After seeing Darjeeling Limited, how could I come to India and not take the train? Wednesday evening, after our drive from Agra, Jenn and I boarded the Swatantrta
Southern Express to Varanasi just after 8:30pm. We didn't really know what to expect of the night train and, additionally, since we made reservations within 48 hours of our train's departure, we were not able to book first class tickets as was suggested by some of our Indian friends. So, third tier it was. Prior to this trip I had very little knowledge of the train system; here in India, there are 8 different classes, ranging from air conditioned first class, which provides ample privacy, to unreserved seating, which basically consists of benches, the likes of which you can see on old city buses.
We were pleasantly surprised to find our car, though it had one long corridor which everyone uses for passage to the restroom, we, along with four others, had a little cubby to ourselves, with “beds” which folded down off the walls. We were provided sheets and pillows and as soon as I put my earplugs in, I was out. I slept through the night and awoke with only hour or so to kill before our train pulled into Varnasi.
We were met at the station by employees of our hotel, the Ganga Fuji home, a 5-story guest house tucked within the winding alleyways of the Old City. They put us in a pedicab, our bags at our feet, and we began, what felt like, a very, very long journey to the hotel. The sweat on our cyclists back soaked his shirt and it made me wish we took an auto rickshaw. We knew he wasn't happy and I really wanted to give him a big tip, and would have, had it not been for the hotel employees, with whom our driver began yelling when we arrived at our destination. Probably about the fat Americans and their luggage that dragged through potholes and mud in 90 degree heat – which must have been quite a sight for the locals. Not that I could tell, because they all stare at us anyway. For as many tourists that come through India, they still like to stare at and heckle...
Alas, we finally made it to the hotel and enjoyed a couple hours of quite time. We decided before even arriving in Varanasi that this would be the true vacation portion of our trip – we will sleep in, go to yoga classes, do some reading and just relax. There is not a whole lot going on in Varanasi – there are the ghats, the stairs leading down to the Ganges on which people bathe and wash clothes (and on certain ghats, perform cremation ceremonies, though we have not seen those yet), but the most interesting part about those are the people you find on them. This city is great for people-watching, but unfortunately for tourists, at least in my experience today, you get followed around by shop owners, so it doesn't seem like there is a ton of opportunity for quiet reflection. We will see how things go tomorrow when I make my way to the other ghats.
Right around sundown, we headed to the river to catch the aarti ceremony – a ritual performed by 7 Brahman, Hindu priests, during which they offer prayers to the river goddesses. You have the opportunity to buy 'lotus candles', little homemade candles in mini-muffin tins, placed in small recycled paper bowls and pink flowers, over which you make a wish, light and place in the river. It was so lovely to see all the tiny flames float out into the swirling river – definitely not something that can be captured by a camera, despite my effort. We watched the ceremony from wooden rowboats tethered to one another along the river bank. It was beautiful – they sang, played instruments, burned incense, sprinkled flower petals and lit large silver lamps.
Afterward, Jenn and I bought coconuts from the street and drank the water straight out of them. Not quite the same as my Zico from Trader Joe's but it was damn good! We got a little lost on the way back to the hotel on the dark, windy alleys, but found ourselves amidst a market catering to Indians, rather than tourists – shops with silk saris and sparkley bangles piled to the ceiling! We will definitely try to find that area again over the next couple days.
Off to bed – getting up before dawn to catch a riverboat ride and watch the sun rise over the Ganges!
Friday, August 19, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Taj Mahal!
From just inside the main gate
We rolled into Agra yesterday afternoon. At the time, we thought our driver was just abiding by the local pollution restrictions - a number of years ago, restrictions on types of vehicles and general traffic were placed around Agra near the Taj because the pollution was causing discoloration to the marble, so generally speaking, the roads are closed to large cars. He dropped us at a checkpoint outside of the main part of the city around the Taj, and had us catch pedicabs in the pouring rain. We found out later that, had he paid the cop 50 rupees (about a dollar and change), he could have driven us to our hostel. So we, and our luggage, arrived soaking wet. Awesome. I began praying to the powers that be to allow us a clear day so we could really enjoy the Taj Mahal. Sure enough, I got my wish and we awoke at 5:30 this morning to a mostly clear sky.
The walk to the main gate from our hostel was under 10 minutes and the ticket ine was relatively short. I felt the same as I did as a child on the way to Disney World – this is one of those end-all, be-all moments in life that you always look forward to and never forget. Not to sound totally cliche, but I will tell you: the Taj Mahal is every bit as breathtaking as people say, and pictures don't do it justice. You could see it from the roof of our hostel, and it looks like a painting - so real it looks fake. Up close, it is even more incredible. The structure is not completely white as I had thought - the four symmetrical sides are inlaid with semi-precious stone in black, reds, yellows and blues.
The inlay work on the front of the Taj
Quick history: Shah Jahan, a Mughal emperor, began construction on the Taj Mahal in 1632, as a mausoleum for his third wife after she died giving birth to their 14th child (birth spacing, anyone?). Rumor has it that he was planning to build an identical structure in black marble on the opposite side of the river on which the Taj sits, but 1. black marble comes from Europe and at the time, it was too costly to import it, unlike white and other marbles which come from India, and 2. before the Taj was completed, Shah Jahan's son imprisoned him to take over the throne, locking him up in a prison cell about 2 km up the river. He was able to see the Taj from his cell, but was never allowed to see the completed inside. He is now buried with his beloved below the main floor of the Taj.
We had a free tour guide, provided by the India Archaeological Survey, and got professional photos done, as suggested by some friends. Under normal circumstances, there is no way I would ever hire someone to take my picture at a monument, but even at 6am, the crowds were growing and we knew that he would be able to move people out of the way, providing flawless photos; just me and the Taj!
The tour was good; not much that wasn't printed in Lonely Planet, but he was super patient with our incessant picture-taking, and even offered to take photos of us with our cameras. The really cool part of the tour was inside – he took a flashlight to show us how the marble and the inlaid stones glow. Real white marble is semi-translucent and you can see the light penetrate the stone about an inch deep (this is also a good test to tell if something is actually marble. Though this white marble comes from India, many local vendors try to pass off mini-Taj statues and other memorabilia made of soapstone as marble, and if you're not an expert, how could you tell?). Apparently, it is best to see the Taj under full moon light, which makes the whole main dome glow. As we learned when we got their, along with their no-shoes rule, no photography is allowed inside, so you will have to go see it for yourself!
After the tour, we split up for some quiet time and more picture-taking from different angles. The whole complex is completely walled-in and the Taj, as well as the symmetrical buildings which flank it – one a mosque and one a guest house, are surrounded by a park of indigenous trees, with stone benches underneath, providing ample opportunity to just stop and reflect. It really was a beautiful morning.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Thoughts on India thus far.
India has a way of taking you by surprise – you will expect one thing and it will throw you curve balls you never thought possible – amongst the chaos, the aggressive shop owner on the street will turn around two minutes later, offer you chai and tell you about his family; upon retreating to a quiet corner of a crowded monument when you just can't take it anymore, you will make an unexpected new friend and travel companion. The traffic, the noise, the masses upon masses of people have made me realize how sometimes, I take my lifestyle for granted. I am so used to walking where I need to go, taking life at my own pace, having personal time during which I can truly feel alone. Not here – regardless of how it looks on the surface, the undertow is strong and unrelenting. But it goes two ways. Just the same as it pulls you under, even if your first inclination is to resist, you can't help but feel the exhilaration of what will come next.
Despite having two weeks to go after my course finished, by the end, I just wanted to go home. I wanted to be done with being here. I can't blame it all on India; I have been running on empty since Spring finals and feel as though I have not had a moment to gather my thoughts. I figured summer would come, I only had three classes and my practicum; how hard could that be? HA! The classes and practicum took more out of me emotionally than academically or professionally, we had to move into a temporary living situation and I still had to prepare for this trip. Needless to say, this was a difficult summer and being in India is not exactly a vacation. But it is something new, and something very special.
Despite having two weeks to go after my course finished, by the end, I just wanted to go home. I wanted to be done with being here. I can't blame it all on India; I have been running on empty since Spring finals and feel as though I have not had a moment to gather my thoughts. I figured summer would come, I only had three classes and my practicum; how hard could that be? HA! The classes and practicum took more out of me emotionally than academically or professionally, we had to move into a temporary living situation and I still had to prepare for this trip. Needless to say, this was a difficult summer and being in India is not exactly a vacation. But it is something new, and something very special.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Independence at last!
