Three Months Later...

As I write what I believe will be the ultimate blog post of this trip, I have an overwhelming sense of de ja vous and a feeling of having come full circle. This evening, as I flew into Delhi from Chennai, I was transported back 3 months ago to when I first arrived here in India, staring out the window at the lights of Delhi asking what I had just gotten myself into. The mixed feelings of excitement, fear, and anxiety rushed back to me tonight as I looked out and saw the lights of Delhi, just as I saw them that night. I had absolutely no idea what to expect when I came to India; I had images of women in vibrant saris in busy markets, dirty streets packed with slums, and color, exploding color everwhere.

Three months ago, I knew only what I had seen in magazines, what I'd read about in preparation and what people told me. I knew that I'd be on a program with five other people but I didn't know all of their names. I knew where I'd be living but I had no idea what it actually looked like or what the people would be like. Most of all, I was an absolute stranger to India, a pilgrim to a place that called to my spirit, but of which I knew nothing.

Today, three months later, sitting in the same room I sat in the first night, it's incredible to look back on everything that's happened. Only four of the eight of us are here on this absolute final night; Laura had to go home early, Stephen went home from Kathmandu, Rebecca left a few days ago and Rajiv is in Putna taking care of his father. The house is almost eery with the memories of those first, confused and overwhelmed days. Days when we all barely knew each other, days when India was a complete stranger, and when every corner seemed to have a shadow lurking behind it. Today, my bags are, somewhat incredibly really, lighter than they were last time I was here, and in many ways, my heart is the exact opposite.

When I get on the plane home tomorrow, I know that I'll be leaving a large part of my heart here. My heart is with the kids in Gangtok, who, I still miss desperately every day. My heart is in the mountains of Bhoutan, the bustling city of Kathmandu, the energy of Mumbai. My heart is with the amazing people that I've met on this trip and the incredible opportunities that I've had here.

In many ways, I think I must have been Indian in a past life, or that I have an Indian soul. My soul feels at home here, and that gives me the strength to overcome the challenges to my Western upbringing that I've encountered here; the poverty, the never ending sickness in some form, the language barriers, the fact that I get ripped off at least once a day because of the color of my skin. But my proclivity to give unconditionally, to try and offer everything I have to those around me and the spiritualism I've always embraced match much of what I see in the people here.

Three months ago, I came laden with questions, searching for answers. I wanted to know so much about the future that I was bursting with questions. What will the cause that I champion in the future be? Do I lean towards International Relations or Business as a major? Do I want to live abroad? Do I want to spend my life doing the on the ground work of an NGO or non-profit or do I want to be behind the scenes?

Three months later, I'm as close to an answer as I think life will ever let me get. I have, perhaps, the most important answer which is that I don't need to have an answer for all of these questions. I don't need to know what will happen in a month and I definitely don't need to know what will happen in four years. Everything can change in a day, a week, a moment. I mentioned in a blog post awhile ago that one thing I've learned about myself on this trip is that I have a tendency to live in the future, and that I have a problem focusing on the present. That still stands true, and I haven't fixed it, but I've made a lot of peace with it. I know that I'm not perfect, and I never will be, but I can strive every day for a better version of myself. And that sweet acceptance is really all that's necessary.

In some ways I'm afraid to go home; I'm afraid of what others may perceive has changed about me, I'm afraid that I will be shocked by things I once found so normal, but mostly, I'm afraid that I'll let myself revert back to my 'old ways'. In the past three months, I've found an acceptance with imperfection, an ability to control myself from planning too far ahead in the future, and most importantly, a much deeper understanding of myself than I had when my plane first touched down here.

I came filled with questions, filled with a need to regain the passion that I felt I'd lost over the past few years, controlled by a fear of getting stuck on the "hampster wheel" and never being able to break free. Now, I've found answers for many of my questions, I feel passionate and excited about life and the future, and I know that I am in control of my own life. I think that in our culture, we lose this love for our life somewhere along the way with expectations and pressure. We forget, or maybe never learn, that we truly have complete control of our lives and that we can do whatever we want with it. Although I won't be doing this, I know now that I could not go to college if I wanted, because it is truly a choice. And it's liberating to know that I am choosing to go to college because I'm excited and passionate about the opportunity to learn, and to interact with professors and peers, not because I'm blindly sure that is the next step I am supposed to take. And there is freedom in that knowledge that I'm not waiting for next year, or just a few more years until I really enjoy myself. I know that I can truly enjoy myself today and every day by making decisions about what I want to do in life, not what society tells me I have to do to be sucessful.

