This whole experience has pushed my limits. It has forced me to place myself outside of my comfort zone that I have become so accustomed to and restricted by. However today, I will push them even further.
As an introvert by nature, and at times even reclusive and perhaps even anti-social, it is very difficult for me to be the one to start engaging in conversations. I usually just hang back, wait for people to talk to me, or just do my own thing. Today I will force myself to engage. Even better, I will force myself to engage with the local people here in Goa. This is somewhat of a social experiment I guess -- perhaps more of a personal test.
Regardless of what you call it, it should be interesting to say the least.
Hopefully I'll have some good stories to share with the kids!
p.s officially homesick now.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
A beautiful culture!
Yesterday evening we were invited by the students of Gujurat University in Ahmedabad to attend their traditional Garba dance for teh closing of the Navrati festival. So we put on our best Indian attire, and went for an evening of dancing with the local students.
Aside from the humid temperature of what was probably 35 degrees, it was a magical night. The students took us by the hand, brought us into the circle and showed us the traditional Gujurati dance steps. I have to say, that although I have never sweat so much in my entire life, I danced the night away with my new friends.
The traditional attire was astounding. The colours, the music, my senses were blown away by this colourful and joyous culture. It made me envious actually.
Never have I ever felt so welcome and accepted as part of the group by people who seem so different than me on the surface. It turns out, we aren't so different after all. Together, we laughed and we danced.
Oh, I might also add, that I took home best dancer award! Pictures to come soon!
Today, we left our friends from Ahmedabad behind and flew to India's southern state Goa. It's late, I'm tired and sweaty (again), and i am looking forward to a good night's sleep.
Let the adventures in Goa begin!
Aside from the humid temperature of what was probably 35 degrees, it was a magical night. The students took us by the hand, brought us into the circle and showed us the traditional Gujurati dance steps. I have to say, that although I have never sweat so much in my entire life, I danced the night away with my new friends.
The traditional attire was astounding. The colours, the music, my senses were blown away by this colourful and joyous culture. It made me envious actually.
Never have I ever felt so welcome and accepted as part of the group by people who seem so different than me on the surface. It turns out, we aren't so different after all. Together, we laughed and we danced.
Oh, I might also add, that I took home best dancer award! Pictures to come soon!
Today, we left our friends from Ahmedabad behind and flew to India's southern state Goa. It's late, I'm tired and sweaty (again), and i am looking forward to a good night's sleep.
Let the adventures in Goa begin!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
They told me so...
A few people kept telling me before I left that after a week or so I would fall in love with India. I kept wondering why this was so? Why did one need to be here for a while before seeing the beauty?
Now I think I understand. The cultural shock of travelling to India for the first time takes over your senses in the beginning. The constant noise, the smell, the sight of blatant poverty -- it overwhelmes your being and your experience.
However, as horrible as this sounds, over time you become desensitized. Over time, you notice the beauty of the land, you appreciate the history, the art, and you experience first hand the spirit and richness of the culture.
This is where I am in my journey.
Now I think I understand. The cultural shock of travelling to India for the first time takes over your senses in the beginning. The constant noise, the smell, the sight of blatant poverty -- it overwhelmes your being and your experience.
However, as horrible as this sounds, over time you become desensitized. Over time, you notice the beauty of the land, you appreciate the history, the art, and you experience first hand the spirit and richness of the culture.
This is where I am in my journey.
Friday, October 15, 2010
The amazing people - updated.
I am just back from a two day trip into a rural area of Gujarat. We accompanied the NGO Marag to 4 villages of pastoralists. These are the people, who for centuries, have raised cattle. They are called the Maldhavi people. These people are migrants, they raise their cattle on land that they do not and can not own Once their cattle have graised all of the available land around them, they migrate. These people are marginalized. They do not register their births, they do not own any land, they can not vote. The Marag organization is a grass roots organization that has helped the pastoralist communities advocate for their rights. Specifically, they focus on women and children's rights.
In all the villages we were welcomed like royalty. Many from the village came to greet us. The children had songs prepared for us, the women made us tea. Words do not do justice to explain these encounters. They have been life changing in too many ways to explain.
No longer am I blinded by the shock of the living conditions here in India, but rather I am awakened by the spirit of the indian people. In the villages, we sat together, not understanding each other's language, but somehow understanding that in each other we saw similarities. The women held our hands, the children ran towards us waving hello.
As we left the villages, the children would run behind the bus, waving, shouting, smiling. This deep human to human connection was awe-inspiring.
Also, seeing the interventions between the Marag staff and the villagers provided a perfect example of what community building and capacity building should be.
In all the villages we were welcomed like royalty. Many from the village came to greet us. The children had songs prepared for us, the women made us tea. Words do not do justice to explain these encounters. They have been life changing in too many ways to explain.
No longer am I blinded by the shock of the living conditions here in India, but rather I am awakened by the spirit of the indian people. In the villages, we sat together, not understanding each other's language, but somehow understanding that in each other we saw similarities. The women held our hands, the children ran towards us waving hello.
 |
| A children's group in Gavana village |
As we left the villages, the children would run behind the bus, waving, shouting, smiling. This deep human to human connection was awe-inspiring.