Happy Independence Day, India!! Today is day 3 in Jaipur, capital of the state of Rajastan, home of the Maharajahs of ancient India. I was in Delhi for the last four days of the Social Entrepreneurship course, for which I will back-post shortly, but wanted to play a little game of catch-up.
The program ended with more of a bang for me, personally, that I would have preferred... But as I have learned in the last three weeks, travel causes people to run the gamut of emotions, and in the end, it is probably best to just take your feelings in stride and not project them onto other people. I made the mistake of letting my emotions get the best of me in the wrong time and place, and am trying my best everyday not to let it affect the rest of my trip, when really, it made me want to say F- it all, and go home. Whether or not I will go home early is yet to be determined, and try to ask myself everyday, why am I here if not to learn?
I did learn that I never, ever, ever in a million years want to travel in a big group. Ever again. One, two, even three other people can be great traveling company, but a group of 20+, no thanks. It only breeds pettiness and immaturity, the likes of which I have not seen since high school and, frankly, I would have been happy to leave it there. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say, I was happy to split from everyone on Friday, and start my independent travel.
Since then, after the most stressful road trip of my life (Indian traffic and driving is terrifying. NEVER in my life have I been so scared to ride in a motor vehicle! they swerve and honk and off-road - it's like real-life Mario Kart!), we have been roaming the busier-than-anticipated streets and sites of Jaipur. On day one, we saw the Amber Palace and fort, a lovely hilltop fortress built in the late 1500s, and had amazing thali (sort of the Rajastaini equivalent of tapas – little tastes of a bunch of dishes, but they give them to you all at once on a huge plate in tiny cups. Yum!). Day two began with a visit to the hill-top Monkey Temple and the Sun Temple, at which we were offered freshly opened pomegranate and had beautiful henna done on my hands, followed by a visit to some of the downtown Jaipur sites including Hawal Mahal, the “Wind Temple”, a 5-story temple with 1000 stained-glass windows, and Jantar Mantar, a walled park containing ancient astrological and astronomy tools, which are huge concrete structures, the size of houses – we are talking original contraptions here. The English translation of the explanation was a little rough, but for those who are into astronomy and astrology, particularly those into old school astronomy/astrology, I am sure it made a lot more sense. These devices are used to tell planetary, solar and lunar alignment and look more like something out of M.C. Escher or Alice in Wonderland than scientific tools.
Day 3 was spent shopping it up, first at FabIndia, a clothing company that works with a family cooperative and sells organic, ethically sourced hand block-printed garments. Absolutely beautiful. If we had those in the US, I would only shop there. Afterwards, we headed out to one of the street market to haggle with the not-so-nice salesmen, who always want to tell you that they will give something to you for the “best price” or “local Indian price”. Yeah.. we found out pretty quickly that they like to charge tourists, for trinkets and historical site entry alike, more than double the price they charge Indians (If you are lucky...). I am not one to complain about money, but the very obvious double standard is a little frustrating.
Along the way we made friends with Dana, an Israeli girl who is traveling alone for the year (!!!!). She was in China, Cambodia, Laos and Thailand and has been in India for almost a month. She is so lovely and made me miss Israel so much. Definitely need to get back there ASAP!
We are off to Agra to see the Taj Mahal tomorrow, so (hopefully!) more updates from there!
The program ended with more of a bang for me, personally, that I would have preferred... But as I have learned in the last three weeks, travel causes people to run the gamut of emotions, and in the end, it is probably best to just take your feelings in stride and not project them onto other people. I made the mistake of letting my emotions get the best of me in the wrong time and place, and am trying my best everyday not to let it affect the rest of my trip, when really, it made me want to say F- it all, and go home. Whether or not I will go home early is yet to be determined, and try to ask myself everyday, why am I here if not to learn?
I did learn that I never, ever, ever in a million years want to travel in a big group. Ever again. One, two, even three other people can be great traveling company, but a group of 20+, no thanks. It only breeds pettiness and immaturity, the likes of which I have not seen since high school and, frankly, I would have been happy to leave it there. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say, I was happy to split from everyone on Friday, and start my independent travel.
Since then, after the most stressful road trip of my life (Indian traffic and driving is terrifying. NEVER in my life have I been so scared to ride in a motor vehicle! they swerve and honk and off-road - it's like real-life Mario Kart!), we have been roaming the busier-than-anticipated streets and sites of Jaipur. On day one, we saw the Amber Palace and fort, a lovely hilltop fortress built in the late 1500s, and had amazing thali (sort of the Rajastaini equivalent of tapas – little tastes of a bunch of dishes, but they give them to you all at once on a huge plate in tiny cups. Yum!). Day two began with a visit to the hill-top Monkey Temple and the Sun Temple, at which we were offered freshly opened pomegranate and had beautiful henna done on my hands, followed by a visit to some of the downtown Jaipur sites including Hawal Mahal, the “Wind Temple”, a 5-story temple with 1000 stained-glass windows, and Jantar Mantar, a walled park containing ancient astrological and astronomy tools, which are huge concrete structures, the size of houses – we are talking original contraptions here. The English translation of the explanation was a little rough, but for those who are into astronomy and astrology, particularly those into old school astronomy/astrology, I am sure it made a lot more sense. These devices are used to tell planetary, solar and lunar alignment and look more like something out of M.C. Escher or Alice in Wonderland than scientific tools.
Day 3 was spent shopping it up, first at FabIndia, a clothing company that works with a family cooperative and sells organic, ethically sourced hand block-printed garments. Absolutely beautiful. If we had those in the US, I would only shop there. Afterwards, we headed out to one of the street market to haggle with the not-so-nice salesmen, who always want to tell you that they will give something to you for the “best price” or “local Indian price”. Yeah.. we found out pretty quickly that they like to charge tourists, for trinkets and historical site entry alike, more than double the price they charge Indians (If you are lucky...). I am not one to complain about money, but the very obvious double standard is a little frustrating.
Along the way we made friends with Dana, an Israeli girl who is traveling alone for the year (!!!!). She was in China, Cambodia, Laos and Thailand and has been in India for almost a month. She is so lovely and made me miss Israel so much. Definitely need to get back there ASAP!
We are off to Agra to see the Taj Mahal tomorrow, so (hopefully!) more updates from there!
Monday, August 8, 2011
Investing in India
Copied from my class blog:
After a heavy week of meeting with NGOs and the communities in which they work, today was a welcome change of pace. Ascending to the third floor of a not-particularly inviting building on a busy street, we arrived at Unlimited India's quiet, serenely lit office in nearby Bandra, but not before a short hold-up on the stairs because, due to office policy, everyone must remove their shoes before entering. The UnLtd India staff works barefoot, pouring over CNN.com or what must have been project proposals on their individual laptops, drinking tea and chatting to one another. We were offered coffee and tea and led up the red, cast iron spiral staircase to an open loft space, in which half of us sat on pillows on the floor.
Pooja Warier, co-founder and director of UnLtd, provided a short intro to the organization – UnLtd India is an NGO incubator and, by focusing on start-ups, UnLtd assists new NGOs financially as well as developmentally. After a rigorous application process, selected organizations are provided short-term (0-4 years) seed funding, opportunities for idea development, networking, project implementation, scaling of their project (moving it beyond a single community, if they do so choose), general advisory support and assistance through governmental bureaucratic processes (similar to gaining 501c3 status in the US). Fact: 3.1 million NGOs currently exist in India, however most newly established NGOs fail within their first year. UnLtd seeks to support people with a really good idea, and help to ensure they do not fall victim to the same fate.
This support comes in a variety of ways, whether it be in one-on-one meetings between a grantee and an UnLtd associate, who provide grantees a “magic mirror” to help them see possible futures depending on the steps they take in the development process, or simply spending time at the HUB, the space in which we had our meeting, which is meant to be an open, readily available space for grantees or, as Pooja said, “anyone with an idea,” to meet, or at more formally structured workshops, networking events or presentations.
Pooja and her team, Karen and Rosham, took us through the processes of how individuals go about applying to UnLtd funding and support, and the timeline thereafter. They gave wonderful examples of projects they fund, from an after school soccer program to decrease drop-out rates, to training of farmers in bee keeping and provision of bee boxes, to increase their farm's income, UnLtd truly has no limits on the kind of ideas they support and encourage.
