Election

Today (11-06-08) all papers, Hindi and English alike, were three fourths full of pictures of Obama and stories of the election. There is no question about it: the world is elated that Obama won. Everyone outside of the United States, it seems (within reason of course, the sea gypsies and the tribal people in Galder have little reason for interest or knowledge) thinks Obama the single, obvious, superior choice. Funny that the US itself is so divided on the issue! I have been congratulated all day by Indians in their shops when they realize that I am from America. “USA? You will have a new president!...Yes, very good…a very good man, Obama.” Today there was newspaper in Hindi with a picture of Obama’s face set into Mount Rushmore. He he he.

How the villagers of Galder spend their days

Here is a basic list of how I have seen my family members (and other villagers of Galder) spend their day.
-Making roti (bread): handmixing flour and water, making chipattis on the fire
-Making curries from their scant resources, such as cream and hot peppers
-napping
-sitting outside on hay while cows eat from pile
-milking cow
-cleaning cow and goat excrement from front yard
-taking cows (water buffalo; what’s the difference?) to pasture or to the stream
-fetching water from water hole
- walking to stream (10-15 min. walk) for bathing and laundry
No electricity makes the day end when the sun goes down. These appear to add up to the better part of the day! Living simply takes a lot of time.

Indian Village Homestay

I awoke to our rooster (I am sleeping with ear plugs but with his bed four feet from my own they make little difference) in time to watch the early sunlight peak over the mountain from my sleeping bag. Yesterday, after we arrived, I laughed when a couple of goats walked right through the door into the house; little did I realize that the house was the goats’ living space while the family lives, eats, and sleeps out on the porch. So I lie here on the porch, the family of eight lying around me, the hen eight feet away tucked into a cubby in the adobe wall, the rooster four feet away in the corner, the goats in the house, the water buffalo in front of the porch enclosed by our small fence,, and the mountains and sunrise beyond the fields in the distance. Yeah, this is India.
As I take the morning in from the warm comfort of my sleeping bag, I stare down a water buffalo, watch the rooster’s breath in the crisp morning air (this is dessert) and watch the baby goats that have now emerged from the house prance about, jump on the late sleepers, and every once in a while loose their feet from beneath them in their spastic morning revelry.
After our city homestay in Jaipur, we are now in a homestay in the village of Galder, a village of about twenty families in the dessert of Northeast India. There is no electricity and no running water. By the looks of it, I have more in my backpack than this family of eight has in its entire home. Everyone seems to have roughly one outfit, and the dress of the youngest seems to have been reached her hand-me-down style only after her five sisters wore it before her. Bathrooms there are none, and any bathing and washing takes place at the river, a fifteen minute walk, and little more than a glorified dribble in this season of drought. We must daily walk to the watering hole and collect water to carry home—Jungle Book style, balancing pots on our heads. My twelve year old host sister puts me to shame: as I’m sloshing water down my face she’s balancing two pots stacked with no hands.
After our mornings of family chores, we help teach English at the local schools. Or attempt to control chaos. “Teach English” sounds nobler. The children are roughly aged 3-9, and at our school there are about 50 of them, four of us, and only occasionally a teacher. When you picture a village of 20 families, you may not picture a particularly large number of children. But if you imagine a village of 20 families, all with families of eight like my host family, there will be kids every where you turn. We spend our time on the basics: the alphabet, numbers, colors, head, shoulders, knees and toes, and then a few games to channel their energy. The highlight for me by far has been watching them play musical rocks. The teacher had them all find large stones and then blindfolded one and gave him a stick and a pan. Each child stood on a rock, and when the blindfolded kid began banging, the rest ran in a circle while the teacher removed a stone. When the banging ended, they all had to find a stone to stand on. Musical chairs of the developing world!
Our second night in Galder was Halloween at home and we felt it necessary to celebrate. So after our evening of masonry (we are building a stone and cement fence around the community center) and dinner with our families we reconvened at the community center for what can only be described as a pagan ritual. We found some pumpkins, candles, and musical instruments and danced around a lantern on the roof with all of the village children under the starlight. There is nothing quite like letting loose to a drum beat, guitar, harmonica, and chanting with a bunch of six year old Indians on Halloween. Hopefully they gained half as much on this cultural exchange as we did!

First Pictures of India!

Yes!!

I don't have to replace my return ticket home for one to Canada. YES!!

Jaipur, India

We have arrived in India! Although I was not enthusiastic about leaving Thailand so soon, when I walked on the Air India plane and saw flight attendents in Saris, Bindis, and Henna on their hands, I knew all was right (respectively: a traditional Indian dress, the forehead dot, and semi-permenant natural ink used to design hands and forearms.) My first interaction with an Indian was a wonderful man sitting next to us on the airplane who immediately began conversation. Gone are the days of no English speakers and only hand gestures to communicate (from the non Hindi speaker's view, this makes at the very least one benefit from Colonial rule!)