And perhaps that, in and of itself, is sucess. Making decisions about your life without an eye towards the step tahat will follow, but instead, living in the happiness of the moment and not waiting for tomorrow, next week or next year.

India has taught me more lessons than I think I'll ever truly realize. I've learned practical travelling lessons and I've learned relationship lessons. I've learned lessons about life and love and the ties that bind us all together. I've learned that there is never one right answer to a problem, and that frequently, what I think is right, coming from my frame of referene, might not be right for anyone but me. I've learned that Indian trains smell like pee. I've learned that I can wear the same clothes for a very, very long time. I've learned that I can't fix everything, but I can make small changes. I've learned that just because someone thinks differently from me, doesn't mean they're wrong.

I have seen more of India than I imagined when I came; I've been to the northeast, up in the Himalayas and the hill regions. I've been in the South, seeing both the west and east coast of the county. India is not a country to be understood. I could spend every day here until I die and I still would be surprised every single day. India is not perfect, just like nowhere in the world is perfect, but what they do better than anyone else I think is accept that imperfection. Poverty isn't swept under the carpet here, it's blaring and in your face. Unfortunately, sexism is rampant and manifests itself all over. But India, and it's people, aren't ashamed of these blemishes and instead, welcome you to see them and examine.

I apologize for the rantiness of this post, as I am thorouhly exhausted and I think it's time for bed. I suppose all that is left to say is thank you to everyone that's been reading and following this blog, especially to you who have given me feedback as I really appreciate that. I may launch a new blog for Spain, but I'm currently somewhat undecided, so I'll let you know :) Thank you for being a part of my journey.

And most importantly, thank you to my parents who made it possible for me to do this. They believed in me and my need for this time and I truly will never be able to thank them enough as this has altered my life and my future more than I think anyone will ever truly know. They stood behind me and supported me in my decision to break off and come to South India, and my mom spent tireless hours slaving away organizing the small details of our trip since I had minimal time. So, although saying thank you alone is never enough, I'll try anyways and say thank you for your support and your love.

Much love, as always,

Sara

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

written Nov 30, posted Dec 3

Our departure for Chennai was quite the sight and likely could have made for an incredible horror movie. We sat at the platform, three over packed Americans among a sea of Indians with considerably less baggage, watching what we assumed was heat thunder lighting up the night sky. We had already eaten dinner in an overpacked restaurant, the air heavy with grease and sweat, and endured another round of photography. Apparently, we are quite the fascination, and we've decided to start charging Rs. 10 per photo shoot next time...it's actually ridiculous. Anyways, so we're sitting on top of our huge bags on the platform, sweating in the thick, hot air, when a cool breeze with hints of water fell upon us. Before we realized what was going on, it was pouring rain, and I mean really pouring, the thunder was lighting the sky up purple  and we were desperately trying to avoid the rain from soaking our bags. And then the roof starting leaking.

Leaking probably isn't the right word. Leaking implies small divlets of water flowing from the ceiling, imaginably something you could catch in a bucket. It was as if the roof was funneling down towards the middle; an absolute gushing river of water was pouring down and we were desperately trying to avoid the direction of the water. So now, there are three over packed Americans, desperately trying to lug their bags around the small area covered by a shabby roof, providing entertainment for those around us. And then the lights started to flicker. And that was when, with our train 30 minutes late, and utterly soaked in water, it began to seem like the beginning (or possibly the end) of a horror movie.

Finally, we boarded the train, where we were met with rivers of dirty water in the corridors and lugged our very wet bags into our cabin. And all is (hopefully) well from there, as that is where we are at now. The train is ticking along and thunder frequently lights up the sky outside. And I am being diligent and updating anyone reading this about my adventures! Yay!