We stayed put of the next two hours, and met with Acumen Fund, which supports enterprise through beginning stages, particularly those working on socially beneficial projects across India. Their philosophy and model is not unlike UnLtd India; investing in local NGOs and projects, promoting the consistent creation jobs and high-quality opportunities for social betterment. The projects they support are absolutely incredible, ranging in target populations and focus, from the low-cost women's health hospitals to clean water accessibility to local ambulance services. Like UnLtd, a major focus for the initiatives they support is scalability – expanding beyond a single community to the general population which could be positively impacted by such a project.
It was so interesting (and exceedingly anticlimactic) to hear that Acumen, an international NGO, with millions of dollars and a host of rockstar projects in the works, has very little in the way of impact evaluations to measure the efficacy of their investments. They admitted it as a major challenge, which is pretty disconcerting, as impact evaluation is such a major part of public health and development programming. This reminded me of a conversation we had as a group in Mumbai – Dr. Parrish brought up a conversation during which social entrepreneurship was questioned as the future of NGOs, or if it was just a passing fad. Of course, sustainability of projects and initiatives is key to their survival, and it makes sense that those which can self-sustain have the best chance of not only surviving, but making the most impact. However, if it can't be proved whether or not they are making an impact, how can a potential investor tell whether or not an investment in a certain project will be worth it? Am I, as a public health student, missing something when I ask whether or not it is difficult to gather at least benchmark data – such as the number of participants in a program or the number of materials distributed at the same point each year – to evaluate a project? Are they still doing good work, even if they don't have numbers to back up their work? All of these questions are essential to deciding whether social entrepreneurship is the way of the future, or will soon be a thing of the past.... and I am very interested in the impact all of the organizations and projects we have seen will make within their communities in the future.
After a heavy week of meeting with NGOs and the communities in which they work, today was a welcome change of pace. Ascending to the third floor of a not-particularly inviting building on a busy street, we arrived at Unlimited India's quiet, serenely lit office in nearby Bandra, but not before a short hold-up on the stairs because, due to office policy, everyone must remove their shoes before entering. The UnLtd India staff works barefoot, pouring over CNN.com or what must have been project proposals on their individual laptops, drinking tea and chatting to one another. We were offered coffee and tea and led up the red, cast iron spiral staircase to an open loft space, in which half of us sat on pillows on the floor.
Pooja Warier, co-founder and director of UnLtd, provided a short intro to the organization – UnLtd India is an NGO incubator and, by focusing on start-ups, UnLtd assists new NGOs financially as well as developmentally. After a rigorous application process, selected organizations are provided short-term (0-4 years) seed funding, opportunities for idea development, networking, project implementation, scaling of their project (moving it beyond a single community, if they do so choose), general advisory support and assistance through governmental bureaucratic processes (similar to gaining 501c3 status in the US). Fact: 3.1 million NGOs currently exist in India, however most newly established NGOs fail within their first year. UnLtd seeks to support people with a really good idea, and help to ensure they do not fall victim to the same fate.
This support comes in a variety of ways, whether it be in one-on-one meetings between a grantee and an UnLtd associate, who provide grantees a “magic mirror” to help them see possible futures depending on the steps they take in the development process, or simply spending time at the HUB, the space in which we had our meeting, which is meant to be an open, readily available space for grantees or, as Pooja said, “anyone with an idea,” to meet, or at more formally structured workshops, networking events or presentations.
Pooja and her team, Karen and Rosham, took us through the processes of how individuals go about applying to UnLtd funding and support, and the timeline thereafter. They gave wonderful examples of projects they fund, from an after school soccer program to decrease drop-out rates, to training of farmers in bee keeping and provision of bee boxes, to increase their farm's income, UnLtd truly has no limits on the kind of ideas they support and encourage.
We stayed put of the next two hours, and met with Acumen Fund, which supports enterprise through beginning stages, particularly those working on socially beneficial projects across India. Their philosophy and model is not unlike UnLtd India; investing in local NGOs and projects, promoting the consistent creation jobs and high-quality opportunities for social betterment. The projects they support are absolutely incredible, ranging in target populations and focus, from the low-cost women's health hospitals to clean water accessibility to local ambulance services. Like UnLtd, a major focus for the initiatives they support is scalability – expanding beyond a single community to the general population which could be positively impacted by such a project.
It was so interesting (and exceedingly anticlimactic) to hear that Acumen, an international NGO, with millions of dollars and a host of rockstar projects in the works, has very little in the way of impact evaluations to measure the efficacy of their investments. They admitted it as a major challenge, which is pretty disconcerting, as impact evaluation is such a major part of public health and development programming. This reminded me of a conversation we had as a group in Mumbai – Dr. Parrish brought up a conversation during which social entrepreneurship was questioned as the future of NGOs, or if it was just a passing fad. Of course, sustainability of projects and initiatives is key to their survival, and it makes sense that those which can self-sustain have the best chance of not only surviving, but making the most impact. However, if it can't be proved whether or not they are making an impact, how can a potential investor tell whether or not an investment in a certain project will be worth it? Am I, as a public health student, missing something when I ask whether or not it is difficult to gather at least benchmark data – such as the number of participants in a program or the number of materials distributed at the same point each year – to evaluate a project? Are they still doing good work, even if they don't have numbers to back up their work? All of these questions are essential to deciding whether social entrepreneurship is the way of the future, or will soon be a thing of the past.... and I am very interested in the impact all of the organizations and projects we have seen will make within their communities in the future.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Making an IMPACT
Friday, hands down, was my favorite day thus far. Our 7:30 departure time and 2+ hour bus ride was totally worth the first breath of fresh air I inhaled when we arrived at our first stop in the Thane district, a rural area north of Mumbai. Neelam, a mid-60's tiny spitfire of a woman from IMPACT India, lead our group and gave us a lovely overview of the organization's mission and activities – “Actions today to prevent disability tomorrow”, for IMPACT India means working with over 2 million people living in tribal populations, includes the Lifeline Express, the world's first train hospital. The train, painted in bright colors with flowers and rainbows, moves throughout the country year round providing services such as cataract and cleft palate surgery, and other basic medical procedures to rural populations who call it the Magic Train.
In addition to the Lifeline Express, IMPACT, in conjunction with the government, provides services within hostel schools, not unlike boarding schools, rural health clinics, and also had a mobile unit for eye exams and prescribing glasses.
On the way to Thane, Neelam described how IMPACT and their services got off the ground, and to the point at which they function today. It sounded like a story out of a public health fairytale. She made it sound so seamless – a disparity was recognized – the tribal communities and rural areas lacked access to basic health services, and so she and her team rallied the necessary troops and brought them what they needed. Voilá! Magic!
In reality, of course, I am sure it was not as easy as her rhetoric described. Blood, sweat and tears went into these initiatives, and it really shows. It is most apparent in the services provided exclusively for women. Physical health as well as social factors emphasize the importance of enrolling these rural children in hostel schools: they are provided high quality diets to curb anemia, and by providing the girls with an education and a place to learn and grow, child marriage is also curbed. By providing the mothers in the community with birthing services and breastfeeding support in the maternal and child health clinic, IMPACT is working to decrease maternal and infant mortality rates, as well as ensure a healthy start to the babies' lives. They made it look so easy, and I hope someday to be a part of an organization which makes such a significant IMPACT.
In addition to the Lifeline Express, IMPACT, in conjunction with the government, provides services within hostel schools, not unlike boarding schools, rural health clinics, and also had a mobile unit for eye exams and prescribing glasses.
On the way to Thane, Neelam described how IMPACT and their services got off the ground, and to the point at which they function today. It sounded like a story out of a public health fairytale. She made it sound so seamless – a disparity was recognized – the tribal communities and rural areas lacked access to basic health services, and so she and her team rallied the necessary troops and brought them what they needed. Voilá! Magic!
