Globalization?

I’m in Ludhiana after being in Chandigarh for a number of days. I’m doing more workshops, refining, doing my best to help others, to build capacity in their organisations. It’s slow work and people get it, but will they carry it through or just learn and then leave behind their learnings? What more can I do to help? I give it my all everyday, until I’m exhausted. I can do it for them, but what good is that as it won’t last if there is no buy-in and people don’t make the ideas their own.

I realize more and more how important “fish” (http://www.charthouse.com/content.aspx?name=home2) is and want to keep teaching it and also realize that I must treat others the way in which I want to be treated. I was a little put off tonight, only my ego, as my host excused me to the Parker House, where I’m staying and said that I could eat dinner there. (I realized after later conversation that the degree of interaction may be something that was not expected. I ended up eating breakfast and lunch at my host’s and became friends with my host’s children. It was all wonderful and is more about building relationships than anything else, as we all have our own ways of doing this). But this place wasn’t really for me. On a college campus PAU and the room has a big water splotch on one of the walls. I walked in the canteen today, but it didn’t look that appetizing either.

As I walked in downtown Ludhiana I came upon a pretty good Indian restaurant, and after eating I decided to walk a bit to see more of this town. I’ve been told that there is nothing to see in Ludhiana and it appears that this may be the truth.

I walked to a mall and there I saw a McD’s, a KFC and a Baskin Robbins. I walked into the mall and it was like any other mall, anywhere, nothing Indian about it. To some extent this is depressing to me, as India loses its identity in becoming modern. It’s about globalization and the ability to turn people into consumers of products that have no special value, except that they are enjoyed in the “west”. I have to say that I did go into a McDonalds’s with my hosts in Chandigarh, Capt. Kohli and his wife Dr. Kohli, but they were the ones who wanted to eat there for a light snack. I had a veggie burger, fries and a soda for 85 rupees, ok so I can’t get this in the US and it was tasty.

The point and sadness for me is seeing the Golden Arches and Col. Saunders in a place where they should never have been invited, where they should have been stopped at the border. It takes away from the magic of India. It’s anywhere USA, the middle of nowhere, but yet it’s in Ludhiana and Chandigarh. It’s globalization at its worse, no exceptions. Young and middle class Indians “enjoying” the “best” (worst) of what I grew up with.

I’m not really sure how to deal with this part of globalization. Yes it creates some jobs and hopefully teaches something about customer service, which is something that is important in India, but it also somehow makes the landscape much uglier than it might be.

One might argue that the location of these restaurants, mainly in malls, brightens things up and that these areas are neat and clean, something that one doesn’t find much of, except in the most plush places. (Chandigarh was quite an exception to this, a clean, somewhat green city. It was a welcome contrast to Delhi and most of the other cities that I’ve visited. People even seemed to drive with some civility). But it also creates plasticity, the homogeneity, which makes the west, less alive and uninteresting, with some exceptions.

Like the dire poverty that is so omnipresent, and one really can’t do much about, the further coming of globalization and it’s sameness is something that most likely can’t be stopped unless developing countries governments put a stop sign up. But is any government going to stop a McD’s or KFC from coming to their country? I haven’t seen a Wal*Mart yet, but who will stop them from coming once they start digging in adn finding markets for their products. As the superstore occurs in developing countries and people’s ways of shopping change this will continue to destroy the magic that is so prevalent.

I do suppose that even the cows will be moved out of Delhi at some point. But then again maybe not.

Badhte Kadam

Badhte Kadam


“The winds dance in their own path,
Clouds give rain wherever they want
We will also choose our own path
We will take steps forward all together

We have been born on earth
And we are not less than anyone
We agree we have a disability
But we are still a part of this society

Everyone only sees our disability
They have to understand our likes and dislikes
Make plans for us
Only when you understand what we have on our mind

To stay alive we need food, clothes and a house
To really live we need Rights, Trust and Dignity

We need your help to increase our strength
We want the friendship of friends to take our journey forward.”

Badhte Kadam Theme Song as translated from the Hindi by NT Chairperson Poonam Natarajan


As I sat in my apartment on November 14, 2009 listening to the beautiful theme song of Badhte Kadam, my eyes filled with tears and I sobbed as I felt throughout my entire body all of the work and effort that had gone into the process of coordinating/facilitating this major awareness raising campaign throughout India.

The four teams of six volunteers, two drivers and two cars, loaded with so many pounds of awareness materials that they made the 12 seat Tempo Travelers tilt backwards, had just left hours earlier from the Youth Hostel in Delhi. I spent the evening of November 13 at the Youth Hostel with our volunteers waiting for the morning when all of our months of planning would come to fruition and the teams would leave on their journeys to each visit 15 National Trust partners for a total of 60 throughout the states of Haryana, Himachal Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Madhya Pradesh, Chattisgarh, Bihar, Jharkhand, Orissa, UP, Rajasthan, Gujarat, Maharashtra, Punjab. Given the fact that there were two cars on each route this would translate into well over 20,000 km covered throughout India.

But let’s back up to how this all started. It has been very interesting for me to read articles in the VSO India newsletter, to reflect and to know what other volunteers are going through, as my story is somewhat similar.

As I arrived in mid-April at my job with the National Trust (NT), I was eager to help out in any way that I could. I felt that due to the fact that NT had previously not had any international volunteers, that it was important to make a great impression. I would be willing to take on a number of tasks to show how volunteers could truly make an impact as well as a difference.

In discussing possible assignments with my bosses, Poonam Natarajan and Atul Prasad, Badhte Kadam was brought to my attention. With my usual enthusiasm (and some naïveté) I said, “of course I’ll work on this”. Never mind the fact that this project had been thought of over a year ago, but had stalled due to numerous reasons and the fact that I didn’t speak Hindi, I was going to do it. I thought, collaboration no matter where one does it, is possible because people do want to work together towards common goals and be part of something that would have such a large reach.

I met with a couple of people to find out about the background of Badhte Kadam and from this we developed a committee consisting of other volunteers, professionals working in the disability area, and some staff to implement the project. I knew going in that we had a very short planning timeframe as the programme was to be implemented in mid-November in time for completion by World Disability Day on December 3. This gave us less than six months to plan an event that involved coordinating with 60 partners throughout India, some with e-mail, and some that didn’t open their e-mails, some that didn’t speak English and some that didn’t answer their phones, finding 24 volunteers through a national search, having a project budget adopted by the NT board, designing and ordering a myriad of materials, reaching consensus on the part of a number of people, all of whom were extremely busy and doing a project outside of the proverbial “box”.

My initial reaction was to “start small”, do two routes and have some success that we could build on. But, we needed to head north, south, east and west and so four routes were planned. “No problem.” These are words that I’ve become used to and probably even dreamt about on occasion. Of course, no problem, as nothing was considered to be too large or unreachable.

As the coordinator/facilitator I was given the responsibility of bringing people together and chairing meetings. I thought how funny, the guy who says “Mei thodi Hindi bolta hoo, lekin mei sikraha hoo, (I speak a little Hindi, but I’m learning) is chairing meetings. Indians who speak English don’t even understand what I’m saying because of my California accent, which I thought never existed, and when I said Badhte Kadam, people would say what, and then say oh, Badhte Kadam. I would of course reply with isn’t that what I said and they would just smile. Unofficially I started calling this event BK, which everyone understood, and seemed to catch on with those connected with this project.

I would do my usual thing, build relationships, send out lots of e-mails and constantly communicate, hold regularly scheduled, well-timed meetings, be persistent and this would all come together. At times during meetings, I was able to get people to turn off their cell phones, which is not an easy task, and had only one person talking at a time, as I banged my fists on the table with the approval of my bosses, who would laughingly smile.

We got off to a great start-set our mission: To raise awareness of the disability sector and National Trust and established goals: (1) provide information on the UNCRPD-Human Rights Model, (2) provide understanding of NT focused disabilities, and (3) celebrating diversity. We established committees: press, budget, NGO, volunteer recruitment, materials and programme.

Things were moving forward and I felt, “yes, we don’t have a lot of time, but we’ll do it”. But, I’d set a meeting at a certain start time, and less people started coming and when they did arrive, they were typically late. I countered with I’m going to start on time, but would at times find myself in the conference room by myself, saying ok 10 more minutes and then I’m leaving. I had to constantly cajole the staff to come to meetings and even they wouldn’t necessarily arrive on time. Additionally, only a few committees were meeting on a regular basis.

OK, ok so we still had this huge task and it was going to happen. A super professional, a volunteer named Chitra Vasudevan, really stepped up her efforts and things were moving. Atul directed staff to make things happen and again we were moving. We were able to choose the 24 volunteers from about 100 applicants, we did a bit of training for some of our partners at our Annual General Meeting (AGM) in August and things looked better.

But again fewer people were attending meetings and the staff were busy doing their regular jobs. Chitra came in with Gantt Charts and Mind Maps laying out specifically what each committee needed to do and somehow we kept things flowing and Poonam focused on the mobile exhibition, which was her brainchild. This exhibit, featured 25 posters, including some pictures that I had taken at some of our partner NGOs, told about the UNCRPD and how we needed to change the way in which we viewed the “disabled” population.

We worked with Epistle Solutions, a group of three men focused on media and design. We had previously worked with them in designing our “corporate branding” which was voted on by staff and which is now featured on all NT publications. This small group is very talented and creative and they designed the BK logo, bags and mobile exhibition posters. They worked, what seemed to me like, 24 hours a day for eternity on our project. I would call Aditya, the Epistle owner, at many different times and while I waited to talk to him, what sounded to me like a country song would play. I thought, who is this guy listening to. As it turned out it was Elvis Presley as Aditya is a huge Elvis fan.

I continued to send out e-mails in hopes that people would attend our meetings. Shekhar Borker, one of our board members, was someone who came to our rescue with numerous ideas, always in attendance, always on time, always with a smile.