So, last I left off, we were on the train to Kerala. We arrived safely and were picked up by a very happy driver who took us to the houseboat. The houseboat was lovely and relaxing, the scenery absolutely beautiful and after no sleep the night before on the train, I napped most of the afternoon. For anyone considering coming to Kerala, I would say that while the houseboat is beautiful, it's unnecessary as you literally do nothing but sit there all day long. And after awhile, trees are trees and it all begins to look the same.

The next morning, Satheesh (our new driver) picked us up and drove us to Thekkady, where we were doing a homestay for the next two nights. We had, foolishly, anticpated a short drive...maybe an hour tops. Instead, our drive took seven hours. If I were writing a book, or if there was a theme to my trip or my blog, it would be that nothing is ever as you expect it to be. I expected to be trekking Everest right now, and instead I'm on a train heading to Chennai. I expected to be coming home December 26th, and instead I'll be home in six days (as of writing this, which I'm doing on the evening of Nov 30). But I guess the simple lesson that life is trying to teach me is to never have expectations, or to expect that your plans will change and that you'll simply have to adjust. Which I'm getting very good at :)

So anyways, the drive that was supposed to take 4-5 hours, took us seven hours. Why? Because essentially half of the state of Kerala (prounounced Care-uh-la) is on strike. Why? Because of a dam. Exlplain more? The British built a dam here way back when and the dam is starting to crack and needs to be rebuilt/fixed. And the unfortunate universal trait of governments failing to heed warnings and fix things early on (think the levy in New Orleans) is a scary foreshadowing to a possible tragedy in Kerala. Because IF the dam breaks, 40 lahk (a lahk is 100,000, so 40 lahk is 4 million) people are in danger. Our driver estimated for us that the total population of Kerala is around 100 million people (I haven't had time to check out this statistic for myself). So for the past three days, the people of Kerala have been striking, begging their government to fix the dam before people die. And the scary part is, it could happen any day. The dam already has cracks and is leaking and it is truly just a matter of time before something happens.

So, to help break up some of the monotonous sitting (frequently strikers wouldn't let anyone drive...just to create havok I believe), we diverted from our route and went and did an elephant ride! Quite the ultimate tourist activity to be sure. It's a crazy experience to realize that you're on top of an elephant, which is quite possibly the slowest moving animal. Perhaps the most interesting part of the ride was the end, when we were exposed yet again to the lack of Indian manners when the man who led the elephant around said 'Did you have a nice time? Please tip'. I'm unsure as to whether its an effect of English being their second language, but Indians can be VERY direct. For example, when we were in Gangtok, Rajiv bought a birthday cake for one of the girls. After they brought down some other cake for us for dessert, he commented to her that he "hadn't had any of the cake [he] gave her and would like to try some of it". When he said this, we were all somewhat aghast as in the US, you would never ask to have some of a cake you gave someone else. But here it is perfectly okay. The converse of that is that you frequently have to ask multiple times if its okay to join someone for a meal or you should always bring gifts to dinner as a thank you for their generosity. Oh, the confusion of  new culture.

Anyways, so we eventually got to Mickey's. Which for the record, was not a homestay. To me, a homestay means that you interact with the family, get to know their life and what daily life for an Indian family is like. We were in a seperate room with our own bathroom very far away from the family, we had one meal with them which was supposed to be included and we later found out definitely wasn't included. So, fail.  

The first day, Claudia and I went to get Ayurvedic massages. Ew. They literally must have used at least 2.5 cups of oil on our bodies (respectively, not together). It was absolutely disgusting. I've never felt so oily. Not to mention that I smelled like Indian food for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, as a result of the strike, pretty much everything was closed until 6, so we just walked around for awhile and then went back to the hotel. That night we went to a Kerala Kalari (martial arts) show followed by a show of local theater (which I can't remember the name of). The martial arts show was pretty cool. And, no fricken surprise, Alex was chosen as a volunteer from the audience to participate in the show. Seriously, how do these things happen to him?! The theather was really cool cause they have super intricate costumes and make up. Honestly, the only way to really depict it is going to be through pictures, so I'll have pictures up ASAP on Facebook! By the way, I promise that my Picasa will be totally updated, but it might have to wait til I get home to be honest :/ Sorry! I need time and true computer time to get that all done.