In reality, of course, I am sure it was not as easy as her rhetoric described. Blood, sweat and tears went into these initiatives, and it really shows. It is most apparent in the services provided exclusively for women. Physical health as well as social factors emphasize the importance of enrolling these rural children in hostel schools: they are provided high quality diets to curb anemia, and by providing the girls with an education and a place to learn and grow, child marriage is also curbed. By providing the mothers in the community with birthing services and breastfeeding support in the maternal and child health clinic, IMPACT is working to decrease maternal and infant mortality rates, as well as ensure a healthy start to the babies' lives. They made it look so easy, and I hope someday to be a part of an organization which makes such a significant IMPACT.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Day 3 – The other side of the tracks
With Vinod Shetty from ACORN India as our guide, we made our way through the industrial side of Dharavi, one of the largest slums in Mumbai, made famous by the film, Slumdog Millionaire. A large part of the Dharavi community's livelihood is what is called ragpicking, or scouring the piles of trash dumped near by for recyclables which can be cleaned, sorted and resold to companies seeking cheap materials. There is no real sense of occupational health awareness, never mind regulation – most workers were barefoot, and not one worker was wearing gloves or eye protection, even when operating the heavy machinery used to chop cardboard or plastics into tiny pieces. It was very muddy; we had to hop between stray bricks sticking out of the mud to traverse the paths between the buildings, some of which were 4 stories tall, many comprised of metal siding.
When I initially heard about Dharavi, after seeing Slumdog Millionaire and a documentary in class about Shetty and ACORN India's work in Dharavi, I learned that this community is largely comprised of migrant workers or others forced out of their communities for one reason or other. I was appalled to learn, not only about the water supply and sanitation issues, but that many do not even hold citizenship, do not have access to basic health services or educational opportunities for their children. “Where is the government?,” I demanded to know. It reminded me of pre- into industrial New York and Boston, and made me think of my own family, immigrants looking for work and opportunities. They would have been on the streets or forced to create makeshift shelters too, had it not been for the government housing projects to which they had been assigned. I was sympathetic, and am still – but its not so simple in Dharavi.
There is currently a ton of contention between the people of Dharavi and the government: the government sees this group and their community as a burden and an eyesore on prime real estate – sandwiched between two major sets of train tracks, in the middle of the city. Redevelopment projects have been suggested time and time again (Dharavi has been around for the better part of the last 70 years; its not a new phenomenon), but for one reason or other, just have not panned out. This is not just because the government or NGOs are not trying hard enough, but many in Dharavi simply don't see a need for change. They are largely self-sustaining – Dharavi is responsible for almost the entire recycling industry for the city, and business, so I have been told, is pretty good.
While speaking to the owner/manager (it was not clear, but he was definitely in charge) of a cardboard recycling operation I was informed that the operation makes about $10,000 a month – yeah, US dollars. Though many workers in this operations, and many like it, live in their workspace, they earn up to $400 a month – that's pretty good, considering there are people in this county living on less than $1 a day. Like all businesses in Dharavi, the whole operation runs under the table, is not registered by the government and thus, does not pay taxes. If the people of Dharavi were to agree to a redevelopment initiative, they would have to give up their work spaces, pay for a living space, and most likely have to legitimize (i.e. pay taxes on) their businesses. From that perspective, I can see why they prefer to keep the status quo.
Dharavi is not clean, healthy, or anywhere that people would prefer to spend their lives or raise a family, but to certain extent, I get it. I can understand why, in a community of people brought together by the commonality of the need to survive, they're doing a pretty good job at just that.
When I initially heard about Dharavi, after seeing Slumdog Millionaire and a documentary in class about Shetty and ACORN India's work in Dharavi, I learned that this community is largely comprised of migrant workers or others forced out of their communities for one reason or other. I was appalled to learn, not only about the water supply and sanitation issues, but that many do not even hold citizenship, do not have access to basic health services or educational opportunities for their children. “Where is the government?,” I demanded to know. It reminded me of pre- into industrial New York and Boston, and made me think of my own family, immigrants looking for work and opportunities. They would have been on the streets or forced to create makeshift shelters too, had it not been for the government housing projects to which they had been assigned. I was sympathetic, and am still – but its not so simple in Dharavi.
There is currently a ton of contention between the people of Dharavi and the government: the government sees this group and their community as a burden and an eyesore on prime real estate – sandwiched between two major sets of train tracks, in the middle of the city. Redevelopment projects have been suggested time and time again (Dharavi has been around for the better part of the last 70 years; its not a new phenomenon), but for one reason or other, just have not panned out. This is not just because the government or NGOs are not trying hard enough, but many in Dharavi simply don't see a need for change. They are largely self-sustaining – Dharavi is responsible for almost the entire recycling industry for the city, and business, so I have been told, is pretty good.
While speaking to the owner/manager (it was not clear, but he was definitely in charge) of a cardboard recycling operation I was informed that the operation makes about $10,000 a month – yeah, US dollars. Though many workers in this operations, and many like it, live in their workspace, they earn up to $400 a month – that's pretty good, considering there are people in this county living on less than $1 a day. Like all businesses in Dharavi, the whole operation runs under the table, is not registered by the government and thus, does not pay taxes. If the people of Dharavi were to agree to a redevelopment initiative, they would have to give up their work spaces, pay for a living space, and most likely have to legitimize (i.e. pay taxes on) their businesses. From that perspective, I can see why they prefer to keep the status quo.
Dharavi is not clean, healthy, or anywhere that people would prefer to spend their lives or raise a family, but to certain extent, I get it. I can understand why, in a community of people brought together by the commonality of the need to survive, they're doing a pretty good job at just that.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Day 2: Plans are meant to be broken
Whether you get stuck in 2 hours of unforeseen traffic, or the NGO is not prepared to put a group of 20 to work, as we experienced on the first day, or, as I have been experiencing on my own, traveling in a large group is not as easy as I thought it would be, the idea that things never work out the way you plan, in India, or at least within my experience here, this statement has never been more true.
The very last class before we came to India, we were asked to begin brainstorming to prepare an educational program to present when we met with Aastha Parivar, a local NGO which offers services predominantly to commercial sex workers. Aastha Parivar does outreach work including HIV/AIDS prevention and a social entrepreneurial arm which sells make-up, perfume and incense made by the women. We prepared a three-part program to provide the women served by Aastha Parivar with information topics we were told carry certain stigma within their community, as well as within India on the whole, and which are applicable to their lives – menstruation, menopause and breast cancer.
On Wednesday, our whole group was split between two sites affiliated with Aastha Parivar and our half of the group was dropped off at the Women's Welfare Society, a peer education outreach organization. The women with whom we were meeting turned out to be the executive board of the Women's Welfare Society, many of whom may be current or former sex workers, as well as nurses and administrative staff of the organization. Our group was prepared with the diagrams, scripted outline and materials for an interactive activity, and began as planned. The language barrier was eased by two of our group members fluent in Hindi and a staff member of the organization who all three served as translators.
We got about 5 minutes in, and couldn't help but notice the bored expressions on the women's faces. Finally one spoke up, informing us that they had already had training on menstruation.
Let me just say that this situation has the potential to be a health promotion student's worst nightmare. Although we were attempting to present this vital information in, what we thought would be, a new format for these women, they were adamant – this was old news. We had not had the opportunity to do any kind of needs assessment, and were only afforded a few short conversations with Samhita staff, and had not even met the women to whom we presented until that day. Ok, good. Now what? We didn't really have the time or resources to prepare a Plan B. After a moment of regrouping, it was suggested that we go ahead and present our information as planned, and give the women, based on trainings they have had and information thy disseminate during they peer outreach, an opportunity to share anything we might have left out, or alternative ways to talk about this information in which they feel are more effective withing the community they serve. This turned out to be a fantastic opportunity for an exchange of information and a mutually beneficial learning experience.
Breast cancer is an emerging health issue in India and at first, the women did not seem entirely convinced that they needed to know the information, but as soon as we asked if anyone had a relative or friend diagnosed with cancer, they all saw that it impacts far more people than they realized. One of the women herself had recently had a biopsy taken of a suspicious lump. After those conversations, the women opened up, asked questions and became much more receptive. They were very intrigued by the idea of self examination, and generally about preventive measures. Apparently, even though many were aware of it, there is not much in the way of literature or health education training on breast cancer. From the session, we offered to create some materials for the Women's Welfare Society – either a pamphlet or a training manual – on breast cancer which they can disseminate to their peers. They were very excited about this, and I think we all left on a little lady-power high.