Of course, there was also Chitra working day and night. Chitra, a very bright woman with a corporate background, full of so much talent, really kept things on track. I was at a disadvantage as I tried to cajole our NGOs and volunteers to respond to my e-mails, some did, but many didn’t understand what I was trying to say. As an example I used ASAP in one of my e-mails to our volunteers. Chitra told me that people had no idea what I was talking about. Assumptions, hmmm.. Chitra would make so many calls from her cell getting the NGOs and volunteers to commit. We had some help from Alok and Rohit, who screened the potential volunteers by phone.

But even this was difficult as people would commit to being volunteers and then drop out. We went through so many permutations of volunteers with Chitra and I now talking daily on Skype in the evenings. At the very last minute, the day before the orientation training was to start; we came up with our 24th volunteer, a young man from Delhi named Vikram, who had never been out of the City. One of the staff also joined as a volunteer and we were up to 25.

The NGOs were all supposed to provide me with a “mela” or programme plan by October 1. We used the carrot of providing 10000 rupees once we heard from the NGOs. October 1 came and went with only a few of the NGOs telling me what they were going to do. It seemed that everyday I was trying to obtain these plans, but planning is not something that is well integrated into citizen’s organisation (NGO) culture, with last minute doing being the modus operandi. This is not always negative, but being a type A Californian who wants to know in advance, it did make me a bit pagl or crazy.

Chitra and I, in our lower moments, would prop each other up. Fortunately, neither of us hit a low moment at the same time. Some of the organisations came and went as well and we had to find substitutes. It was always though, “no problem”, a very positive attitude.

I was able to get an intern, who I had met, at the South Asian Fundraising Group annual conference in Jaipur, in August, to help me. But after helping a bit, she disappeared. Some of the staff helped, but again the draw of their paperwork kept them from helping out full-time. But there was Chitra, always dependable, typically with a smile and I knew that it could be done.

Once Atul, told staff they had to do certain things they responded and it was happening, but many things were still so last minute. We had so many materials to order, booklets, which Chitra had put together, the mobile exhibition posters, key chains, toffees, bags, t-shirts, hats, jackets and supplies. We didn’t leave ourselves enough time to really see samples and so the t-shirts didn’t come out exactly the way that they should have to match the caps, but we were all hustling. Ruby, who takes care of the materials ordering seemed to be somewhat in her glory, but was also very stressed out by it all. The mobile exhibition posters came in, 100 sets of 25 but there were no numbers on them and then we started numbering them incorrectly. On the evening before our flag off and volunteer orientation, November 12, the conference room was filled with posters as we started putting the sets together. People were singing and I was wondering what was happening.

The night before our flag out ceremony featuring the Minister of Social Justice and Empowerment Shri Wasnik, we still didn’t have all of the materials. We had to pack the vehicles so that we could do a mock flag off and I thought how are we going to do this.
The volunteers had all arrived in Delhi on November 12 and on November 13 we conducted an orientation where the volunteers chose their teams and team leaders. I was able to facilitate this part and the teams were chosen and the leaders picked. There was so much positive energy in the room and as the volunteers practiced singing the BK theme song I was filled with so much pride, as it was all so contagious.

As we finished the volunteer orientation and the crowds started filling the speaker’s hall at the Constitution Club it all felt as if we had succeeded. We held a great press conference, the lamp was lit, the volunteers were so enthusiastic and once again sang the theme song. The Going Solo NGO, which works with street kids and is led by Manisha, did a play about debunking disability myths. The volunteers jumped into the now fully loaded vehicles, as the Minister flagged them off and they went to spend the evening at the International Youth Hostel.

The morning of November 14 everyone was up bright and early. I wanted the teams to leave by 8 AM, but we needed to do a pooja or prayer service and by the time pictures were taken and Alok finished with the service, the teams were ready to leave closer to 9 AM. Poonam, Atul, Shekhar, Chitra and I were there to wish the teams a good journey and after went out to breakfast at the Indian International Centre.

The teams called Chitra and me everyday to update us on their progress, and pictures and reports started flowing in. There were many newspaper articles written in the local press creating the awareness that we so desired. The melas sounded wonderful, full of dancing, singing, and the usual fun associated with Indian celebrations. Yes, there were issues that came up as well, the one NGO that had made reservations at a very expensive hotel and then didn’t want to pay for it, squabbles among some of the team members, but all in all things remained on the positive side.

The volunteers made their way back to Delhi on November 30, with a flag in with the State Minister of Social Justice and Empowerment, Shri Napoleon, a south Indian film star with a wonderful singing voice. (I was later told that in his day he was a basketball player, as he is quite tall). At the flag in, besides celebrating the accomplishments of our volunteers, we also saluted a number of special Olympians, the first time that this had occurred by an Indian governmental body. We sang our theme song and enjoyed the camaraderie that had been formed since November 13.

On December 1, we held a debriefing with our volunteers to find out what they thought and to share lunch between them and our staff. We gained a lot of valuable information which will be used in planning for the 2010 Bk.

On December 3, we displayed many of the items from BK-posters, mobile exhibition, the pieces of cloth with messages written from the melas-at the World Disability Day (WDD) rally at India Gate. This was something that I had really wanted to do as a kind of wrap up to the campaign and it was amazing to be at India Gate at 7:45 AM with some of the BK volunteers, putting up this exhibition. This was the first time that NT had a display like this at the WDD rally. (We spent a good deal of time trying to decide the best way to display the items and met with Javit who is a well known disability advocate in India- there was recently a story about him in Business Outlook in an article about social entrepreneurs and also a chapter about him in the book, “How to Change the World” as he is the organizer of the WDD rally. On December 2 we went to the office of Pringle Art, down some alleys and looked at these pots being painted that would be filled with sand with a bamboo pole in the middle for hanging our materials. The pots were still being painted at 8 PM, only a few were done and again I thought, how is this all going to happen. Of course the pots were at India Gate when I arrived at 7:45 AM, which meant that I was on the metro at 6 AM)

That evening I attended the National Disability awards and besides again seeing the two Ministers I also was able to see the Indian President. When I greeted Shri Wasnik wearing my BK t-shirt and hat he recognized me from the flag out. This was such a wonderful feeling to know that this Minister, same as a cabinet position in the US, was recognizing the awareness work that we were doing.

I have been given accolades from others in helping to make BK a reality, where the words, “no problem” have taken on a new meaning. But I also know that none of this was possible without VSO enabling me to come to India, without the strong leadership of both Poonam and Atul, without super Chitra and the always smiling and full of ideas Shekhar, without Deepika, Ruby, Subhash, Rajnish and the many other staff, who even at the last minute pitched in and helped with loading the vehicles, with the Flag Out and Flag In, getting money out to the NGOs to conduct their melas, having fun and listening to my rantings, without the NGO partners and the BK volunteers and the people who attended the melas, without the Epistle Solutions team or Pringle Art, without the group of volunteers that initially started helping us.

Yes, a few of us did an inordinate amount of work on this project, but it does take a team, no matter how this is defined to make an event like this happen. It takes every one of us, no matter how much or how little planning is done, to join hands and continue the fight, no matter what that fight is. This is the only way and it truly is “no problem”.

Stranger Than Fiction the NBA

As some of you know given my passion for basketball, I had contacted the NBA, earlier this year. I've been e-mailing a number of times with a guy named Brooks Meek, Senior Director, Basketball Operations - International, and found out that the NBA is going to be doing more in India. I most recently e-mailed Brooks last week.

Tonight as i usually do on Saturdays I was coaching b-ball with a group of 28 Indian children at the Delhi YMCA. About the last 15 minutes or so I noticed that there were two light skinned guys watching the action on the far end of the court. One guy was particularly tall.

I ended my coaching session and walked over to the guys to introduce myself. Lo and behold one of the guys was Brooks! Imagine how astonished I was. Brook told me that he hadn't had time to write to me, but was in Delhi with the tall dude, to meet with the India Basketball Federation (IBF) about ramping things up here. He told me that Heidi Uberroth, who is President of NBA International, and the daughter of Peter Uberroth was going to be in Delhi on Monday to meet with the IBF. (I am going to Chandigarh on Sunday, so won't have any time to further meet with anyone, but nobody asked anyway). Brooks is going to Chennai on Thursday with Dikembe Mutombo to do some NBA things in that city. He will also be meeting with my contact at the Y, Rajiv Singh on Monday.

Is there a future for me with the NBA? Who really knows, but I do know that magic happens in India. (Brooks told me that once they hire someone, a 20 year coach, that this person will contact me). One just has to open their heart and mind to the possibilities.

On Weddings and Popcorn and Peanuts

As I walked home at the end of my journey from playing basketball tonight, I came upon a marching band. There must have been at least 10 members and in front of them was a man standing with a well-dressed horse. Next to the band were a number of decorative chandeliers powered by a motor. I had put myself in the middle of another wedding, 9:15 PM, a Wednesday, the astrological charts were at the right point for the young couple standing in the midst of this, matter of fact kind of thing for India. As I took a few movies, just to let the folks back home know that I was telling the truth, people smiled knowingly at me.

The band started moving and so did I to my next usual stop on Wednesday nights, my man who provides me with fresh popcorn and hot roasted nuts. The man clasps his hands together and says Namaste and say this back. He always seems happy to see me, like somehow by spending 20 rupees, 10 on the nuts and 10 on the popcorn I might bring him some kind of good fortune. I watch as the man throws popcorn kernels into the bottom of his wok which is filled with sand. The kernels start to pop and by using a screen none escape to the street beside me. He finishes popping, strains the sand out of the popcorn and puts it into a bag. He always gives me more than any other of these popcorn/nut guys. I walk away satisfied once again to have this delicacy.

A young man is walking besides me and asks the obligatory question, “where are you from?” I say, “America” and he says, “Canada”, I say, “no United States” and he says, “USA”. I turn left to walk to my house and as I approach the entrance I hear my little three year old Galoo crying, yet again at the top of her lungs.

