India

The following entries about India have been posted backwards, so that they could be read in some sort of chronological order. Since the blog posts the latest entry first, I posted the first entry last. Chronologically my trip to India should be read from "The Path" to "Hindsight."

The Path

India, a vast country situated in South Asia is home to over 1 billion people. Its culture has reached far beyond its borders by influencing the rest of Asia with Buddhism in one way or another. For 10 days I walked upon Indian soil, and saw what very few visitors to India ever experience.


Indian street

The long 12 hour flight via Beijing, China wasn’t enough to get me to where I was going. After arriving in Delhi at around 1AM, it was time for currency and cultural conversion. Sitting on a bus with five armed guards transferring from the international terminal to domestic was my first experience outside of the Delhi International Airport gates. The amount of assault rifle security was stunning, but I guess India has conflicts both domestically and with its bordering countries such as Pakistan.

After waiting for more than 5 hours, and mistakenly and embarrassingly entering the female security checkpoint. We boarded our 2 hour Spice Jet flight to Hyderabad, the capital of Andhra Pradesh, an Indian state in south India. Here we met up with the rest of the volunteers, making us a total of eighteen and also met our Indian contact working with the Association of Relief Volunteers, Ravi Kumar. From Hyderabad it was another 8 hour bus ride to the town of Gudivada where our “hotel” was. The hotel was definitely not luxury; however it did have air conditioning which can make almost any place in India an oasis. After nearly 2 days of airplanes, airports and buses, I was happy to crash on my stained sheets.


Hotel Air Conditioner

The Village

The next morning I was awaken at about 5AM by an Islamic prayer piped through speakers by the mosque next door. Surprisingly India isn’t very Buddhist, especially in the south. Most people are Hindu and after that a small percentage practice Islam and Christianity. I decided I better get a little more sleep before I was required to wake up and head to the village at 7AM. The village, Chevuru, as about 30 minutes by bus from Gudivada.

Upon arrival we were greeted by the villagers dancing and playing drums in clothes reserved for a special occasion. We were then paraded through the street of the village and greeted by many of the children asking us our names. Since we were only the second group of volunteers, and the largest ever, to come to the village, it was a bit event.


Welcome party

After our welcome party, it was time for breakfast. Indian bananas, curry, bread and yogurt that tasted like cottage cheese. The curry in south India is like nothing I have ever tried before. Since most Indian restaurants in foreign countries serve the curries of northern India, it was definitely a new culinary experience. Not to mention, this is the food that many Indians eat every day in rural and poor India. Curry 3 times a day.


Average breakfast, lunch and dinner.

After breakfast it was time for work. We were brought down to the incomplete cement houses and told the basics of what we were to do. Basically skilled labor was left to the masons and our job was to get the materials to them. This meant forming an assembly line and passing large bowls of cement from the ground to the roof. Working in the hot Indian sun side by side with volunteers and villagers and seeing the houses take shape before my eyes was a satisfying experience. It was a welcome change since I am accustomed to sitting at my desk and not really see the fruits of my work.

A few hours later it was time for lunch. Most of us were exhausted, not because of the manual labor but because of the 40 degree (105 Fahrenheit) temperatures. Lunch consisted of breakfast. All the volunteers were surprised that they could drink cups full of Chai since it was a hot drink on a hot day. Actually due to the lack of refrigeration, we never really got a cold drink. After lunch we had a 2 – 3 hour break. This was good, since it was usually the hottest part of the day.


Hanging with the village boys.

The evening consisted of more work and playing with the children. Which was then followed by dinner, which consisted of breakfast and lunch. Most days seemed like repeats of the first.

The Villagers

The most important part of a village are the people that live there. The villagers of Gudivada are known as Dalits. In the Indian caste system, Dalits are the lowest of the low, the poorest of the poor, and dirtier than dirt. It is because of this that many Dalits turn to other religions outside of Hinduism, which embrace equality over caste. For this reason, many villagers practiced Christianity, although the Hindu gods were never far away.