After the show we went out to dinner where we met a super nice Indian couple on their honeymoon. They were quick to tell us that their marriage was an arranged marriage but they seemed super happy. I mentioned in a blog awhile back that I thought it was interesting how open Indians here are to arranged marriage and that it's not necessarily seen as negative here or "constraining" to the women which is how we see it. To be honest, I think many people find it liberating; if you're not having a good time finding someone on your own (and I think many people can agree to that), then your parents set you up with someone who matches your personality. It's really not all bad. There's not the expectation that your marriage will always be on love and that you'll always love each other as much as you do the day you get married. And in modern India, women have a say in the situation and can say that they don't want to marry certain candidates. Food for thought.

This morning, Claudia and I went to a so-so yoga class with an incredibly cocky but not very good teacher. Man, do I miss yoga. Despite being in India, the home of yoga, we haven't really done much and we haven't been able to find good teachers or good timing for it. After that, we packed up and left and went to a spice garden which was really interesting, especially when they explained the Ayurvedic uses for each plant as well as eating uses. After we started our journey to the train station (4 hours) and here we are! So that catches up on everything.

As we enter the final week of our trip, I find myself constantly pulled in two directions, practically ripped in half by the contrast in my desires. Half of me wants to fight leaving, wants to dig my heels into the rich Indian earth and refuse to leave this country that I'm in love with, despite the fact that I've truly barely gotten to know it (much like a lovesick girl after a first, or maybe second date). I want to wander the country until I know the stereotypes, until I've seen the desert, the mountains, the plains, the village life, the city life. I want it all. This is an unfortunate flaw of mine, that I want to know and experience it all. As a child, I couldn't understand why it was impossible to create a robot that knew everything. Now, I understand it logically, but I still want to know it all. I want to know every language, I want to know how people live their lives and I want to be a part of it.

And the other part of me is counting down days until I'm in beautiful San Diego again. Counting down the days until I see my family, have lunch with my grandma, catch up with my friends and those important to me. Counting down days until I have clean clothes (seriously, my clothes actually reek right now), til I can gorge myself on an enormous salad made with the salad dressing my family is famous for. Counting down the days until I'm watching 'How I Met Your Mother' with my brother instead of on my tablet.

And so begins the epic battle within. The truth is that I'll be glad to be home, but I'll miss India incredibly I think. I won't be one of those people who says they 'left their true self in ____' because the truth is that my true self is with me wherever I go. But just as I did with Vietnam or London or France, I'll be leaving a tiny piece of my heart here. And that's the way it should be. Eventually, little pieces of my heart will be littered accross the world, stretched across continents and connecting me to people all over the world.

Everytime I've left somewhere on this trip, I've felt this overwhelming feeling that I've left something behind or forgotten to pack something. It's a feeling I always have whenever I leave someplace. And I have finally realized what it is; I'm leaving behind a piece of myself and my story. When I left Gangtok, the feeling was so overwhelming, I almost asked the driver to turn around so I could check again. But it was because I was leaving the kids, who I still miss every single day. When we left Mumbai, I had to check the room three times to convince myself that I had everything; then I realized I was leaving behind the amazing times with the Chens, a city I'd fallen in 'like' with very quickly, and the Babla family who had been so generous to us.

And so begins the countdown. The question is, and will remain, am I counting the days that I have left until I go or the precious few I have left before I have to leave? And there's really no answer for that because the truth is that it's both. I hope very desperately that this won't be my last rendezvous with India and that this love affair, which I can't say I wasn't anticipating, will continue.

Love always,

Sara

Post Script: Writing this a few days later to add on. We are safely in Chennai and all is well here. We have met up with the incredible parents of a good friend of ours, Heema. Her parents have been incredibly kind and generous and absolutely fantastic to us and Chennai has been a great city so far! There will be another post to come before I leave, we've just had very minimal internet access recently. Much love.

and a post- post script from Mom, who is posting this for Sara.....we can't wait for her return home!! We are also tremendously grateful beyond words for all the kindnessess she is being shown, and has been shown, by our friends and their friends and families in India. What an amazing experience she has had!!

