) who had stolen his wife, Sita. This festival is a essentially a celebration of good conquering evil. Anyway the town is decorated with lights and flowers and there are people everywhere! You walk from temple to temple where artists have put together these big depictions of the story. People come to the temples to pay their respects and leave flowers. Then they gather in groups outside and socialize. On the last day there is a ceremony where the devil-god, Ravana, is first drowned in the river and they set ablaze! It was really interesting. After visiting the third temple we received the tikka, which is a red dot that goes on your forehead, it's representative of a blessing.

We had a wonderful evening with the Boojh family. I hope to be able to spend some more time with them. I love to see the real lives of people when I am traveling. In my opinion it is the most rewarding part.