I never thought that I would meet a boy named Daniel in a small village in India. Turns out Daniel and Dan were pretty popular names among Indian Christians. The nephew of Ravi was named Daniel. Since I was the first foreign Daniel that this Daniel has ever met, we instantly became friends. Not to mention it was easier to remember his name than names such as Hariprasad, which I just nicknamed Harry Potter or something else just as ridiculous. All I really knew about Daniel is he liked to count to 100 while throwing a Frisbee, and just ordered a camera from Singapore. Daniel was not a Dalit, but he lived in the village.


Daniel and Daniel

Speaking of cameras, the children loved them. Actually it was hard to pull out the camera and take pictures without being swarmed by children asking for it or saying, “Just one.” I guess in this sense, I took far fewer pictures than hoped since I just didn’t want to deal with it. In some ways I really wish I brought a bunch of disposable cameras and just let the kids take a bunch of pictures. Who knows what interesting things they would have captured. Although most of the pictures they did take when they borrowed my camera were of goats and their friends just standing without a smile.


Framing the shot

Besides the children, the adults appreciated what we were doing. There was one guy though, that seemed a bit too friendly, to the point where many of the villagers sometimes told him to stay away. He wasn’t part of the same village, and decided to show me his village. In a sort of broken English explanation I could tell he wanted me to take pictures and try to find sponsors and volunteers for his village. It was very uncomfortable, because I really did not know his situation or have the ability to really help him in the way he wanted. I guess it is a good example that you can’t help everyone in the world, but you should help those that you are able to.


Under construction

The Other Village

Our fifth day was our day off. We were allowed to sleep for another hour, and after that checked out the town of Gudivada. Even in a place with around 100,000 people, they saw very few foreigners. People would stare at me like crazy. I even had a man slowly ride his bike next to me, just staring for more than ten minutes. Thankfully, rural India doesn’t seem very hostel. A smile and a handshake later and the stares seemed much less threatening.


Eyes of Gudivada.


Stores of Gudivada.

In the afternoon we headed to another village that many volunteers have visited in the past, including our two group leaders Megan and Anna. The name of the village is very long, so it was referred to GP village. GP village was even more rural than Chevuru, but the children were much more…intense. They had no inhibitions and knew what volunteers wanted to see. Even though I would say even fewer knew English than the children from Chevuru, friendship seemed like something made in an instant. The next thing I knew, kids were telling me jokes in the local language, Telugu, and I was just laughing knowing no idea what was being said.


Waiting for auto-rickshaws outside of GP village.


Barren Beauty


The faces of GP village.

Unfortunately that evening my roommate, Joe, got sick and I was soon to follow.

Delhi Belly in Andhra Pradesh

3AM. Wake up. Throw up. Sit Down. Bed. 4AM. Wake up. Throw up. Sit Down. Bed.

These are the events that lead me to 7AM. I thought I was going to be lucky. But half way through my stay in India, I became sick. By this time, many of the volunteers already got the notorious Indian gift that just keeps taking (rather than giving) from both ends. After taking two Pepto Bismol tablets offered by another volunteer, at least I wasn’t throwing up. One day of sleep and diarrhea. Without which, any Indian itinerary wouldn’t be complete.

The next day I was given some Indian medicine, which I have no idea what it was but definitely stopped everything. Since I was feeling better, but stuck in my hotel room, I had the opportunity to see hours of Indian television.

Unfortunately I think something also came back to Japan with me, or the Indian medicine wore off. This means I may have to force myself to see a doctor.

Farewell

Fortunately I was well enough to make the final day at the village. The morning consisted of finishing one more roof. The afternoon was our farewell party. We were given some traditional Indian clothes which felt like wearing plastic bags since they were made out of polyester. This was a far from great combination with Indian heat. The volunteers also received henna tattoos. This was my first time getting henna, so I thought it was pretty cool.