Trains!

Trains, trains, trains! How to describe an Indian train...let's start with the boarding which was hectic to be sure as we weren't entirely sure which was the train was coming from and thus, which end to be standing at. Our train was scheduled to arrive at 6:14...it finally actually arrived at almost 7:45. We were lucky in that we met a few tourists also going on our train to Kerala who were able to provide some insight about our train; that it would be around 15 hours long, that the train itself had been travelling for over 48 hours meaning it wouldn't necessarily be very clean, that it was not advisable to eat the food on the train (provided by a man wandering the corridors yelling 'kana! kana!' (food! food!)), which led us to stock up on a wide variety of incredibly unhealthy food options.

Despite our best efforts, we were all spread out a little bit, but within a 10 yard range or so, simply in seperate berths. I wound up with three very nice men; the first was an assemblyman/minister who had recently been unseated in the election by someone of a different party. The other two were dancers, who taught coreaugraphy and were currently organizing a dance competition in Mangalore (think 'So You Think You Can Dance'-esque). I had a very nice conversation with them before falling into an incredibly fitful and unrestful sleep. As an overestimate, I'd assume I slep 5 hours last night...not pretty. The reeking smell of urine that permeates everything in this train, coupled with my dislike of sleeping on pillows/with blankets that I can't guarantee are clean makes for a very tiring night.

What else can I tell you about the train? It's just starting to get light so we can finally see what were passing; currently, it looks incredibly tropical, and I'd assume we're passing rice fields although I can't be sure. A man runs down the corridor yelling 'chai! chai!' (tea! tea!) every few minutes but to be honest, the tea does not look at all appetizing. Much of our car is still asleep (a miracle if you ask me) so I'm just sitting in somewhat silence on what i think is a fairly dirty mattress, looking out of a definitively dirty window. Ah, such is life.

I had an interesting conversation with the men in my berth last night that is along the lines of something I've said before on my blog I believe but think I should reiterate. Many people have asked me how I've liked India, or if they should come and visit. And the truth is that I can't answer the question of if someone else should come to India. Primarily because, I believe, India is what you make of it and what you want it to be, like life. Its definitely possible to come here and NOT see the kindness of the people, to NOT see how diligent and hardworking they are and to NOT see the beauty of the country itself. If your attitude in coming is predisposed to not liking it, then you certainly will not like it. And I think that's the way much of life is- if you're not looking for the good, you won't find it. You have to WANT life to be good, you have to LOOK for that good to see it in others and in the world around you. Because there is bad anywhere in the world, and I don't question that for a moment. But there's good too and the key is to allow the good to overpower the bad for you.

But anyways, enough of my rant. Back to Mumbai! I believe I left off on the 20th after we had dinner with Ajay and his wife, which was absolutely fabulous. Afterwards, we went back to the hotel where we encountered a parade complete with a groom riding a very decorated horse, in the street eventually leading into our hotel. We watched for

 awhile and then Claudia and I decided we wanted to go. Unfortunately, we were unable to tie our saris and couldn't find anyone to help us, so we didn't go, but Alex, who's outfit was MUCH simpler to put on than a sari, did go down and wedding crash. He said it was absolutely fine (no surprise, as Indian weddings are a completely different beast from American weddings) and that nobody minded his being there, even when he told them the truth.