First notes on India: while leafing through the in-flight magazine, I took note of advertisements. On beach advertisements the main focus was the beach (rather than oiled down airbrushed bikini wearers) and even in the advertisements with people, they were clearly selling the relevant product rather than sex. I also have noticed this on billboards since I've been here. This after having no mirror for weeks at a time in Thailand: hurrah, SE Asia and what you do for self-respect and self-esteem! I will take into account however: my standards for "not scandalous" are far different than those here, so I could be overlooking subtleties.
It is notably interesting how quickly my sensitivities have changed: while in the airport we saw many tourists that were dressed, may I say, in a way less culturally sensitive, and while it would have been nothing out of the ordinary at home, it certainly made you blink and step back here.
And India is significantly more fully clothed even than Thailand. No matter the heat, rickshaw drivers, outdoor laborers, and the entire male population is wearing slacks or jeans and a long-sleeve button-up shirt. Women are wearing saris and scarves, covered from head to toe (with exception of mid-drift, but they have to let heat out somewhere) or other equally as efficiently covering clothes. None of them noticeably sweat, either. I want their secret!

Flight meal: The Question was, “vegetarian or non-vegetarian” rather than “beef or chicken? …oh, I’m sorry; you had to pre-request vegetarian specially.” Woohoo for meatless feasts! So far, after five days in India, I have not had to skirt around meat once; all of our group meals have been vegetarian (and salivatingly delicious) and meat is even a challenge to find. In a country of 82% Hindu (no beef), 12% Muslim (no pork), and a sizeable Jain population (nothing that has had any adverse effects on living organisms at all—within reason) it is no wonder.

We are staying with host families for this week. Our host family speaks wonderful English and the two children, 14 and 16, attend a private all English speaking school. An example of a typical day here:

7:00-8:00 Yoga Class (instructed by yoga teacher who gave lessons to Bill Clinton on one of his India visits.

8:00-9:30 Breakfast

10:00-11:30 Lecture on “A Brief History of India” or “India People’s Theater” or “Indian politics” or “Hinduism—Textual and popular traditions.” All have been great!

12:00-13:00 group lunch, each day at a REALLY nice Indian restaurant. Today was the only day without a “family style” course prepared for us; the plan was to take us to McDonald’s until several of us voiced that it would mean personal ethical breaches, so we went to another nearby vegetarian restaurant. (Different than in the US, McDonald’s has a more upper-mid class demographic and is even somewhat of a chic, status symbol. The menu is of course very different with beef replaced by veggie burgers and no beef flavor added to fries among other changes, but most of us rather take their word for McDonald’s cultural place in India and forego a meal there.)

12:30-16:00 Group Excursion: Sight-seeing Tour, visit to orphanage, Block Printing Studio, Hand-made Paper Factory, and visit to Kalakar Basti, a folk artist colony.

19:30-onwards Dinner with host families or dinner at Chokhi Dhani, a rural faux-village resort near Jaipur where we ate traditional Rajastani dinner (Rajastan is this region of India) and experienced many cultural surprises around the village, including Indian massages, henna tattoos, elephant and camel rides, traditional dances, etc.

Left-hand taboo: I’m still working on it. Even after I’ve gotten fairly good at remembering to eat with my right (I’m a lefty) it is still difficult to break my Italian habit of bread, or in this case rote, in one hand and fork in the other. Is it better to soil bread with left hand (really only there for secondary purposes,) or the fork which has the more important job? After my initial fear of soiling my Indian reputation with this, Rekha Gi and Rishi Gi informed me that now-a-days, nobody really cares and it is quite arbitrary. Then during my first meal with my family, I saw that my sister used her left hand exclusively. So much for going out of my way to be culturally sensitive. Stormy seas attraversed, nonetheless, I will continue with right. Because it is a little like eating with a foot, it takes me more time and thus enables (or forces) me to enjoy my food on a higher level.

Traffic is a delicately organized chaos with right-of-way going to largest vehicle (with exception of crossing cows): more notes on that later.

My host mother fasts every Monday, Thursday, and Friday, all for different Gods. Her husband owns a furniture shop. Their marriage was arranged with them only meeting once before the wedding day (but of course had at that meeting there been any serious objections by either it would not have been continued.) More comments on this later; I hopefully will be able to learn more personal opinions on this during my time here (because for as many reasons as a Western mind would object, I can see much sense in this cultural difference.)


Kalakar Basti is the name of a small slum community settled circa 1984 in a section of Jaipur by nomadic Indians. Traveling artists form part of a deep tradition in India, but today's organization of society makes a nomadic lifestyle near impossible. Thus, these nomadic Indians organized themselves into a community, performing traditional song and dance for tourists, in big hotels and at festivals, or wherever they can to make a living. We went to visit them in their community rather than them come to us, as is customary for them, so that we could see their way of life.








Kalakar Basti

Other notes on Thailand

Description: Decraw
A ball game played in Thailand

Each team has three players on a volleyball-like court with a five foot high net (approx.) Each side may hit the ball (usually wicker) as many times as necessary without using hands or arms (only feet, legs, chest, head, etc.)

Making payments
Gahh!! I have not seen a single place that takes either credit cards or traveler's checks. Only cash. Be it a post office, a department store, or a chain, only cash. You do not always realize how convenient spending money can be in America. I suppose America's debt problems may have something to do with that!