It was amazing to meet these women who are working to make a difference and empowered other women so incredibly marginalized by society. I can only imagine what it must be like for them, whether or not they themselves are sex workers, knowing that the information and opportunities they provide has the potential to save, or at the very least, change the lives of other women. I was so incredibly inspired. I see myself doing very similar outreach work in the future; a plan which, hopefully works out, and can allow me to make a similar impact on others.
The very last class before we came to India, we were asked to begin brainstorming to prepare an educational program to present when we met with Aastha Parivar, a local NGO which offers services predominantly to commercial sex workers. Aastha Parivar does outreach work including HIV/AIDS prevention and a social entrepreneurial arm which sells make-up, perfume and incense made by the women. We prepared a three-part program to provide the women served by Aastha Parivar with information topics we were told carry certain stigma within their community, as well as within India on the whole, and which are applicable to their lives – menstruation, menopause and breast cancer.
On Wednesday, our whole group was split between two sites affiliated with Aastha Parivar and our half of the group was dropped off at the Women's Welfare Society, a peer education outreach organization. The women with whom we were meeting turned out to be the executive board of the Women's Welfare Society, many of whom may be current or former sex workers, as well as nurses and administrative staff of the organization. Our group was prepared with the diagrams, scripted outline and materials for an interactive activity, and began as planned. The language barrier was eased by two of our group members fluent in Hindi and a staff member of the organization who all three served as translators.
We got about 5 minutes in, and couldn't help but notice the bored expressions on the women's faces. Finally one spoke up, informing us that they had already had training on menstruation.
Let me just say that this situation has the potential to be a health promotion student's worst nightmare. Although we were attempting to present this vital information in, what we thought would be, a new format for these women, they were adamant – this was old news. We had not had the opportunity to do any kind of needs assessment, and were only afforded a few short conversations with Samhita staff, and had not even met the women to whom we presented until that day. Ok, good. Now what? We didn't really have the time or resources to prepare a Plan B. After a moment of regrouping, it was suggested that we go ahead and present our information as planned, and give the women, based on trainings they have had and information thy disseminate during they peer outreach, an opportunity to share anything we might have left out, or alternative ways to talk about this information in which they feel are more effective withing the community they serve. This turned out to be a fantastic opportunity for an exchange of information and a mutually beneficial learning experience.
Breast cancer is an emerging health issue in India and at first, the women did not seem entirely convinced that they needed to know the information, but as soon as we asked if anyone had a relative or friend diagnosed with cancer, they all saw that it impacts far more people than they realized. One of the women herself had recently had a biopsy taken of a suspicious lump. After those conversations, the women opened up, asked questions and became much more receptive. They were very intrigued by the idea of self examination, and generally about preventive measures. Apparently, even though many were aware of it, there is not much in the way of literature or health education training on breast cancer. From the session, we offered to create some materials for the Women's Welfare Society – either a pamphlet or a training manual – on breast cancer which they can disseminate to their peers. They were very excited about this, and I think we all left on a little lady-power high.
It was amazing to meet these women who are working to make a difference and empowered other women so incredibly marginalized by society. I can only imagine what it must be like for them, whether or not they themselves are sex workers, knowing that the information and opportunities they provide has the potential to save, or at the very least, change the lives of other women. I was so incredibly inspired. I see myself doing very similar outreach work in the future; a plan which, hopefully works out, and can allow me to make a similar impact on others.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
"That's just India"
As we touched down in Mumbai at 4am on Sunday morning I though, thank goodness we went to Turkey. At least we were able to adjust to a 7 hour difference and coming to India only added a 2.5 hour difference, which was all well and good, until we got into the airport.
Once I saw how the progression of the morning would go, I decided that I should probably try not to hold my expectations too high. ...Super slow – had to fill out paperwork for the immigration desk, stand in line... we had a moment of panic during which we weren't sure if our bags even made it on the plane. We checked in late for our flight from Turkey – really late – and what if... but they were, in fact, there and eventually we made it from the densely crowded terminal and baggage claim to the densely crowded Arrivals area outside. Eventually we found the group of gentlemen waiting to take us to the hotel. I climbed into the front seat of the van – my first big mistake. As Dr. Vyas, one of the professors responsible for this trip said yesterday, “Never watch the road when you're in a vehicle in India. It will just stress you out”. Truer words have never been spoken. I just wish they had come 24 hours sooner. As our van wove through the dark, pothole filled streets, past construction sites and, what looked like empty shacks, it stalled all of 5 times in what ended up being a 10 minute drive, and dodged car after motorcycle after bus. Apparently there is no concept of right-of-way or staying in you lane. From now on I will sit in the back and stare out the window. We arrived at the hotel in one piece around 6:30am, only having dozed on the plane, and promptly fell asleep until 3pm the next day.
Day one, or at least of what I experienced of it, was a crash-course in India. We were stuck in 2+ hours of traffic on our way to dinner. I mentioned to Dr. Vyas that I thought it was interesting that, from our hotel room windows, 6 stories up, there is not a single building at tall anywhere nearby. Rather, scattered below are rows upon rows of cinder block and brick structures with metal siding for roofs,covered in tarps weighed down by bricks; I assume to prevent the roof from leaking during Monsoon season, I was informed that this was “just India” – movie stars in million dollar hotels live right next to others who sleep on the sidewalk under a tarp. Interesting concept; “just India”...
The adventures began on day 2. Yesterday we were driven to the other end of town to meet with AmeriCares India, an NGO focusing on providing basic medical care and emergency preparedness training. The India branch operates in conjunction with 57 other local affiliates as well as sites across the country and serves almost 100 people per day, per site. The branch with which we met has made a commitment to visit each of their service sites once every 15 days. We were told we would be shadowing and assisting the medical team with patient intake and organization.
We joined AmeriCares in the slums of East Anheri, not far from where we are staying. Apparently this area is one of the largest slums in the city, even larger now than Dharavi, where Slumdog Millionaire was filmed, which we will visit on Thursday. As we drove in, I noticed what looked like mosques springing up behind the little buildings, both permanent and makeshift, which lined the street. Pulling up to the edge of the community, we noticed a huge hill that rose above the street, taller than most of the buildings. That is when we were told that this community lived, essentially, on top of one of the largest garbage dumps in the city. Our bus was preceded and followed by garbage trucks coming in and out of the dump. Tall gates surrounded the compound, but only in the very front, and from the bus we could seen people roaming through the piles of trash. Across the street, where the community's buildings actually began, conditions were not much better. Small children roamed barefoot, a few of them carrying their younger siblings, among smaller piles of trash and potholes full of standing water from which stray dogs, cows and goats ate and drank. We passed a couple of fruit stands, the produce covered in flies. This community has little to no running water; I noticed a few large blue barrels set out to collect rain water which, as we were told eventually, people used for washing. Someone muttered under their breath that it was a public health nightmare. Far be it from me to pass judgments, but yeah, I can see what they mean.
The medical team set up shop in a mostly-empty storage compartment an quickly got to work. They were equipped with one computer, one blood pressure cuff and a camera, to do patient intake. They were totally not prepared to put all of us to work, so most of us spent our time talking with the people and smiling at the children. We were followed down the street by a small hoard of children which grew into a mass of members of the community, who all wanted to shake our hands and speak to us in the few English words they knew - “Hello”, “Good day”, etc. The few people in the community who did speak English served as translators for the others. One of whom was a young girl, probably in her late teens, who came to the medical van with her mother and cousins. The girls asked me everything from whether I was married to whether I was wearing colored contact lenses to change my eye color. Many others took pictures of our group.
This may seem surprising- it was to me – but interestingly enough, most people in India, regardless of socioeconomic standing, have cell phones. One of the AmeriCares outreach workers was telling us that they may not have running water, but they go out of their way to have TV and order pizza. “That's just India,” he said as we walked through the alleyways, hearing cricket matches and other programs blasting through various windows.
There it is again! I don't know what to make of that statement on his part, or that line of thinking on the part of those about whom he was speaking. I have not been here long enough to and do not know enough about the culture to say one way or another. Even if I had been here for longer, India is full so many different people, cultures, and lifestyles that to make a sweeping statement like that (not that he knew it would be talked about in my blog) is simply unfair and hopefully untrue. I'm beginning to think that, along with observing example of social entrepreneurship, that's part of what I'm here to find out.