On the 21st, Claudia and I had breakfast early, then went for a walk on the beach followed by a  swim :) Of course, we looked overly scandalous in our American bathing suits but we ignored that and persevered. After lounging for a bit, we set out on what turned out to be quite the adventure to get to Worli Sea Face (an area of town which we'd never been to) to meet up with the Chen family to join them for mehindi (what we know as henna in the US). Not knowing how far away it was and intoxicated with the idea of taking a rickshaw, we got in a rickshaw and handed him the address of where we were supposed to meet the Chens. After what we believe was him driving us around in circles for about half an hour, he pulled over to a very random (and somewhat sketchy, despite how crowded it was) area of town and demanded that we pay him. We paid him and left the rickshaw utterly confused. We decided to try again, and tried to hail a taxi but after ten minutes and few taxis, we gave up and took a rickshaw again. This time, the driver explained the issue to us (although we were already moving at this point)-- rickshaws aren't allowed in South Mumbai (SoBo), but he offered to take us to the nearest taxi station. So he did and we got in a taxi who had no idea where the hotel was, so he took us to Worli and then pulled over to ask directions...about five times. Quite the ordeal really. And at first, it would have been very possible to be frustrated or pissed, especially at the first guy who ripped us off, but in India you have to realize that people are just trying to make some extra money any way possible and its hard to blame them for trying to earn an extra 40 rupees. Sometimes, you just have to roll with it and accept that you got a little extra sightseeing of the city, or the country, and acknowledge that they're working hard to try to provide for their families and there's no reason to try and underpay them. However, if you're being completely obviously ripped off, like the rickshaw driver our last night who tried to tell us that we owed him 100 Rs for a ride that should have been 10 Rs, it makes sense to argue about it.

We hung out with the Chens at their hotel until about 7.30, which was nice for me because I was able to catch up on all things Amuricaa! Unfortunately, the girl doing mehindi was taking too long, so Claudia and I weren't able to get it as we had to go to dinner with Ajay. Ajay and his wife had very kindly invited us to join them for dinner at their home...a properly homecooked meal the likes of which we hadn't seen in quite awhile. Claudia and I left at around 7.30 which we knew was pushing it a little bit to be back by 8. Unfortunately, we didn't just push it, we were outright late. The first cab we got in (keep in mind we were in a fairly remote/nontouristy area of the city at night) tried to overcharge us to get back to the hotel so we got out and said no thank you. We wandered around, trying to find the main street for about fifteen minutes until we found another cab (finally!). However, after about 200 yards, that cab ran out of gas and told us wed have to wait an hour for him to get gas. We told him to thank you as well, and walked down the street again. Now, it was getting plain dark, I really needed to pee, and there were only men walking around this rather sketchy area (keep in mind, in India, after dark, it's usualy only men who walk around). FINALLY, we found a cab that managed to get us all the way home, but we didnt get back to the hotel until around 8.40, and we didn't meet the Bablas at their home until almost 9 (an hour after our arranged time). Luckily, they were very forgiving and told us we were obviusly adjusting well to IST (Indian Standard Time), which requires you to add an extra hour onto any arranged time. After dinner, we went out for local ice cream (I got an Indian flavor which I cannot remember the name of) and then they dropped us off. Again, Alex spent the night crashing a wedding at our hotel.

The next day was the wedding. It was a fairly lowkey wedding as Indian weddings go, primarily because the bride was American and as a result, her entire family/every person she's ever known wasn't at the wedding. The ceremony itself still tok upwards of 5 hours. Indian weddings are incredibly casual, with people getting up and walking around during the ceremony, grabbing food and snacks, chatting away. True to form, Alex managed to somehow become an actual part of the wedding ceremony...we believe he was mistook for a sibling of Liz's (Elizabeth Chen's aunt) but he certainly stepped in for the role of brother while Barbara and Guang Chen stepped in as Liz's parents. It was a beautiful ceremony, very well done and the decor was gorgeous. After the wedding, we tried to go to the World Trade Center which we'd been told had some nice shopping but which really, in our opinion, ended up just being sketchy. Additionally, we fell asleep in the cab (yes, all of us) and we're fairly sure the driver went around in circles. Can't blame him. Later, Liz came over to our hotel (after we sat in an hour and a half straight of horrific traffic) and we hung out and were honestly all too exhausted to go out at night. Alas!

The next day, we had arranged to hang out in the early afternoon with the Chens by the pool. However, in considering our flight and timing for the next day, we all grew anxious that our slum tour (scheduled for Thursday the 24th) would make us late for our flight, something we weren't willing to miss. Luckily, we called the company, Reality Tours, and they had space on their afternoon tour so we were able to join in on that. First of all, anyone traveling to Mumbai MUST, MUST, MUST do this tour. It's led by locals who recycle the profits back into the slum in the form of a kindergarten and community center where they teach English and computer skills. The tour is about $10 and incredibly eye opening. It goes through Dharavi, which is the largest slum in Asia and where 'Slumdog Millionaire', the Oscar-winning movie, was placed.