Polyester garb


Henna Hand

The ceremony consisted of many people giving speeches. Habitat for humanity people, village people, other people, and of course some volunteers. Overall I was more concentrated on the hundreds of mosquitoes buzzing around while I wore no bug repellent. At this time I was wishing I was on malaria meds. I wish I could have said some words. But honestly, I couldn’t think of anything. My real feelings were not very strong, but I knew if I spoke I would have to say something profound. Afterward, on the bus back to the hotel I thought of something that I could have said, although exaggerated in feeling but still true to a degree. This is what I thought:

"I would like to say something profound for the profound impact this experience has made on me, as I am sure others would agree. Unfortunately I can't think of the words. We came here to build houses and I feel everyone helped build a home for us here. By that I mean, we were welcomed warmly like family. There is a saying that says, "Home is where the heart is." I think for all of us, a little bit of our hearts will always be in Chevuru. Thank you."


Dancing the final day.

That night we packed up and rode the long bus ride back to Hyderabad through the night to catch our 10AM flight back to Delhi. I couldn’t sleep.

Angra

Arriving in Delhi, my ears would not pop. I had a stuffy nose that I think ended up stuffing my right ear. The unequal levels of hearing were annoying.

We met our bus driver who would take us on a 5 hour bus ride to Angra. At this point, I was really tired of buses. This bus was air conditioned, so it wasn’t too bad. We then arrived in the city of Angra. The purpose of this visit was to see the Taj Mahal. All the volunteers decided that if we went all the way to India, we might as well see one of its most well known landmarks.

The hotel was much better than what we were use to. Also eating northern Indian and Mughal food was a nice change, although most of the volunteers opted out for comfort food such as spaghetti. I also did eat some chicken at a restaurant, which was the first meat I ate in India. India is mostly a vegetarian society, since Hindus don’t eat meat and also for hygienic safety it is best to avoid it. But I really wanted to eat Tandoori Chicken at least once while I was in India.

The Taj Mahal was spectacular, the story even more so. And since we arrived very early, the crowds were at a minimum. The surprising thing is how majestic the grounds and the Taj Mahal looked, compared to the rest of India. India seemed to mostly resemble something post-apocalyptic with crumbling brick buildings, dirt and disorder everywhere. But when you walked into the tourist areas, such as the Taj Mahal or Angra Fort it was something completely different, although still very Indian.

Early morning at the Taj Mahal


Volunteers

Even when brought to shopping areas with our guide, they weren’t street markets, but stores that were certified by some sort of Indian Tourist Association. Granted everything seemed very expensive (for Indian standards), since it would only be tourists making purchases there. I bought a small Ganesha statue and a couple other things so I could give them to some people in my town and send some out. Unfortunately, I couldn’t purchase a lot though, and it was hard to find anything truly unique. I also bought some Dry Petha to bring back to the other teachers. I honestly don’t think it was very delicious; however it will probably be a memorable gift just for its strange and overly sweet flavor.

After one full day in Angra, it was time to head back to Delhi to catch our flight. Another long flight home and my ears still would not pop. A week later and they seem a bit better, but still not 100%.

Hindsight

Unlike the sight of a Hindu god, I only have hindsight. Looking back I appreciate this experience, although it was not as moving or impactful as when I went to Thailand. India is a very different country. From the sideways head bobble for yes almost undesirable from no, to the slums, the Taj, beefless McDonalds, India’s crazy head on traffic, the best and worst smells in the world, it is definitely a country of high contrasts. Where the richest and the poorest live together as countrymen but are worlds apart.

I know we helped the people in Chevuru. We gave them shelter. Raised their status, and hopefully filled their hearts. I can’t help but think though, that what we did wasn’t permanent. Unlike the time I was in Thailand, where I felt that the volunteers there actually changed the minds and hearts of the children and even more so changed ours, the effect wasn’t so apparent in India.

I have gained a greater appreciation for where I live and my situations in life, but have also learned comparing situations is like spinning wheels. I was not born in India or as a wealthy prince from Dubai. Comparing myself to these things so distant really is pointless. I can never understand these situations fully, so should never feel privileged or disadvantaged in my own life. These are just the cards we are dealt, even before birth. We are sometimes given a king of diamonds, the queen of hearts, the ace of spades, or the joker. With some gambling in life this can possibly change, be a king or a fool.

I don’t know if I ever want to go back to India. This may be because I actually wasn’t sure if I ever really wanted to go. One day though, I do want to head to northern India. Nepal still lingers in my mind.