The Camel Festival

October 24, 2009

Can’t believe that it’s been a month since I’ve last written. Another month in India and I’ve been here for seven now. My first visitors from the US, Cindy and Melissa are here and they brought me quite a stash of items from home, lots of home baked goodies from friends, a video message from Daniel, candy bars and even some art work from my cousins to hang in my apartment. Of course my dad sent me a Lakers World Championship t-shirt which now is part of the fabric of my bedroom. India continues to feel more like home everday.

My work is going so very well and I’m so very busy, hopefully contributing to making the world a better place. I’m also very involved with VSO, serving on a number of committees, always working to make the volunteer experience better. There of course is also the piece about building capacity at the Programme Office. During the past month I conducted my first four day capacity building/organizational development workshop. It went very well and thanks to a translator, a young Indian woman, with a lovely smile, I was able to, I think get across the messages that I was trying to convey. I’m will be in Southern India for the entire month of January with my lovely girlfriend Len, conducting three different workshops in three different states and I just can’t wait.

I’ve also spent so much time on Badhte Kadam, moving forward, an awareness raising campaign across India that is due for flag off on November 14. This has been a major effort and thanks to especially one NT volunteer, Chitra, this effort is proceeding, 24 volunteers, 4 routes-north, south, east and west, 8 vehicles, 22,000 kilometers of driving distance, 60 Citizen’s Organisations, and I don’t know how many e-mails and phone calls. It is truly amazing and I can’t wait for the flag off and the return of the volunteers.

Overall, after seven months, I feel very good about India. Today I walked out of my apartment and there was a Bihari holiday taking place, a temporary market, beautiful saris, the continue amazing magic that is India. The more I see the more I love.

I continue to have my moments of wanting to train everyone in “proper” manners, but of course it is all just a temporary thing.

November 4, 2009

On the train to Agra. I was last there in February 2006, but now I’m with my friends Cindy and Melissa. We’ve had a wonderful visit and it is so much fun to show my friends the world in which I live.

We spent this past weekend in Pushkar at the Camel Fair. It was very unworldly to me as I stood in the middle of many camels last Friday during twilight. As I said to Melissa, “which planet are we on?” and she responded with “Camelot”. Oh my!

Pushkar is a lovely town, everything that I would have imagined India to be. Markets galore, women dressed in so many colorful saris, men with turbans and everywhere shopkeepers asking me to come in. I was surprised to see so many signs in Hebrew as apparently many Israelis come to Pushkar for a vacation. I even found a Chabad house which I went into and wrapped the Tefelin around myself and read Hebrew. I remember even after all of these years. It was very special for me to connect with some of my roots.

The food was wonderful and we had pancakes, the Indian kind, falafel, a great pizza which we all devoured. Other friends also accompanied us-Joe and Sophia and Mark who rode in on his motorcycle from an incredible tour of the mountains in India. It’s was so special to be not only with my friends, but also with my very good VSO mates.

We stayed at a place called Cha-cha’s Garden, which didn’t have much of a garden but did have a tortoise. The Garden was operated by a young English woman named Rani and her husband, Cha-Cha (uncle). Rani is the daughter of some of Mark’s friends and he had never met her before, so this connection was quite interesting. The Garden wasn’t much to speak of, but it provide a near-by place to walk through the town of Pushkar to the camels.

In getting into the town one had to walk for about five minutes down some narrow streets and when one arose from this it opened up into this splash of colors, sites, sounds, smells and so many people. I couldn’t wait to get to this place which took me back, I felt in history. It’s difficult to describe the scene but I took many pictures to allow me to retrace this for years to come.

The colors are so amazing to me, mostly in women’s saris and everyone was dressed in their best for doing praying in the mostly dried up lake. The Indian culture offers so many examples of religion and how it is celebrated. That is mostly what it is about, the celebrations, with young children and adults also looking like Krishna and Hunaman.

The markets continue to offer me the kind of thing that doesn’t happen in the developed world, i.e. a way of shopping that is in no way contrived. It is just the way in which fruits and vegetables are purchased, that is it, very simple, but in fact woven with relationships, the fabric of which makes the so called developing world so wonderful to be a part of. It started for me with the woman who didn’t want me to take her picture while she sold her veggies and even picked up a weight as if she would throw it at me. As the days went on she smiled at me, but didn’t allow me to take her picture.

The camels were just beautiful. I’ve never been so close to so many camels and they are beautiful creatures, definitely reminding me of the, I think second Star Wars movie with those big white things that the Empire guys operated. The camels are important to the many herders in and around Pushkar, but unfortunately many of the camel owners can no longer afford these “beasts of burden” and so they are just abandoned. This is the vicious cycle that farmers get into and can never get out, except through in many cases, suicide.

There were also the gypsies who grabbed our hands and wanted to put henna on them and would not let go until we gave them rupies. We all caught onto this very quickly and refused to give our hands. The gypsy women were just beautiful and their dancing was full of lots of writhing about, but they were dangerous like some of the baskets which held cobras.

I feel so very blessed to have made it to Pushkar to see India. I know that it is all changing, there are many shops that appeal to westerners, but the city maintained much of its more traditional charm. Incredible India.

Festivals

I’ve discovered a whole new world of music through Samy’s indie rock playlist Autumn 2009. Groups such as +/-, Paper Route, Former Child Stars, Seamus and I realize how much I continue love music, especially new music, and could never live without it. A continuing passion to add to basketball, farmers markets and living an extraordinary life.

This past weekend has been loads of fun as we are now into the festival season in India. I started out Friday evening by going to the American Embassy School, to see a performance of my most very favorite play in the world, “Our Town”. Yes, I’ve seen this play performed numerous times, watched videos of performances and read the play so many times, that I do know a lot of the script. (I once performed one of the monologues in an acting class). However to see this performed in India, with a diverse cast of children from all over the world, made it quite special. For example, George Gibbs was played by an Indian student, the milk man was instead a milk woman named Rosie and the Stage Manager, instead of being one person was performed by three people, two female students and an Indian student with a British accent. At first I thought what is this, but as I got used to it, I thought how brilliant.

I love this play because although it is about a “simpler” time in the United States, the early 1900’s, it still maintains relevance today. The fact that we’re always rushing around and don’t truly look “hard” enough at life and really see one another, the fact that much of the time we suffer and don’t truly enjoy what we’ve been given. I most love one of the last monologues by the stage manager about how there’s something eternal in our bones, but we don’t take it out and look at it very often and don’t even realize it. The young woman who performed this was just great, very comfortable in her body and with being on stage.

My Saturday was not a typical basketball Saturday as there was a tournament going on at both the American Embassy School, where I play and at the YMCA where I coach. I ended up going to the New Delhi Railway Station to buy some tickets for my friends Cindy, Melissa and I so that we can go to the Pushkar Camel Festival at the end of October. It’s always an adventure to go the train station and fortunately they have a special section for International people to buy tickets. Although I was told that I couldn’t buy the tickets for all of us, because I didn’t have everyone’s passport, the man at the greeting desk said I’ll do you a special favor and let you buy the tickets and then present your passports on the train. The person that I actually purchased the tickets from didn’t seem at all bothered by this, so I really wonder, but that is India.

The train stations in India are just a mass of people and at some point I need to take pictures. People everywhere, sleeping, talking, eating, seems unorganized but like other things in India it all seems to work.

In the evening I went to Chitra’s, a National Trust volunteer, for some song, company and food. It’s so lovely to be invited to the home of an Indian, perfect hosts. I spoke with the children of another guest and recruited them to come to the YMCA for basketball. It’s so special when I can mix my b-ball passion in with interest in just learning and absorbing Indian culture. Chitra’s husband is a phenomenal origami maker and he had made an elephant, dog, etc. which I thought were made of clay-unbelievable. My colleagues Allan and Margaret from the UK were also in attendance and Allan sang a song and Margaret played a keyboard.

On Sunday I went to Dellihut which is one of the treasures of New Delhi. It is owned by the Indian government and every few weeks a new group of crafters come in to display and sell their wares. This next few weeks many of the crafters are from NGOs that fall under the Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment who I work for. The products are just outstanding, beautiful and although some of it is repetitive the majority consist of items that one wants to take home. It’s so difficult for me because I do own many of the things that I would buy again, but those things are in storage at my friend’s house in Connecticut.

The evening consisted of cultural performances from mainly children who have a number of disabilities. At National Trust we talk about “discoverabilities” and these children certainly showed that through music, dance and theatre. There was one little boy with, maybe club feet, not entirely sure, but he just stole the show with his dancing, couldn’t stand still, another young man, who has an intellectual disability, donned sunglasses and was dancing like Michael Jackson. I was smiling the entire time and at the end joined them all on stage to jump around. This all helped me to be connected with the population that I’m ultimately working with, but don’t get to regularly see because of the actual work that I’m doing. So important for me to be connected though with the reality, which in this particular night was so very joyous.

Tonight is the end of a nine day holiday with the blowing up of these effigies. I can’t wait to see this as I’ve seen the actual effigies in a number of locations around Delhi. Big faces with gigantic moustaches made out of paper mache. India is so much full of celebration.

Finally, there is the love that is developing in my personal life. It’s so very sweet and loving. It’s what I’ve wanted and longed for, for a very long time. It’s growing on a daily basis and it is so very mutual. This love makes me smile and very comfortable and I’ll continue to write more about this for a long time to come.

Challeges

As I’ve noted in numerous writings, I am very much enjoying living my life in India, but there are, of course, challenges. I mean my ego wouldn’t get any pleasure if I didn’t complain a bit.

But let me just start this writing with noting that I was awakened in the middle of the night with a gecko on my back. Now, was it a dream? I don’t think so as I felt something, small, cool and lizard like on my back. How would the gecko even get into my bed is a question that I have. I think that after I realized that it was on my back it moved to another part of my bed. Anyway, not sure how much sleep I got after that. I do like geckos because they eat mosquitoes and there might have possibly been one or many on my back. But in the middle of the night, please let me sleep. And then the question of whether in fact this was a gecko or some other lizard like being in my bed….Ah, India.

