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.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
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!
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!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
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?
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?
Sunday, July 26, 2009
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. .
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. .
Saturday, July 11, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
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.
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.
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