Once I saw how the progression of the morning would go, I decided that I should probably try not to hold my expectations too high. ...Super slow – had to fill out paperwork for the immigration desk, stand in line... we had a moment of panic during which we weren't sure if our bags even made it on the plane. We checked in late for our flight from Turkey – really late – and what if... but they were, in fact, there and eventually we made it from the densely crowded terminal and baggage claim to the densely crowded Arrivals area outside. Eventually we found the group of gentlemen waiting to take us to the hotel. I climbed into the front seat of the van – my first big mistake. As Dr. Vyas, one of the professors responsible for this trip said yesterday, “Never watch the road when you're in a vehicle in India. It will just stress you out”. Truer words have never been spoken. I just wish they had come 24 hours sooner. As our van wove through the dark, pothole filled streets, past construction sites and, what looked like empty shacks, it stalled all of 5 times in what ended up being a 10 minute drive, and dodged car after motorcycle after bus. Apparently there is no concept of right-of-way or staying in you lane. From now on I will sit in the back and stare out the window. We arrived at the hotel in one piece around 6:30am, only having dozed on the plane, and promptly fell asleep until 3pm the next day.
Day one, or at least of what I experienced of it, was a crash-course in India. We were stuck in 2+ hours of traffic on our way to dinner. I mentioned to Dr. Vyas that I thought it was interesting that, from our hotel room windows, 6 stories up, there is not a single building at tall anywhere nearby. Rather, scattered below are rows upon rows of cinder block and brick structures with metal siding for roofs,covered in tarps weighed down by bricks; I assume to prevent the roof from leaking during Monsoon season, I was informed that this was “just India” – movie stars in million dollar hotels live right next to others who sleep on the sidewalk under a tarp. Interesting concept; “just India”...
The adventures began on day 2. Yesterday we were driven to the other end of town to meet with AmeriCares India, an NGO focusing on providing basic medical care and emergency preparedness training. The India branch operates in conjunction with 57 other local affiliates as well as sites across the country and serves almost 100 people per day, per site. The branch with which we met has made a commitment to visit each of their service sites once every 15 days. We were told we would be shadowing and assisting the medical team with patient intake and organization.
We joined AmeriCares in the slums of East Anheri, not far from where we are staying. Apparently this area is one of the largest slums in the city, even larger now than Dharavi, where Slumdog Millionaire was filmed, which we will visit on Thursday. As we drove in, I noticed what looked like mosques springing up behind the little buildings, both permanent and makeshift, which lined the street. Pulling up to the edge of the community, we noticed a huge hill that rose above the street, taller than most of the buildings. That is when we were told that this community lived, essentially, on top of one of the largest garbage dumps in the city. Our bus was preceded and followed by garbage trucks coming in and out of the dump. Tall gates surrounded the compound, but only in the very front, and from the bus we could seen people roaming through the piles of trash. Across the street, where the community's buildings actually began, conditions were not much better. Small children roamed barefoot, a few of them carrying their younger siblings, among smaller piles of trash and potholes full of standing water from which stray dogs, cows and goats ate and drank. We passed a couple of fruit stands, the produce covered in flies. This community has little to no running water; I noticed a few large blue barrels set out to collect rain water which, as we were told eventually, people used for washing. Someone muttered under their breath that it was a public health nightmare. Far be it from me to pass judgments, but yeah, I can see what they mean.
The medical team set up shop in a mostly-empty storage compartment an quickly got to work. They were equipped with one computer, one blood pressure cuff and a camera, to do patient intake. They were totally not prepared to put all of us to work, so most of us spent our time talking with the people and smiling at the children. We were followed down the street by a small hoard of children which grew into a mass of members of the community, who all wanted to shake our hands and speak to us in the few English words they knew - “Hello”, “Good day”, etc. The few people in the community who did speak English served as translators for the others. One of whom was a young girl, probably in her late teens, who came to the medical van with her mother and cousins. The girls asked me everything from whether I was married to whether I was wearing colored contact lenses to change my eye color. Many others took pictures of our group.
This may seem surprising- it was to me – but interestingly enough, most people in India, regardless of socioeconomic standing, have cell phones. One of the AmeriCares outreach workers was telling us that they may not have running water, but they go out of their way to have TV and order pizza. “That's just India,” he said as we walked through the alleyways, hearing cricket matches and other programs blasting through various windows.
There it is again! I don't know what to make of that statement on his part, or that line of thinking on the part of those about whom he was speaking. I have not been here long enough to and do not know enough about the culture to say one way or another. Even if I had been here for longer, India is full so many different people, cultures, and lifestyles that to make a sweeping statement like that (not that he knew it would be talked about in my blog) is simply unfair and hopefully untrue. I'm beginning to think that, along with observing example of social entrepreneurship, that's part of what I'm here to find out.
Monday, August 1, 2011
and then there was Istanbul...
I have never felt so ill-prepared for a trip before. I like to at least do some reading before just showing up, but with classes to finish and just getting myself packed and on the plane seemed to take up most of my time, so I guess that level of preparation wasn't in the cards. Charlotte, Rashi, Lindsy and I were laughing about it as we got off the plane. We had the address to the hostel we booked the week prior, and a guidebook Char inherited from her roommate, who got it for free from Turkish Air when she came through Istanbul, but that was about it. And of course, my cell, which I arranged to have international service during my trip, failed to work. Awesome.
On the bright side, the hostel we booked was right in the middle of 'old town' Istanbul, up the block from the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, the Basilica Cistern¸ the Grand Bazaar. All of this historical sites so close together was like Turkish Disney World, but was so reminiscent of DC; we took to calling the area “the Mall”. We were also pretty close to the Bosphorus river, which separates the Europe side from the Asia side. The country is split between the two – about a quarter of the country consists of a peninsula to the west of Istanbul and then, once over the Bosphorus, the rest is in Asia. Things I would have known had I done my research... Still, it was a great couple of days.
The first day consisted of your typical Istanbul tourist activities – we walked “the Mall” to get a feel for the area and put our map into perspective. We located the important places we wanted to visit and proceeded to consumed our weight in kabob, baklava and Turkish coffee.
The Grand Bazaar was overwhelming and expensive, and not quite what we expected. And their sales tactics are quite... forward. Not unlike some experiences I had in Israel and Greece, the gentlemen selling their wares, be they scarves and jewelery or ceramics and tea, literally jump in your face and don't let you walk away. Also, they are fascinated with Americans. And whether or not we had boyfriends. And we were told we were beautiful every 10 minutes, at least. I swear, if ever an American girl is suffering from low self-esteem, take a trip to Istanbul. They will work you down until you know you are the hottest thing that ever walked on the planet.
After the Bazaar, we headed over to the Blue Mosque, a gorgeous place which looks more like a palace than a place of worship. But then again, I suppose that makes sense. The construction was started in 1609 by Sultan Ahmet I at the age of 19, when he started digging, according to the guidebook. Apparently this process was significant because his officials proceeded with his digging work and 7 years later, in 1616, the 28,900 sq ft domed prayer space, plus the Sultan's mausoleum and a myriad of other chambers was completed. It's a really magnificent building and unfortunately, explaining how beautiful it is on the outside as well as on the inside, is really beyond my capability. We had to take off our shoes and cover our heads/shoulders to go inside. The building itself is not blue, persay, but inside, at least at dusk when we made our way there, the light reflects off the inlaid tiles and produces the most serene blue you've ever seen. Just beautiful. It felt weird taking pictures in a place like that, but I just had to. We only got a few minutes inside because people were beginning to gather for evening prayers and all visitors had to leave. I wish we were able to go observe prayers in session, but according to the security guard, who's English was very broken, that was not possible. We found a rooftop restaurant at which we smoked hookah and overlooked, rather, got us almost level with the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia.