A bit about my challenges-there is the metro/bus, vehicles/pedestrians, internet, maybe the same kinds of frustrations that I might encounter in the western world, but besides the internet I don’t think so.

The metro/bus, vehicles/pedestrians is tied into my notion about “manners”. I am constantly being bumped, pushed aside, with not so much of a mention of “excuse me” or “sorry”. On the bus, at times, people crowded next to each other on the seats, with someone standing, deciding to squeeze in to the seats. Not at all unusual, where someone, typically a man will end up sitting on your lap.

There is something about personal space and it has become somewhat exaggerated for me by being in India. I’m very aware of it in a western sense, wanting people at times, to just back off and not squeeze so very close to my body. But Delhi, is after all one of the most populous cities in the world and I need to deal with this. But I do have my moments. I never really understood this idea of people squeezing in like sardines in a can. I now know exactly what this means when I ride the metro during rush hour.

Typically I wait for people to get off of the metro before I get on. This is not generally the case for Indians. Even though a couple of people may be getting off at a stop and the fact that the metro is incredibly crowded already, 10 more people will get on. The “sardine” concept has become based in reality.

I do my thing though in getting off at the most crowded stop, that being Rajiv Chowk, just by putting my arms straight in front of me when I get off of the metro and politely saying excuse me, excuse me, excuse me. This seems to work as people are a bit “freaked out” by this “western” guy looking rather strange anyway, typically wearing shorts and a t-shirt. It become even more of a strange scene when I’m wearing my Lakers jersey after coming back from playing b-ball. Don’t see any men wearing a “tank top” here.

There is no pedestrian right of way in India and so even if you cross in front of a car or bus, or rickshaw, which is highly unadvisable, the driver will not stop for you, unless you’re a cow. But even then, I wouldn’t want to be a cow crossing the street. I tend to be a bit more aggressive in trying to cross the road, as there are no crosswalks, but caution is advisable. As I was crossing at the major intersection in my area, known to me as Dabri crossing, I almost got smushed between and bus and a truck.

I have started using the word “Dude” quite a lot in India. You can ask my work friend Rohit about this, it’s “dude” this and “dude” that. Every time I get pushed out of the way or almost run over, I say “Dude”. I don’t know that anybody understands me, but it all seems appropriate given that my roots are based in the San Fernando Valley and I am after all a “Valley Boy” but without the blond locks or surfboard.

I’m so used to using what I consider to be “manners” but this is in a western sense. I get somewhat annoyed when I don’t find “manners” used, but am pleasantly surprised when I do hear that “excuse me” on the metro in order to move around as opposed to being bumped by generally a man with a rather rotund belly and orange hair. The orange hair is supposed to keep the heat down, with the belly most generally used for clearing space for one’s self. I don’t think that I’ll ever get to the point of wanting either for myself, but stuffing pillows under my shirt, might make some sense, especially when I’m feeling somewhat sardine like.

I don’t really like the fact that men seated on metro or the bus won’t get up for women, either with or without children, when they are standing. There is something inherently wrong with this. I don’t think that it is chauvinism on my part, but I was brought up to give up my seat and I constantly do this, hoping that the Indian men will see this and do the same. I was recently on one of the smaller buses and three men were sitting and a number of women got on. I asked the men to get up and they wouldn’t. However, this was balanced by this last week when riding the metro I noted to a man to get up and there was no problem. In fact, a very nice conversation ensued in which he told me how much respect he has for the elderly and of course he always gets up, because that woman who is standing could be his mother. This was what I thought India would be more about.

But there also is a certain sense of that insanely needing to rush around, like in the west. I try to always take my time and not rush especially when getting on and off the metro, but I find all around me people rushing. In getting on the metro one has to go through a security check, one for men and one for women. Often men will just cut in front of me, like it really is going to make a difference in how quickly one gets onto the metro. For some reason this bothers me, and I say “dude” and then it is gone.

Not having grown up with so many people all around me, I somewhat lack this “what do I need to do to get ahead”, no matter how miniscule it might be. Maybe that cutting in front of me, or just ignoring the fact that there is another human being in front of you doesn’t matter in this case. It’s not that I’m not assertive, because I’ve certainly become more assertive since coming to India, but I don’t see the point from my western way of thinking of pushing or cutting to get one’s way. (One time though a man cut in front of me in the metro line and I told him that there was a line where he proceeded to laugh. I then cut directly in front of him without looking back. Yes, I do have my moments).

I’m certainly looking forward to being in other parts of India. Maybe it will be different, maybe not. It all is a major learning experience for me, in that “my way” is certainly not the only way. But I knew this coming to India and knew that I wanted to learn more about other ways of looking at the world.

I still love India and always will. The aliveness is just something that I don’t think I’ll see in the west. The things that I’m seeing and experiencing here are truly remarkable, just the everyday kinds of things, which I can see in my pictures. Galoo and Namu, the two little girls in the house where I’m living, talking to me in Hindi, and thinking that I’m understanding, and now in some English will be something that I will always treasure. I’ve come to “love” this children, their way of saying “Mike”, juice, their laugh. To think that this “world” never would have happened for me if I hadn’t dreamed about and really wanted it.

Experiencing the Indian culture is a wonderful thing for me. It is so very foreign from what I knew as a boy growing up in the San Fernando Valley. When I moved to the east coast of the US as a 22 year old, this had a foreign feel for me, but nothing like living in a place such as India. My life is so much more rich now that I’ve been here for six months and I look forward to the next 18 months with so much awe and especially love for the country, the people, the dust, the cows and smells.

I also look forward to a growing love in my personal life, but that will have to wait for the next blog!

Almost 6 months in India

September 6, 2009
I truly can’t believe that mid-September will mark six months for me living in New Delhi. Time just seems to pass so rapidly, although I’m living every day the fullest and maybe that is exactly the reason. The magic continues to occur, as I’m now growing a watermelon out of my Ashoka tree. How this happened I’m not really sure, but one day a vine appeared and soon there was a watermelon. I know that I do spit out my watermelon seeds all over my deck and so a few must have landed in the Ashoka tree pot. Regardless, I just can’t wait to taste this baby melon. (This takes me back to Lancaster, PA when I worked in the fields of Ruth and Wilmer, Mennonite farmers, Ruth being about 59 and Wilmer 70. As I worked out in the, what at that time I thought was really hot sun, they taught me how to spot a ripened watermelon). With the growth of my melon, I’ve thrown some potatoes, okra and peas into the pot, so let’s see what else grows.

I recently met with an Indian filmmaker, who is making a film about ex-pats. I’m not sure whether she’ll want me to be in the film, but one of the questions that she asked was, “Why do you love India?” To me, this question is rhetorical, like when someone asks me about my love for basketball, it’s just very obvious and doesn’t really need an answer.
To someone who lives in the same country for most of their life, thought, maybe it’s not so obvious. After all, the amount of traffic and people and pollution, etc., in Delhi is so oppressive, one might ask why would anyone want to live in India, much less love India.

I walked out my front door to get some medications at my local chemist, but it’s not the same type of walk that one might make in the States, and the prices are certainly not nearly the same as in the States. Yes, people do recognize me now and so there are many hello’s, but it’s nothing like one sees in the “sanitary” streets at “home”. (I’m truly not quite sure where home acutally is anymore but in the present it is definitely New Delhi). It’s difficult to actually describe, unless you’re here. You can see pictures, but until you are in the midst of it, seeing so many people, doing so many different things, most with huge smiles on their faces at the site of a foreigner, you can’t truly appreciate this.

After purchasing my medications and waving hello to the local shoe repair dude, I walked towards my local Reliance “supermarket”. I decided today to walk down a side street, as I saw lots of signs, indicating shops and people. As I walked down the street, or alley, my camera immediately came out to take pics of the people. The sites are still remarkable to me, but it’s the people that I’m so enthralled with. As I walked down one street and started snapping, people came out of their houses and indicated that they wanted to be photographed as well. I can’t imagine a foreigner in the US asking people to pose for pics. I just can’t imagine so many people being outside of their homes in the US. Well, maybe in smaller towns, but I can’t imagine it being anything like India.

It’s definitely the people from the very young, who sometimes seems to be a bit afraid of me, to the, what appears to be very old men, in their turbans, to the young women, on their 50 year old sewing machines to the women in their multi-colored saris. I’m not quite sure what they make of me, because many just don’t speak English and I only, Mei todhi Hindi bolte hu. (I only speak a little Hindi). I guess though that it doesn’t quite matter as there is a communication that is done through so much smiling.

But there is also the basketball stuff. Yeah, I could be playing wherever I live and of course I would be, but where would I be able to play with Indians, French and Congolese dudes, a 6’8” Australian gus, Eastern Europeans who are constantly speaking to each other in Serbian, an American named Moosa who has the deepest voice in the world and works for the World Bank and an American doctor who spends time in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Maybe I’m exaggerating and could find this kind of game on a playground in Orange County, CA, possibly as it is fairly diverse, but I don’t think so. And where could I be teaching Indian children how to meditate?

Ok, so that maybe is going a bit too far, but last night at the YMCA this is exactly what I was doing. It was a small group, 15 children and I asked how many of them had ever meditated. None raised their hands and I said, in order to be present, to just focus on basketball, we are going to meditate. This is exactly what we did, after stretching and talking about how basketball is about life, a short meditation. I even told the kids about Phil Jackson and how he uses meditation. I have to say that this was a magical moment for me as I walked around looking at the children in a very peaceful state. I was amazed. I get chills now just writing about last night.

We have so much fun and the children are always laughing with me. They are continuing to “get” what I’m trying to teach, there was actually a “give and go” last night run so perfectly that it could have been a highlight on ESPN. I stopped the game and was jumping up and down and cheering as the children just cracked up. But I can so much be “me” in India.