Also, seeing the interventions between the Marag staff and the villagers provided a perfect example of what community building and capacity building should be.
 |
| Villagers in Guydishan? |
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Video call with the Kids
Big mistake.
I saw the kids on MSN video tonight. I don't have a webcam here or microphone so I could see and hear them, but they could only read what I typed. They were fine. I was not. I am not.
I miss them terribly. I still feel extremely guilty for having left them solely with their father to deal with the chaos of home. Although, bless his heart, he won't tell me of all the hockey games he has to juggle or the phone calls from school. He just tells me he's fine.
They're fine. Me? that's another story. Hopefully, this awful feeling will pass.
Perhaps a fleeting moment will Kingfisher beer will help.
I saw the kids on MSN video tonight. I don't have a webcam here or microphone so I could see and hear them, but they could only read what I typed. They were fine. I was not. I am not.
I miss them terribly. I still feel extremely guilty for having left them solely with their father to deal with the chaos of home. Although, bless his heart, he won't tell me of all the hockey games he has to juggle or the phone calls from school. He just tells me he's fine.
They're fine. Me? that's another story. Hopefully, this awful feeling will pass.
Perhaps a fleeting moment will Kingfisher beer will help.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
ahhhh....Ahmedabad
After a 10-hour wait in the Mumbai domestic airport for a 40 minute flight to Ahmedabad, we arrived yesterday evening to this new city. Ahmebadad is such a breath of fresh air, literally. It isn't smoggy. It is a clean, vibrant, and wonderful city. Today we walked to the market. Not once did we encounter the sadness of the poverty that we had in Mumbai. This is not to say that the people of Ahmedabad are well off, however the city as a whole seems less chaotic, and the disparity less blatant.
Everywhere we go here, people are interested in having conversations with us. They ask questions, they are curious. The area is reknown for its bright colours, its festivals and dancing. Already, I feel quite at home here, not as bound by my internal struggles with the injustice of the extreme poverty admist financial and industrial growth. Perhaps these internal struggles clouded every minute of my stay in Mumbai.
Now, I am curious to find out more about Ahmedabad, its people, and its history. This was Ghandi's home town for a while. I have another 10 days to find out.
Everywhere we go here, people are interested in having conversations with us. They ask questions, they are curious. The area is reknown for its bright colours, its festivals and dancing. Already, I feel quite at home here, not as bound by my internal struggles with the injustice of the extreme poverty admist financial and industrial growth. Perhaps these internal struggles clouded every minute of my stay in Mumbai.
Now, I am curious to find out more about Ahmedabad, its people, and its history. This was Ghandi's home town for a while. I have another 10 days to find out.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
The beauty awaits, I hope
I am now 3 days into my stay in India, and I am conflicted to say that I have yet to see the beauty that I have been told about by so many.
Today we made our way to the market that so many people told me about. Our experience at the market was marked by the many, many children beggars that came to ask us for money. They were so young, and walked through traffic to come to us.We were apparent, even from hundreds of feet away -- they saw us.
On our way to the market a boy, not more than 6 years old came to our window. He had a mustache painted on his face with a 10 written on his forehead. He came to the side of the car and started doing cartwheels in the middle of a busy road. Then he came to rest his outstretched hand on our window. My friend couldn't take it anymore and put 2 rupees in his hand. "Ten rupees", he said. Of course, it was written on his forehead for us. She pulled out her money and gave him 50 rupees without hesitation.
The minute he left the side of the car, 2, 3, 4 more children lined up beside us. We couldn't give more, and the look on their faces was utter despair.
Everywhere I have looked in Mumbai I have seen poverty and disparity. Below a Porsche car lot lay the homeless.
Perhaps this is Mumbai only? I am hoping that my future travels to Ahmnedabad and Goa will allow me to see the beauty that is India.
Today we made our way to the market that so many people told me about. Our experience at the market was marked by the many, many children beggars that came to ask us for money. They were so young, and walked through traffic to come to us.We were apparent, even from hundreds of feet away -- they saw us.
On our way to the market a boy, not more than 6 years old came to our window. He had a mustache painted on his face with a 10 written on his forehead. He came to the side of the car and started doing cartwheels in the middle of a busy road. Then he came to rest his outstretched hand on our window. My friend couldn't take it anymore and put 2 rupees in his hand. "Ten rupees", he said. Of course, it was written on his forehead for us. She pulled out her money and gave him 50 rupees without hesitation.
The minute he left the side of the car, 2, 3, 4 more children lined up beside us. We couldn't give more, and the look on their faces was utter despair.
Everywhere I have looked in Mumbai I have seen poverty and disparity. Below a Porsche car lot lay the homeless.
Perhaps this is Mumbai only? I am hoping that my future travels to Ahmnedabad and Goa will allow me to see the beauty that is India.
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