Day two began with a trip to the Turkish Bath – CAUTION – read with digression. This part is not for children, nor for my dad to read, so just skip ahead, Garrett. I don't know what you've heard about the bathhouses, but I can attest its probably true. We showed up, were shown to the women's side (men and women are completely separate at most bath houses, and ours has totally separate facilities), we were given a towel and a pair of standard issue panties, and were led to the very steamy marble bath room. I'm not sure how the baths work, that is, how they get it so hot – if they pump hot water though the room or what, but it was a sauna in there, with a large marble platform on which you get your massage, or just lay until you feel like leaving or taking a dip in the hot tub, or the even hotter tub (yeah it didn't make sense to me either, and personally, by the time I was in there for 30 minutes I needed an ice bath). If we hadn't bonded before the ladies I was traveling with and I were tight now. You would think it might be awkward stripping down mostly naked with a room full of strangers and awaiting your 'bubble wash' and 15 minute massage by the also mostly naked (I would be too if I had to work there; it really was so hot!), large, though very lovely Turkish ladies who work at the bath, but it totally wasn't. It was relaxing and refreshing and we were all compelled, although this was not the original plan, to spring for the added 30 minute oil massage. BEST decision ever. As I received my head-to-toe rub down by a woman who spoke zero English, I felt all the stress of school and preparation for the trip just melt away. I have never gotten a professional massage, but I can see now why people do it. Simply amazing.
We left refreshed, albeit a small miscommunication over the cost of our added massages, and enjoyed the rest of the day. We visited the Basilica Cistern, which is part of an ancient water system two stories underground, and the whole thing is held up by dozens of columns, two of which are supported by heads of Medusa. You know, the mythical character with snakes for hair. We learned about the cistern during our Environmental Health as a prime example of water storage and were very excited at the idea of sending pictures to Dr. LaPuma. While there were tons of tourists down there, it was really lovely. It was 15-20 degrees cooler than the outside temperature, dark and echoey, and a welcome break from the hot sun and crowds in the city.
That evening, Jenn Mendoza (another girl in my Masters program who met up with us) and I went to see the Whirling Dervishes. It was a must on my Turkish to-do list. I didn't know a lot about Turkey, but I was aware of the Dervishes, even if only mildly. I knew it was something I could only do there, so I made a point to find out where it was and actually get to do it. Things work very differently in Turkey, and really everywhere outside of the US. I found a website for a place which held a Dervish ceremony – they make it very clear – they are not performers – Dervishes are an ancient order of Sufi who, according to Rumi, the founder of the practice, believe that movement, specifically spinning in circles, to put it simply, brings one closer to the higher power in which they believe. The directions on the website were vague to say the least – no street address, just a poorly detailed map which brings you down somewhere behind the Blue Mosque. I wrote down the directions I saw as best I could – first right, second left, and so on. We left the hostel way later than anticipated and had only 10 minutes to get there by the time we made it to the Blue Mosque, and really had not idea as to how far it actually was. We wound around through the streets and what looked like back-alleys and when we got to a part of the road at which we had to cross under train tracks, I forced myself to stop and ask for directions. I only knew a part of the location's name, but apparently we were close enough that the guy we stopped was like, “It's right over there”, across the train tracks. Sure enough, we found it and were in our seats within minutes of the presentation. Oh man, am I thankful for my sense of direction! The first 20 minutes was a Sufi music concert, played by a 4-piece band on instruments I had never seen before. I wish I had more time to look these things up, maybe I will make an addendum later, but it was beautiful music and very reminiscent of some music to which we used to do Israeli dancing at camp. During the concert, a Powepoint presentation of Rumi quotes and Dervish pictures was projected onto the wall behind the musicians. Now, Rumi's material is deeply rooted in religious faith, and discusses his faith as an act of ecstatic love. Needless to say, it can be pretty trippy. Char was telling me that she had friends in college who would get high and read Rumi. Now I can see why.
“This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.”
and
Love is from the infinite, and will remain until eternity.
The seeker of love escapes the chains of birth and death.
Tomorrow, when resurrection comes,
The heart that is not in love will fail the test.
...just to name a few. Needless to say, I am just a little obsessed with this writing. Got to find myself a book of his stuff when I get home!
Anyway, after that, the Dervishes appeared, and began their ceremony by removing the long black robes they wear over their traditional garb – the tall fez-like hat and white jacket and skirts – and each piece is symbolic of the death of the ego and pledged service to G-d. They begin with their arms crossed and in each part of the ceremony a different one has a different responsibility – sometimes they all begin to spin together, and sometimes one starts before or after. Sometimes one puts on his black robe and does not participate. Sometimes they start and stop all at different times. Unfortunately they did not explain the significance of each, but it was fascinating nonetheless. They spin so fast, and with their eyes closed. Once they begin, with their arms outstretched above their heads, they seem to go dead from the neck-up, but their feet are going crazy! The guidebook said it takes over a year for them to just learn the steps and how not to get dizzy. It was a lovely ceremony to observe and I am so glad I got to go.
We had very elaborate plans to get up the next morning early to make it to the Hagia Sophia, one of the largest churches in the world, which now, in part at least, is an art museum, and go on a cruise on the Bosphorus. However, we decided to go out that night to Taksim Square, which, for you DCites, is like AdMo on crack. The bars doesn't get pumping until well after 1am, even though it was packed when we got down there at 9:30. It was so interesting to see, and it was our first time leaving “the Mall”. After much debate over where to go, we found a few fun places. The down side to this part of town were all the club hustlers. They approach you on the street and say “Hey, come to my club”. They try to lure you in with cheap drinks (which they never are) and good music (which it never is) and it end up being a) a fourth floor walk-up smoky bar with a ton of men – zero women, b) a basement pub with terrible techno music and rude staff, or c) a bar with stand-up comedy. In Turkish. By strike three, it was almost 3am and I was outta there.
We got a few hours of sleep before it was time to try to squeeze in everything we left for the last day. We never made it to Hagia Sophia, but thankfully we did make it to the river cruise. We sat at the back of the boat with out legs dangling over the edge and enjoyed the sunshine and the architecture. We spent most of the cruise talking about the houses and about the kids who were cannon-balling into the water from the public parks which backed up to the river banks. The river runs between the Europe and Asia sides and from the boat, out on the water, you can see where it meets the Black Sea. Just lovely. It was only an hour and a half, but it was the perfect last-activity to close out our trip. We stopped for lunch at a café overlooking the water, took a quick spin through the spice bazaar and made our way to the airport.
Goodbye Turkey, hello India!
*I will post pictures soon!
On the bright side, the hostel we booked was right in the middle of 'old town' Istanbul, up the block from the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, the Basilica Cistern¸ the Grand Bazaar. All of this historical sites so close together was like Turkish Disney World, but was so reminiscent of DC; we took to calling the area “the Mall”. We were also pretty close to the Bosphorus river, which separates the Europe side from the Asia side. The country is split between the two – about a quarter of the country consists of a peninsula to the west of Istanbul and then, once over the Bosphorus, the rest is in Asia. Things I would have known had I done my research... Still, it was a great couple of days.
The first day consisted of your typical Istanbul tourist activities – we walked “the Mall” to get a feel for the area and put our map into perspective. We located the important places we wanted to visit and proceeded to consumed our weight in kabob, baklava and Turkish coffee.
The Grand Bazaar was overwhelming and expensive, and not quite what we expected. And their sales tactics are quite... forward. Not unlike some experiences I had in Israel and Greece, the gentlemen selling their wares, be they scarves and jewelery or ceramics and tea, literally jump in your face and don't let you walk away. Also, they are fascinated with Americans. And whether or not we had boyfriends. And we were told we were beautiful every 10 minutes, at least. I swear, if ever an American girl is suffering from low self-esteem, take a trip to Istanbul. They will work you down until you know you are the hottest thing that ever walked on the planet.
After the Bazaar, we headed over to the Blue Mosque, a gorgeous place which looks more like a palace than a place of worship. But then again, I suppose that makes sense. The construction was started in 1609 by Sultan Ahmet I at the age of 19, when he started digging, according to the guidebook. Apparently this process was significant because his officials proceeded with his digging work and 7 years later, in 1616, the 28,900 sq ft domed prayer space, plus the Sultan's mausoleum and a myriad of other chambers was completed. It's a really magnificent building and unfortunately, explaining how beautiful it is on the outside as well as on the inside, is really beyond my capability. We had to take off our shoes and cover our heads/shoulders to go inside. The building itself is not blue, persay, but inside, at least at dusk when we made our way there, the light reflects off the inlaid tiles and produces the most serene blue you've ever seen. Just beautiful. It felt weird taking pictures in a place like that, but I just had to. We only got a few minutes inside because people were beginning to gather for evening prayers and all visitors had to leave. I wish we were able to go observe prayers in session, but according to the security guard, who's English was very broken, that was not possible. We found a rooftop restaurant at which we smoked hookah and overlooked, rather, got us almost level with the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia.