A silly concept, “me”. I’m reading about this in Eckhart’s Tolle’s most recent book “A New Earth”. Yes, it’s this “silly new age” stuff, which makes so much sense to me. But yes, this me is feeling so, at home in India. Here is the picture though-I’m getting off the metro, in that famous Rajiv Chowk place where nobody will let you off. I wink at the Indian guys next to me waiting to get off. The doors open, I put my arms out in front of me and just say excuse me in rapid fire statements until I’m totally clear and not one person has touched me. The “guards” dressed in orange vests, who are supposed to be helping people get off, just smile as I wave good-bye, mission accomplished.

It doesn’t take much for me to be in “love” because I’m constantly working on being present. I know I shouldn’t be working but…this is India and I say why not, what else will grow?

Building partnerwebs from oceans and trees

The new batch of volunteers has arrived. It makes me wonder what I was like when I first arrived. I met them last night for dinner in a place called Defense Colony. Had a wonderful Thai meal with tofu!

My work colleagues have really warmed up to me and I seem to be one of the group as I’m working with a number of them on numerous projects. We all seem to be able to laugh together, overcoming any cultural differences. I eat lunch as often as possible with a group of 5 or 6 people, mainly women, all of us sharing the food that we brought from home. This makes it possible for me to continue to eat a variety of home cooked Indian food, which I do truly treasure. Onky was visiting this past weekend and so I had a number of home cooked meals at his Aunt and Uncle’s house, which is always awesome!

I know that I’ve become much more assertive in India and I think that this will be beneficial to me wherever I end up next. This is not in any sense a mean assertiveness, but more of a, “I’m not going to be pushed around”. You just have to whether it’s dealing with the drivers or getting out of the metro at Rajiv Chowk, getting onto a bus, walking home from Dabri crossing. You just do it or else you get pushed aside. Now, of course there are times, such as when I get on the metro, when I just wait for the mass of people to come out before I get on. This makes sense to me, as opposed to trying to push my way onto to the metro when masses of people are getting off.

Let me say a few words about the auto rickshaw drivers. Because I don’t look Indian, my general assumption is that the price that I will be quoted will always be at least double. Yes, one can ask to use the meter, but often the meter “is not working”. This, of course, is illegal, but with the number of autos in India, this cannot readily be enforced. I use the autos all of the time because the metro is not as extensive as it will be by the end of 2010. I typically take the metro to a stop called “Central Secretariat” and then find an auto. Now if one is in a tourist location, such as Dellihut, one can be prepared for the price to be even more exorbitant.

I used to bargain very “nicely” and this often worked. But now if I am quoted a very high price I very forcefully look the auto driver in the eye and tell him that I do live here and that his price is way out of line. I also tell them that it is not nice to charge so much. Do they understand what I’m saying? Most likely not, but I think that they get the fact that I am somewhat angry about this. Of course, this is very temporary, maybe a show, because I always laugh to myself after this. Never-the-less, I’m done taking nonsense from these guys. But, of course last night the auto driver told me that he was charging the night fee, because it was 10:30 or. I paid 50% above the meter price and he still wanted more. I’m also coming just to pay the guys and walk away even if they want more.

I continually have to remind myself that I’ve only been here since mid-March in the sense that I expect things to be further developed for me in terms of new friends. It is happening, as I become more assertive. One of my new friends Monique recently brought me to dinner at some of her embassy friends. I literally thought that I wasn’t in India given the house and the dinner menu-lasagna, cheesecake, salad, French bread. Of course one can get all of these things in India but as a volunteer I don’t generally look for or see this stuff. It is a very different life, but we are all doing development work from different perspectives.

It will be quite interesting for me to see more of this as I stay here longer, i.e. the differences between VSO or my own type of development work, and as an example, the American government. I can be very creative in my job, have no real script to attune to as I’m building capacity. There is no real party line except that of helping out the NGOs that we partner with. For example I can ask the people that I will be teaching to “create a universe” in thinking about a case statement for a fundraising plan or ask them to draw “monsters” for the threats to their agency as part of a S(trengths) W(eaknesses) O(pportunities) T(hreats) analysis. It will be fun and hopefully they will learn, building organizational capacity.

I’m guided by a humanness, a wanting to connect to others through work fun. There is also the entire other side, of me learning so much from these people who have opened up their hearts and their head to what I might offer. It is so much fun for me, just to be in this environment and I’m loving each day, as they seem to pass so very quickly, no matter what I’m doing.

Last week I was able to do a workshop for the National Trust staff and they were laughing and really enjoying themselves as they drew rock and fishes and birds and trees. While they were having fun and they were also able to talk about what was going on their work lives, which is what I was trying to get to. I now have a better understanding of what individual employees are doing and some of their concerns.

This next week I’m leading a workshop called, “Building partnerwebs from the ocean and trees”. Oh and don’t forget the “Networking Jungle”, down at the waterhole, of course. What does this all mean-it mean taking dust, rain, cows, swimming pigs, kites, mangoes, lot of flies, more dust, mud, smiling faces, lots of sweat and lots of water, basketballs and lots of fun and creating an entirely different world. It’s not fantasy, it’s India. .

Love for the Game/Love for Life

Is it possible to "love" something other than a person so much, that one just cannot wait to be doing it? It is and it has happened for me with basketball in every aspect of the game. It just so happens that this "love affair" with basketball has blossomed, in of all places, New Delhi, India. It started with a connection to the American Embassy and the YMCA, both in New Delhi, and has grown by leaps and bounds into a full fledged "love affair". The feeling that I get from b-ball is pure joy, at all times, nothing less, total focus on the beauty of the game, and therefore there is nothing else, when I'm involved with it.

Strange? No, not really. It is all about the dance, the team work, the knowledge of the five people on the court and those on the bench being so connected that they could close their eyes and make a perfect pass to a teammate for a layup. It is about the joy of understanding how this is more than a game, how this is a lifestyle. Do we live as individuals? Yes, at times, but more often we live as part of a team, as part of a community. A well executed fast-break or a pass in the triangle offense that leads to two points, shows how we all can cooperate with one another, in fact, it is the only way to truly get along. Yes, egos play a large part in the professional sport, but as recently demonstrated, even with the skills of a Kobe Bryant, one has to play as a team to "win", to be at the very apex.

But basketball is more than winning a championship, it is about the smiles that readily appear on the faces of the Indian children that I've been coaching at the YMCA for the past three months. When they see me, prior to starting playing, they appear with a large smile and slap me a high 5, knowing that yes, this will be tough, as I make sure that we run a bit, but also knowing that for the next 1.5 hours we are going to have some great fun. The game at the Y is about children coming out of their shells and starting to find love for a lifestyle. I actually am seeing the 7-18 year old boys and girls starting to understand the rhythym and heartbeat of the game. I spend a lot of time talking to the children, espousing my love and what they can do to stay in shape for their entire lives, about the exercise and eating right that is needed to continue to live a healthy life. They respond with "yes, sir" and I constantly remind them to call me "Mike" which some are actually starting to do.

The Indian game has a tendency towards a "one on one" type of play with the best players gettting the rebound and sizzling downcourt, with no regard to teammates. However, this past Saturday, one of the boys, who really does have the skills, was slowing it down, setting up his offense, understanding the fact that he was part of a team. I "force" the boys and girls to be on teams together, always considering gender issues. It is slowly starting to work. I "force" the children to develop leadership skills by having them form their own teams. It is not something that comes too easily, but it is happening.

I've found that I do care, that if we are to play, to love, there are so many methods to consider. All that I can do is bring my love, my passion for this sport, way of life, to a few children in New Delhi. What else can I really do as the love is just bursting forth from me and has to get out.

July 4, 2009
American independence day and I’m in New Delhi. There will be a celebration at the US Embassy and if I’m up to it, I’ll go. I’ve gotten my first real cold in India so I’m just not sure at this point. Regardless,

I’m in love with India! Why might you ask would this be the case, after all, it’s hot and humid, dusty, there is little regard to sanitation, the pollution can be overwhelming, the number of people, especially on the buses and metro, at times, is much too crowded.

These things though are all part of the magic of India. As one looks beyond the things that might be seen as negatives, one can see so much to be in love with. It can be as simple as the walk on my way home where I stop at any number of roasted corn sellers, where for the equivalent of 10 cents I can get a freshly roasted corn, smothered in salt and fresh lime. Children are the main sellers of the roasted corn, over a small, jerry rigged stove, with a few coals. The constant fanning keeps the coals hot, while the corn roaster turns the corn to make it just so.

How about the multitude of doors and windows that keep opening through my job. Every meeting that I have, every person that I meet presents another opportunity for me. I never felt this way in the States, but maybe I wasn’t as conscious of this. I constantly talk about partnerships and others shake their head yes. Maybe there is some caution, but through my persistent nature, I’m getting people to sit down together and dialogue. I wanted a challenge, a job where I could help to make an impact, something on an international level. This job is proving to be all that I had hoped. It is so much helped by my two bosses, who have been so incredibly supported, so open to seeing the possibilities. I love my colleagues and their willingness to share their lunch with me, their willingness to help me to succeed, even though they might not totally understand what I’m doing. I’m so in love with my job, it is so much fun, so much work, but it is so worth it.

I’m so in love with coaching basketball at the YMCA-New Delhi. The children have totally opened up to me, laugh at my silliness, seek me out for guidance and totally ignore what I’m saying. They tell me this is the India way to play b-ball and they are not afraid to give their opinions. I’m working on trying to create leadership and getting boys and girls to be on a comparable level. I’m making some progress on both fronts, but it is slow. I’m learning more about basketball, one of my great loves in life, as I teach the children the basics. I so love when the children get something, a good bounce pass, keeping their heads up when they dribble, moving their feet on defense. I know that one day a week for me for this exercise is not enough but it will do as I feel the connections.

I love my flat and the family that owns it. They have opened up their house and their hearts to me, except for the Great Dane, Great, who refused to get to know me. The flat is so lovely and the owners just keep doing more to improve it, to make it more comfortable. I adore the children that live here, they are so incredibly fun and sweet and have gotten used to me, are no longer shy with me. In fact they will come up and hang out. Last night I was watching a download of the 2nd half of the Lakers-Magic game 5 and one of the brothers came up and just started watching with me. Whenever else could I say that I watched an NBA game on the third floor veranda of a New Delhi flat with an Indian? I love the fact that when I wash my clothes I do it in a bucket and then hang the clothes out to dry. How much less energy am I using now that I live in India? I don’t drive a car, I do use an a/c at times in the evening, but that’s about it. I’ve somehow become much more responsible in my energy consumption.

I’m in love with the little things, with the metro and the many people that I’ve met while traveling on this at times sardine like public transportation mode, with the rickshaw drivers who always try to say that their meters are not working, that they are giving me a good deal, with the cows and dogs who are omni-present, no matter where I go in Delhi, with the buildings that are always covered in dust, with the weather, which makes me sweat like I’ve never sweated before in my life, with the fresh fruits and veggies that I eat on a regular basis, keeping my body healthy. I’m in love with it all.

The Mountains and More!

So much to write about since last time. Let’s see, well there was this two week trip, first to Amritsar, site of the Golden Temple, then to Dalhousie, to Dharamshala and then back to Dalhousie. There was the coming back to the Delhi oven and the fact that the job is really becoming incredibly potent with opportunities galore. There are also the everyday things that one just doesn’t expect, stepping out of the bus from the metro into pure dust, which you can taste in your mouth, the farmers markets, at least that’s how I think of them, where I purchased three ears of “sweet corn” for 20 cents, only to find that the kernels are so damned hard that I really don’t know how to cook them, the monkeys which seem to turn up everywhere, the incredible traffic jams where everyone just goes into the intersection because the lights aren’t working and nobody moves. (I’m not kidding about this, just something you’d never see in the States).

There are also the very beautiful, helpful people, such as the Director of the Times of India Foundation, my friends Onky and Myna, their son Anant and “Big Daddy” Mohan, whose 77th birthday I was able to participate in. (Onkar’s Chacha and Chachi and cousin Karan, in Delhi have also been so very helpful to me).

Delhi is just remarkable to all of my senses. I can’t seem to get enough, except for the heat and the dust. Some of the smells and sites I could do without, but this is India, this is not the US or Europe. I am wondering more and more what other developing countries may be like. This may lead to other adventures, but I’ll take India for now.

I haven’t really mentioned my VSO friend, my in-country family members who just all keep me going, when it does get challenging. My colleague Allan, from Scotland, kept me informed while I was away and he always has a good yarn to tell, about him and his wife Margaret’s travels all over the world. This is their third VSO experience, having spent time in both Gambia and Cambodia, as well as I think everywhere else in the world. I could sit and listen for years. I so admire the two of them. My mate Mary, from the UK, who recently told me how happy she is to be in India, which made me think, “Why in the hell am I complaining about the heat?” My dear, dear friend Mark, who is living in Barmar where it is at least 50 C everyday, who just goes about his business without any complaints. A great male friend. My compatriot from the US, Judith, who is in Kolkata, an incredibly bright woman who I’ve started having lots of e-mail conversations with. There is also Verona from the Philippines who I’ve been chatting with on Facebook. Of course, there is also Joe, the 20 year old musician from the UK, who is in Jaipur, who everyone just adores. There is Louise from Scotland, who is in Surat, who I talk to on a very regular basis, either on the phone, or more often through SKYPE, and who is coming for a visit very soon.

There are also other VSO friends who have not gone on their assignments yet, but who I can converse with-Lisa, Lynley and Nathalie. There’s also my Indian VSO friend Jora who is in Guyana. My world has been so expanded by all of these amazing people, who so very recently, I didn’t know even exited. They, of course, each have their own stories, their own motivations for being in India or in other places, but they are all remarkable in their own right. The doors and possibilities just keep appearing and opening up and all that I had to do was put a lot of intent out into the universe. It does actually work!

Of course, because of SKYPE and Facebook, I can talk to all of my good friends and family, on a regular basis. This also sustains me. I talk to my dad about sports almost everyday and of course, because the Lakers are about to become champs we can share this without any problems. I also talk to my son Daniel on a regular basis. and my dear friends Michael, Mark, who is my cousin, but also a dear friend, Cindy, Terrie and others almost everyday. Through e-mails I know what is happening and am in connection, which is so very helpful to me. Last night I was in four or so conversations on Facebook and it was truly wonderful. I

I’m doing what I can to make connections in India, to provide a support network for myself. I’m trying to start a Men’s Group, looking forward to starting b-ball again in August, will look at going to a July 4th celebration at the Embassy. I try to be as open as possible and meet people.

I have this wonderful family who has taken me in. I just cannot believe how fortunate I’ve been to land in the Tyagi home. They are all so incredibly sweet and I feel quite loved. There are 13 of them living on the first two floors, three generations of people. I also have a roommate, Joel, another American who is a bright, young journalist. An intrepid explorer who is doing amazing work.

Here is an example of how wonderful this is becoming. There are five family members in my apartment right now from 9 year old Bol-bol to 40 something year old Aneal, the oldest brother. All three of the brothers are here and there is one cousin and one friend. Joel, my roommate is here as well. We are all gathered around a carom’s table, which they play with their fingers and there is quite a lively game happening with a wager for dinner. Suresh, also know as Sam, the man who helped me to get into this apartment, made fresh pakoras-potato, paneer with almonds, onions, something like tempura, except a bit heavier. We’re all just sitting around having one nice time. I even drank a little bit of beer. Will wonders never cease?

I’ve been watching the house across from me being built and it is just remarkable to see the structure going up. I’m feeling more part of this all with the family helping out a great deal, even though they may not be aware of this.

Yesterday, Aneal, Bol-bol, her sister known as Dede and their aunt and I drove to the YMCA where I went swimming, Aneal and Dede are taking swimming lessons, and I coached some b-ball. After 15 minutes of coaching however, the skies opened up and that was the end of it, my first pre-monsoon rainstorm. On the way back the aunt drove, she is 25 and just learning, and did remarkably well. I’m kind of getting up the courage to try myself, although it is driving on the right and there seem to be no rules. Hmmm… let’s see.

Ah yes, the mountains. My friends Onky and Myna have this amazing family home in Dalhousie. Mohan built this in the early 70’s and it is known as a cottage. More recently Onky and Myna built a cottage which they rent out, which is adjacent and below the main cottage. (Yes, I didn’t mention the Golden Temple in Amritsar, because my train was late and I was so tired, that I just fell asleep after visiting some family members. Yes, I will go back as Myna’s parents live in Amritsar).

Dalhousie was so very cool, temperature wise as it is quite high, full of forests, trekking paths, many, many good people, on some level reminding me of The Great Gatsby, with parties every night. We hiked to this amazing Temple the second weekend that I was in Dalhousie and I really just could not believe the beauty, wild daisies literally growing everywhere, dotting the mountainsides, looking like snow, with puffs of yellow sticking out. Of course there was actual snow on the distant, quite majestic peaks. One of the most exciting things for me was walking down the path into a goatherd. I just stood in the middle of the herd as they rolled past me. I made a movie of this event and will not ever forget this. We walked to the top of a mountainside and ate a luscious breakfast. It was so very peaceful and just full of what I want life to be.

The food in Dalhousie was the very best as the Kakar’s cook is one incredible man. To be waited on once in a while, is also just so very nice, although I wonder if I could get used to this. Ok, we all get the picture, one wonderful experience.

Mohan’s birthday was a special affair. In the morning we all went to the smaller cottage where some family friends were staying and where a puja was conducted. This is a prayer service conducted in Hindi, with so very much meaning. In India, because of the culture, these types of ceremonies happen all of the time. This is another thing that I will never forget and became the official family photographer and movie maker of the entire event. At the end of the ceremony we all threw flower petals at Mohan and he reveled in the moment. Magical!

In the afternoon we had a huge party for all of those “Great Gatsbyites” in Dalhousie and I was a bartender! Surprising because I don’t drink but the Dalhousieites do, so I learned about mixed drinks. It was all in good fun. But the somewhat surprising thing is that Mohan purchased so many blankets for the poor and in front of the lower cottage we fed the poor and servants. It was just so great and of course I went down and helped to feed those with less and just sat. One of the upper party members said to me upon leaving, “We should have done that.” Hopefully he will remember for next year, but I will make a point of reminding people next year.

The other great part about being in the State of Himachel Pradesh was that I was able to go to Dharamshala and spend a week with one of the National Trust partner NGO’s Chinmaya Organization for Rural Development (CORD), http://www.rural-development.ca/. . I was able to go to some very rural villages, as CORD is involved in over 550 throughout Kangra District. They are doing remarkable integrated rural development work, teaching people about empowerment, getting people into health care, teaching others how to supplement their incomes. I saw an all female group talking about the issue of female infanticide and then went to two schools, where disabled children are mainstreamed. If you want to volunteer in India, this is an NGO that is so worthwhile. Besides, the accommodations and food were great and the setting beyond amazing. I would walk about 10 minutes into an agricultural field and just watch, with these enormous snow covered mountain peaks in the background and people tending their fields, in the very traditional way in the foreground. If you want peace, this is it.

Yes, I’m continuing to enjoy India, even with the power ‘black-outs”, the intense heat, the dust, the over crowded conditions and extreme poverty. The fact remains though that the connections that I’m starting to make will ultimately sustain me to do good work and to learn so much about a culture that is so very different from anything that I’ve ever known.

Train to Amritsar

I feel that I’m by far one of the most fortunate people on this planet. I’m entirely not sure which planet that might be, because I feel as if I’m on a different planet than where I’ve been living, but never-the-less. I sit on a train bound for Amritsar, on my way to Dalhousie and Dharamsala for about 11 days, looking out at the Indian countryside, green, thatched huts. Earlier leaving Delhi, I saw lots of garbage, pigs, people squatting, but now farmland and a breath of fresh air.