Day two began with a trip to the Turkish Bath – CAUTION – read with digression. This part is not for children, nor for my dad to read, so just skip ahead, Garrett. I don't know what you've heard about the bathhouses, but I can attest its probably true. We showed up, were shown to the women's side (men and women are completely separate at most bath houses, and ours has totally separate facilities), we were given a towel and a pair of standard issue panties, and were led to the very steamy marble bath room. I'm not sure how the baths work, that is, how they get it so hot – if they pump hot water though the room or what, but it was a sauna in there, with a large marble platform on which you get your massage, or just lay until you feel like leaving or taking a dip in the hot tub, or the even hotter tub (yeah it didn't make sense to me either, and personally, by the time I was in there for 30 minutes I needed an ice bath). If we hadn't bonded before the ladies I was traveling with and I were tight now. You would think it might be awkward stripping down mostly naked with a room full of strangers and awaiting your 'bubble wash' and 15 minute massage by the also mostly naked (I would be too if I had to work there; it really was so hot!), large, though very lovely Turkish ladies who work at the bath, but it totally wasn't. It was relaxing and refreshing and we were all compelled, although this was not the original plan, to spring for the added 30 minute oil massage. BEST decision ever. As I received my head-to-toe rub down by a woman who spoke zero English, I felt all the stress of school and preparation for the trip just melt away. I have never gotten a professional massage, but I can see now why people do it. Simply amazing.
We left refreshed, albeit a small miscommunication over the cost of our added massages, and enjoyed the rest of the day. We visited the Basilica Cistern, which is part of an ancient water system two stories underground, and the whole thing is held up by dozens of columns, two of which are supported by heads of Medusa. You know, the mythical character with snakes for hair. We learned about the cistern during our Environmental Health as a prime example of water storage and were very excited at the idea of sending pictures to Dr. LaPuma. While there were tons of tourists down there, it was really lovely. It was 15-20 degrees cooler than the outside temperature, dark and echoey, and a welcome break from the hot sun and crowds in the city.
That evening, Jenn Mendoza (another girl in my Masters program who met up with us) and I went to see the Whirling Dervishes. It was a must on my Turkish to-do list. I didn't know a lot about Turkey, but I was aware of the Dervishes, even if only mildly. I knew it was something I could only do there, so I made a point to find out where it was and actually get to do it. Things work very differently in Turkey, and really everywhere outside of the US. I found a website for a place which held a Dervish ceremony – they make it very clear – they are not performers – Dervishes are an ancient order of Sufi who, according to Rumi, the founder of the practice, believe that movement, specifically spinning in circles, to put it simply, brings one closer to the higher power in which they believe. The directions on the website were vague to say the least – no street address, just a poorly detailed map which brings you down somewhere behind the Blue Mosque. I wrote down the directions I saw as best I could – first right, second left, and so on. We left the hostel way later than anticipated and had only 10 minutes to get there by the time we made it to the Blue Mosque, and really had not idea as to how far it actually was. We wound around through the streets and what looked like back-alleys and when we got to a part of the road at which we had to cross under train tracks, I forced myself to stop and ask for directions. I only knew a part of the location's name, but apparently we were close enough that the guy we stopped was like, “It's right over there”, across the train tracks. Sure enough, we found it and were in our seats within minutes of the presentation. Oh man, am I thankful for my sense of direction! The first 20 minutes was a Sufi music concert, played by a 4-piece band on instruments I had never seen before. I wish I had more time to look these things up, maybe I will make an addendum later, but it was beautiful music and very reminiscent of some music to which we used to do Israeli dancing at camp. During the concert, a Powepoint presentation of Rumi quotes and Dervish pictures was projected onto the wall behind the musicians. Now, Rumi's material is deeply rooted in religious faith, and discusses his faith as an act of ecstatic love. Needless to say, it can be pretty trippy. Char was telling me that she had friends in college who would get high and read Rumi. Now I can see why.
“This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.”
and
Love is from the infinite, and will remain until eternity.
The seeker of love escapes the chains of birth and death.
Tomorrow, when resurrection comes,
The heart that is not in love will fail the test.
...just to name a few. Needless to say, I am just a little obsessed with this writing. Got to find myself a book of his stuff when I get home!
Anyway, after that, the Dervishes appeared, and began their ceremony by removing the long black robes they wear over their traditional garb – the tall fez-like hat and white jacket and skirts – and each piece is symbolic of the death of the ego and pledged service to G-d. They begin with their arms crossed and in each part of the ceremony a different one has a different responsibility – sometimes they all begin to spin together, and sometimes one starts before or after. Sometimes one puts on his black robe and does not participate. Sometimes they start and stop all at different times. Unfortunately they did not explain the significance of each, but it was fascinating nonetheless. They spin so fast, and with their eyes closed. Once they begin, with their arms outstretched above their heads, they seem to go dead from the neck-up, but their feet are going crazy! The guidebook said it takes over a year for them to just learn the steps and how not to get dizzy. It was a lovely ceremony to observe and I am so glad I got to go.
We had very elaborate plans to get up the next morning early to make it to the Hagia Sophia, one of the largest churches in the world, which now, in part at least, is an art museum, and go on a cruise on the Bosphorus. However, we decided to go out that night to Taksim Square, which, for you DCites, is like AdMo on crack. The bars doesn't get pumping until well after 1am, even though it was packed when we got down there at 9:30. It was so interesting to see, and it was our first time leaving “the Mall”. After much debate over where to go, we found a few fun places. The down side to this part of town were all the club hustlers. They approach you on the street and say “Hey, come to my club”. They try to lure you in with cheap drinks (which they never are) and good music (which it never is) and it end up being a) a fourth floor walk-up smoky bar with a ton of men – zero women, b) a basement pub with terrible techno music and rude staff, or c) a bar with stand-up comedy. In Turkish. By strike three, it was almost 3am and I was outta there.
We got a few hours of sleep before it was time to try to squeeze in everything we left for the last day. We never made it to Hagia Sophia, but thankfully we did make it to the river cruise. We sat at the back of the boat with out legs dangling over the edge and enjoyed the sunshine and the architecture. We spent most of the cruise talking about the houses and about the kids who were cannon-balling into the water from the public parks which backed up to the river banks. The river runs between the Europe and Asia sides and from the boat, out on the water, you can see where it meets the Black Sea. Just lovely. It was only an hour and a half, but it was the perfect last-activity to close out our trip. We stopped for lunch at a café overlooking the water, took a quick spin through the spice bazaar and made our way to the airport.
Goodbye Turkey, hello India!
*I will post pictures soon!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
checklist
Sunscreen, check. Malaria meds, check. Passport and visa, check and check.
If you have seen me or heard from me in the past month or so, my big news is my upcoming big trip to India, with a short stop-over in Istanbul for 3-ish days. I'm going for school, for a course entitled "Introduction to Social Entrepreneurship". For those not familiar with social entrepreneurship (I, for one, was not prior to this course), it's basically the following, according to my class syllabus:
Social entrepreneurship is the nurturing and development of ideas the leads to new programs or approaches to social issues identified in a community. The fundamental premises are that the program (1) is an innovative approach to solving a social issue, (2) is consistent with the broader mission of the organization, (3) benefits the civic life of the community, (4) benefits the clients of the program, and (5) is managed in a way that is operationally feasible for the organization.
Basically, we are going to India to meet with nonprofits and health-related organizations who fit this definition, see how they work and meet the brains behind the operations. But that's just for the first 12 days. Then I get to do some legit backpacking for 2+weeks. Basically, this is my dream-trip.
I'm packed. I'm excited. I have my required textbooks, and everything on the provided checklist. If you know me at all, you know I have been dying to go to India for years. So how in the world can I, after weeks of planning, organizing and preparing, say that I don't feel ready?
It really has nothing to do with my actual preparation (or lack thereof...). India, at least in my understanding, is not a place that anyone who hasn't been can really "prepare" to experience, nor does it make complete sense to those who have been there. I have done my reading, spoken with native Indians and previous visitors alike (seen some Bollywood too - love it!!). But I know, in reality, that there is no book I can flip through, nor film I can watch that will truly capture the place or people that I will see and meet in a few short days, and I suppose I need to be ok with that. I am ready as I will ever be, and I think I can wait the few short days to get there, and take from the experience whatever it offers me.
And off I go...
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