During the past week I was feeling quite anxious and it was very difficult, but after a talk with my son and a friend, things started falling into place again. (I’m seeing mounds of cow dung, water buffalo, a few buildings, some still being constructed, others that will just sit and become ghosts) I co-facilitated a workshop for VSO India staff with my mate Mary from the UK. It was quite fun and we even put in a basketball exercise. It’s so incredibly enjoyable to be as creative as possible, so much more fun than the usual. (We’re stopping at a station and people are walking all over the tracks, waiting to get onto their train. An Indian man sat down next to me, he had just travelled to Iran for business. Oh the people you will meet and the things that you will see).

I was in Bhopal and Ujaan recently to do my first co-facilitated workshop. Went with my mates Allan and Margaret from the UK. We stayed in a place called the SOS Village which are actually set up around the world. The concept is that abandoned/orphaned children with disability are brought to the Village to live in a family environment. There are groupings of houses with six children and a “mother” and “auntie” living in the homes with the children. Of course, I found a b-ball court and played a bit of b-ball with a number of the boys, as the girls have a separate play area. Given the mix of disability though I ended up doing great circle games, holding hands, with the boys. There was lots of laughing. One boy was in a wheelchair and he participated in everything which was so good for my heart.

I made my first cultural faux-paux at the Village, by putting on my bathing suit and walking through some sprinklers shirtless. (I’m seeing these brick huts and a number of brick making factories). I was told by one of the administrators that the females were quite uncomfortable. I apologized profusely to this administrator and the director and they said don’t worry about it. I need to remember to be a bit more cautious when I’m out in the “countryside”.

Ujaan was magical as we stayed at an ashram, where abandoned people are brought. Upon arriving at Ujaan we went to hospital to visit a client who was pregnant. Apparently she also had a mental disorder. This was at about 7 PM and by 11 AM the next morning the client was back at the Ashram with a baby girl. She wasn’t allowed to stay at the hospital because of her apparent mental condition. The ashram was really in a very rural environment and we ate on a rooftop, a scrumptious meal and slept outside. Absolutely the magic of India at its very best. The next morning we toured the facility and one could see the happiness from having a place to live but also the sadness of living with a mental disorder.

How does one actually put into words the magic that is all around us? We try but there is also something unworldly, at least through my filters, in it all. Something well beyond words, when one’s world is totally turned upside down and what one thought was the “way” of doing things is absolutely not. (I’m also watching the Lakers-Nuggets score on MSN.com, 76-76 after three quarters).

Delhi is a place where one can ride an incredibly modern metro, but when one comes out at the New Delhi stop to go to the train, one sees a mass of people crouched, sitting on the ground, sleeping at the station, not necessarily modern trains. It makes me pause and wonder how did this all get built? Is it really possible given the construction methods? (The metro of course) A house is being built across the street from me and it is just so surprising to see it go up. There is a work crew consisting of both men and women in saris and it is just remarkable, but it is, in fact going up.

I love the fact though that I can see, smell and feel all of this. I don’t really like the heat and the dust, but I share this with so many others. (I’m seeing these large mounds of straw with large mounds of dung next to them and people are actually using tractors, women in saris picking something, the thatched huts where the workers most likely live).

I’m doing my very best to connect with others, trying to start a Men’s Group, and yes there are commonalities, we’re all human, but we are also so very different. The diversity that I’m finding is in some ways similar to what I’ve experienced with others in the US, but here I am the foreigner, a lot of the time not understanding what is being said to me, especially by the young girls who live downstairs from me. They know my name now, call me Mike, but then I don’t necessarily know what they are saying, although they do make themselves clear about what they want to eat out of my refrigerator.

I feel that India is really just whetting my appetite for seeing more of the world, but not just seeing, truly experiencing. I think that India will open up so many more opportunities for me. In a way it’s too bad that I didn’t start this when I was younger, but I was doing other things that seemed very important. I have no regrets about what I’ve done in my past, although I know that I’ve hurt others, which was never my intention. But now I have this entirely new world opening up. (Lakers won and I’m seeing fields and fields of sunflowers-the unexpected).

What will this new world bring? So hard to say and know, but everyday seems to create a new opportunity, a new way of seeing things , of just being. (The sunflowers are just spectacular). Nothing is done by rote, it’s all about creativity, shedding the past and making the future, but truly being right in the moment.

India, sweet India.

Some rantings

May 10, 2009
It’s Mother’s Day in India, I guess, at least I saw some commercials on the television indicating that this was the case. Maybe it is, maybe not.

There is a lot of action in the house that I’m living in. A baby naming will take place today, so lot’s of commotion, people in my apartment who I don’t really know. Privacy seems to have very different meanings in India, than what I’m used to. Not that I shut my door and that is it for the rest of the world, because I have left my door open and my neighbors walk in and out, especially the children who grab my basketball and dribble. But this seems to be a bit much.

There is a great deal of curiosity about foreigners, no doubt about this. I still get my fair share of stares when I’m out in public. The tut-tut, three wheel drivers, some at least, laugh at me when I tell them that it is illegal not to use their meters. But, I’ll keep trying and threatening. There are those who laugh when I say, “stop pushing and let me out of the metro”. On some level, I’m becoming part of the fabric, but on another level I keep my very western ways to myself and try to tell others about them, through, what I consider to be my “polite” way of dealing with others. But as I know not everyone shares this and why should they?

Privacy is another matter in India. With extended families living with one another, there appears to be little of the western privacy. It’s not unusual at this point, for people just to come into my apartment. On some level, I’m just part of the family, but on another level, I want people to respect my privacy.

My music, loaded on my laptop, has kept me sane. I’m so glad that I can hear these sounds that remind me of the United States. Yes, I suppose that I’m coming to appreciate the comfort of my home country. But that is what part of this exploration is about. Of course, I’ve met some wonderful people in India and have found a great b-ball game, and am making a life for myself, but it still seems quite foreign. I don’t really understand Hindi and certainly don’t speak it well enough to communicate with many people. The heat is definitely exhausting and I am a stranger.

I see the same moon that we all see, but somehow it’s different. I realize that all of this takes time to become used to. When I think about how we all share the same planet, it is certainly quite mind boggling. I can still listen to a Lakers-Rockets game, but it is the morning instead of the evening and I have a gas stove to cook on and people just don’t look like me.

But then I think about the tremendous opportunity that I have in my work life, something, I don’t necessarily feel that I would have received in the U.S. Yes, I’ve made impacts throughout my life, but nothing like I feel that I can make here and that feels pretty good. I’ll be travelling a lot in my job, starting with one week in Bhopal on Monday. I’ll be going with some colleagues and we’ll be giving a capacity building, fundraising workshop.

Of course, it all remains a challenge especially the heat. At times, I’m not gravely impacted by it, but at other times I can really feel it. I also know that I’ve lost a bit of weight, but am hungry quite a bit, so am confident that I’ll gain this back, most likely during the winter, which I’m looking forward to. Of course I don’t want to wish away any of the time that I’m here, want to enjoy it all no matter how challenging it may be.

I do like the surprise of it all though, because I never do quite know what I’ll be seeing. Walking home from the bus, I’ll see some weddings with great celebration, lots of noise, live music, fireworks, just walking down the side of the road. I really can’t ever walk home without there being lots of people, noise, animals, dust. Yes, the surprise of it all truly keeps one alive and that is what India is about, staying alive.

I’m wondering if this is also possibly the case in other “developing” countries. Life and death for that matter are so prevalent that one can’t help but live a full life with many celebrations no matter what socio-economic level one is at. Something to ponder and find out more about.

Life is just a gigantic classroom and there are teachers everywhere one looks and even if one doesn’t look. It’s a matter of keeping one’s mind open and to always be aware of the doors that keep turning up. It is something like Alice in Wonderland, with things appearing, but why not slide down the rabbit hole? Why not walk through the fences that we put up around us? It’s all there. So why not?

Some notes about Democrats and Basketball

On Friday night I went to a foreign democrats meeting held at a beautiful hotel in New Delhi. The occasion was an analysis of the first 100 days of the big “O” conducted by a panel consisting of a UK NPR reporter, a BBC correspondent, a Time magazine writer and a reporter from the Hindustani Times. The food was quite good, top quality, 5 star hotel kind of stuff.

It was a very stimulating evening. I met a number of Americans, including one young lady from New York. Clara is here doing an internship with dalits/women’s rights and will be returning to the States in June in order to attend law school at Fordham, University of Michigan or Columbia.

I started talking about my love of markets and Clara smiled and asked me if I knew of a farm called Cato Corners in southeastern CT. Of course given my work in southeastern CT I did know of Cato Corners. Clara had been working summers at one of their farm stands in Brooklyn and was hoping to go back this summer and do the same.

This points up the smallness of the world. How I can be literally half way around the world from my home state of California, or Connecticut for that matter, and talk about someone that we both know, even though I had never met Clara before.

Would I have ever met Clara in the States, most likely not, but I met her in New Delhi. Will I ever see Clara again in my life, most likely not, although given the magic of the universe, maybe. But, that is not the point. The rather strangeness of it all, but yet naturalness, is something that certainly warrants some thinking about.

Another person at the democratic affair told me about how he recently read an article in a local newspaper describing how a three year old in India insisted on going to a village and talking to his “wife”. He then proceeded to talk all about his life with her. The individual that I was talking to told me that he now believed in this kind of stuff, i.e. I assume some type of reincarnation.

Are we meant to connect with specific people on our life journey, and have we seen these “souls” before? It brings up an interesting question, whether life is somehow “programmed” or whether we are all just free spirits making things happen as they will.

I’m not really sure about this, as I would hope to have a lot of free will, to determine what happens, but of course, we all have certain doors that we can choose to see and knock on, enter or keep closed. We can place ourselves in situations that seem far beyond any fences that we’ve posted for ourselves. We can seek to go well beyond our fears and truly live extraordinary lives and meet someone like “Clara”, who we may not meet in our home countries, although she is from our home country.

Here’s the entirely other piece as basketball, and my passion for this sport, continues to be prevalent no matter where I go. (And why wouldn't there be a connection given the big "O's" playing of b-ball) It turns out that the Delhi Democrats Chair is the Boys Basketball Coach at the American Embassy School (AES). Once we got onto this he told me that he might possibly have an opening for an Assistant Coach. Sam introduced me to JD Walsh http://jdbasketball.com/, a 6’8”, former University of Maryland basketball player, who now runs coaching camps for children all over the world, including Palestinian and Israeli children.

On Saturday I went to the AES for my noon basketball game. Upon arriving there was JD doing a basketball camp. He actually ended up playing with us for a few minutes and I was able to try to guard him on once occasion. After leaving the AES, I went to the YMCA, where I was able to swim and then coach.

This was the third Saturday that I’ve been able to coach around 40 children in basketball. The head coach is a wonderful man and is allowing me to really help the children. Typically I run a few drills and then get to spend some focused time with the girls and younger boys.

Being aware of gender issues I was able to divide the children up into five groups in order to do some stretching. I left it to each group to decide who to put in the middle to lead the stretching. I noticed that there were only boys leading. I then asked the groups to change leaders and stated clearly that they must be led by girls. After some hesitation all girls were leading the stretching. A small thing, but nonetheless a way to start breaking down gender barriers. I’m very sensitive to this entire issue, thanks to my life experience and a VSO focus, but I feel that I can subtlety, though very concretely, do something about this through basketball.

There is also the guy on the Delhi list-serve Yuni-net, who recently sent out an e-mail about wanting to watch some of the playoff games with others! He is a Boston Celtics fan, no matter, it would be fun to connect with other NBA types.

I’m intent on making basketball more a part of how I live my life, a team approach, a teaching and learning experience, a dance that brings people together to not only like one another, but to also respect and love one another. It is all amazing stuff and can happen by walking through doors at posh hotels in New Delhi in order to realize how great the big “O” really is.

Some notes about Democrats and Basketball

On Friday night I went to a foreign democrats meeting held at a beautiful hotel in New Delhi. The occasion was an analysis of the first 100 days of the big “O” conducted by a panel consisting of a UK NPR reporter, a BBC correspondent, a Time magazine writer and a reporter from the Hindustani Times. The food was quite good, top quality, 5 star hotel kind of stuff.

It was a very stimulating evening. I met a number of Americans, including one young lady from New York. Clara is here doing an internship with dalits/women’s rights and will be returning to the States in June in order to attend law school at Fordham, University of Michigan or Columbia.

I started talking about my love of markets and Clara smiled and asked me if I knew of a farm called Cato Corners in southeastern CT. Of course given my work in southeastern CT I did know of Cato Corners. Clara had been working summers at one of their farm stands in Brooklyn and was hoping to go back this summer and do the same.

This points up the smallness of the world. How I can be literally half way around the world from my home state of California, or Connecticut for that matter, and talk about someone that we both know, even though I had never met Clara before.

Would I have ever met Clara in the States, most likely not, but I met her in New Delhi. Will I ever see Clara again in my life, most likely not, although given the magic of the universe, maybe. But, that is not the point. The rather strangeness of it all, but yet naturalness, is something that certainly warrants some thinking about.

Another person at the democratic affair told me about how he recently read an article in a local newspaper describing how a three year old in India insisted on going to a village and talking to his “wife”. He then proceeded to talk all about his life with her. The individual that I was talking to told me that he now believed in this kind of stuff, i.e. I assume some type of reincarnation.

Are we meant to connect with specific people on our life journey, and have we seen these “souls” before? It brings up an interesting question, whether life is somehow “programmed” or whether we are all just free spirits making things happen as they will.

I’m not really sure about this, as I would hope to have a lot of free will, to determine what happens, but of course, we all have certain doors that we can choose to see and knock on, enter or keep closed. We can place ourselves in situations that seem far beyond any fences that we’ve posted for ourselves. We can seek to go well beyond our fears and truly live extraordinary lives and meet someone like “Clara”, who we may not meet in our home countries, although she is from our home country.

Here’s the entirely other piece as basketball, and my passion for this sport, continues to be prevalent no matter where I go. (And why wouldn't there be a connection given the big "O's" playing of b-ball) It turns out that the Delhi Democrats Chair is the Boys Basketball Coach at the American Embassy School (AES). Once we got onto this he told me that he might possibly have an opening for an Assistant Coach. Sam introduced me to JD Walsh http://jdbasketball.com/, a 6’8”, former University of Maryland basketball player, who now runs coaching camps for children all over the world, including Palestinian and Israeli children.

On Saturday I went to the AES for my noon basketball game. Upon arriving there was JD doing a basketball camp. He actually ended up playing with us for a few minutes and I was able to try to guard him on once occasion. After leaving the AES, I went to the YMCA, where I was able to swim and then coach.

This was the third Saturday that I’ve been able to coach around 40 children in basketball. The head coach is a wonderful man and is allowing me to really help the children. Typically I run a few drills and then get to spend some focused time with the girls and younger boys.

Being aware of gender issues I was able to divide the children up into five groups in order to do some stretching. I left it to each group to decide who to put in the middle to lead the stretching. I noticed that there were only boys leading. I then asked the groups to change leaders and stated clearly that they must be led by girls. After some hesitation all girls were leading the stretching. A small thing, but nonetheless a way to start breaking down gender barriers. I’m very sensitive to this entire issue, thanks to my life experience and a VSO focus, but I feel that I can subtlety, though very concretely, do something about this through basketball.

There is also the guy on the Delhi list-serve Yuni-net, who recently sent out an e-mail about wanting to watch some of the playoff games with others! He is a Boston Celtics fan, no matter, it would be fun to connect with other NBA types.


I’m intent on making basketball more a part of how I live my life, a team approach, a teaching and learning experience, a dance that brings people together to not only like one another, but to also respect and love one another. It is all amazing stuff and can happen by walking through doors at posh hotels in New Delhi in order to realize how great the big “O” really is.

Some notes about Democrats and Basketball

5/3/09
Some notes about Democrats and basketball

On Friday night I went to a foreign democrats meeting held at a beautiful hotel in New Delhi. The occasion was an analysis of the first 100 days of the big “O” conducted by a panel consisting of a UK NPR reporter, a BBC correspondent, a Time magazine writer and a reporter from the Hindustani Times. The food was quite good, top quality, 5 star hotel kind of stuff.

It was a very stimulating evening. I met a number of Americans, including one young lady from New York. Clara is here doing an internship with dalits/women’s rights and will be returning to the States in June in order to attend law school at Fordham, University of Michigan or Columbia.

I started talking about my love of markets and Clara smiled and asked me if I knew of a farm called Cato Corners in southeastern CT. Of course given my work in southeastern CT I did know of Cato Corners. Clara had been working summers at one of their farm stands in Brooklyn and was hoping to go back this summer and do the same.

This points up the smallness of the world. How I can be literally half way around the world from my home state of California, or Connecticut for that matter, and talk about someone that we both know, even though I had never met Clara before.

Would I have ever met Clara in the States, most likely not, but I met her in New Delhi. Will I ever see Clara again in my life, most likely not, although given the magic of the universe, maybe. But, that is not the point. The rather strangeness of it all, but yet naturalness, is something that certainly warrants some thinking about.

Another person at the democratic affair told me about how he recently read an article in a local newspaper describing how a three year old in India insisted on going to a village and talking to his “wife”. He then proceeded to talk all about his life with her. The individual that I was talking to told me that he now believed in this kind of stuff, i.e. I assume some type of reincarnation.

Are we meant to connect with specific people on our life journey, and have we seen these “souls” before? It brings up an interesting question, whether life is somehow “programmed” or whether we are all just free spirits making things happen as they will.

I’m not really sure about this, as I would hope to have a lot of free will, to determine what happens, but of course, we all have certain doors that we can choose to see and knock on, enter or keep closed. We can place ourselves in situations that seem far beyond any fences that we’ve posted for ourselves. We can seek to go well beyond our fears and truly live extraordinary lives and meet someone like “Clara”, who we may not meet in our home countries, although she is from our home country.

Here’s the entirely other piece as basketball, and my passion for this sport, continues to be prevalent no matter where I go. (And why wouldn't there be a connection given the big "O's" playing of b-ball) It turns out that the Delhi Democrats Chair is the Boys Basketball Coach at the American Embassy School (AES). Once we got onto this he told me that he might possibly have an opening for an Assistant Coach. Sam introduced me to JD Walsh http://jdbasketball.com/, a 6’8”, former University of Maryland basketball player, who now runs coaching camps for children all over the world, including Palestinian and Israeli children.

On Saturday I went to the AES for my noon basketball game. Upon arriving there was JD doing a basketball camp. He actually ended up playing with us for a few minutes and I was able to try to guard him on once occasion. After leaving the AES, I went to the YMCA, where I was able to swim and then coach.

This was the third Saturday that I’ve been able to coach around 40 children in basketball. The head coach is a wonderful man and is allowing me to really help the children. Typically I run a few drills and then get to spend some focused time with the girls and younger boys.

Being aware of gender issues I was able to divide the children up into five groups in order to do some stretching. I left it to each group to decide who to put in the middle to lead the stretching. I noticed that there were only boys leading. I then asked the groups to change leaders and stated clearly that they must be led by girls. After some hesitation all girls were leading the stretching. A small thing, but nonetheless a way to start breaking down gender barriers. I’m very sensitive to this entire issue, thanks to my life experience and a VSO focus, but I feel that I can subtlety, though very concretely, do something about this through basketball.

I’m intent on making basketball more a part of how I live my life, a team approach, a teaching and learning experience, a dance that brings people together to not only like one another, but to also respect and love one another. It is all amazing stuff and can happen by walking through doors at posh hotels in New Delhi in order to realize how great the big “O” really is.