Before going, when I thought of a slum, I thought of people living in small huts, using god knows what to bathe and having absolutely no money. That is not the case today; there are doctors and lawyers, teachers and other professionals living in the slum...the key is that they CHOOSE to stay there because that's where their community is. I think in the US, that is something we forget; that community can overcome discomfort and that being with those who matter to you and support you, is far more rewarding than living in a huge house far away from neighbors you've never met. And the truth is that they do have basic appliances (stove, microwave, TV, etc). That being said, when we went inside an actual house, it was shockingly small. I would apprximate that the actual LIVING space (sleeping etc) was about 3.5 yardsx 4 yards, give or take a little bit. Incredibly tiny really for a family to be living in. And yet they do. And, as I said before, many choose to live in the slum. That being said, plenty would likely prefer not to live there. One bathroom is used by 1500 people daily, so you can IMAGINE how disgusting it is. Frequently, women choose to just go outside than to go into the disgusting bathrooms. So it's not an ideal situation and it certainly makes you grateful for what you have. I'm grateful for the fact that I have a room all to myself at home, with a bed that is comfortable, with space in my room to do things. I cannot imagine studying and preparing for school in a room that small and I can only imagine how difficult it must be on children who have to do that.

Really, I'd say that Mumbai taught us not to believe expectations. It was th first part of our solo journey, without adults, and I think part of it was proving to ourselves that we could do it. I have certainly learned that to a certain extent I am a control freak and I feel far more comfortable in charge because then I know that I'm not missing any details and that everything is acounted for. Whether or not this is a positive attribute is quite debatable I'd say. But slowly, I'm learning. I'm learning to let go of control and simply trust. I'm learning to not try and control thers and their actions and to let them learn their own mistakes. I'm learning to hold back my opinion until someone asks for it. And most of all, I'm learning to learn and to be patient and wait for things to happen instead of trying to force them to happen.

India is many things, and I truly believe, it will be whatever you want it to be. If you want it to be a nasty, dirty place full of evil people, it will be just that. If you want it to be a beautiful country with untrustworthy people who will try to rip you off at every corner, it will be just that. But for me, it's a beautiful country, full of honest people who may try to make a little extra money off of you because you're a tourist in their country with considerably more mony than them. And personally, I think there's nothing wrong with that. There are times when I want to overcharge tourists in San Diego simply because it's my home and I don't feel like sharing.

So, if you come to India at any point in your life, be aware of what you want when you come. Because, as in life, if you're looking for the bad or the negative, you'll find it. But if you're looking for the good and the beautiful, you'll find that as well :)

Much love, as always,

Sara

Lounging on the Beach

ALLLRIGHT, I really have absolutely no excuse for not keeping this up to date. I'm obviously not the blogging type. Oh well.

At the moment, Im sitting at our hotel in Goa, which is absolutely beautiful and quaint, with huge welt-like bug bites covering my feet...lovely. This blog post will go backwards I think which will make it easier for me to give as much detail as possible on what's been going on.

Currently, we are checked out of our hotel and awaiting our taxi which should arrive in the next half hour to take us to the train station at Thivim, where we will being our 13 hr. train ride to Erankulam (Kerala). We'll do an overnight on a houseboat, and then two night homestay. After that, we have a 10hr train ride to Chennai where we'll be for 5 nights, before returning to Delhi and then...drumroll please...HOME! :) So I will be in the U. S. of A hopefully by the evening of Dec. 6th :)

So Goa...unfortunately, as following with much of my experience in India, Goa has not been at all what I expected. We're staying at Grandpa's Inn, a beautifuly cute little hotel with a very nice pool and a nice staff, located near Anjuna Beach, one of the most well known beaches in Northern Goa. Anjuna is known as the "freak capital of the world" (don't believe me? Google 'freak capital of the world' and Anjuna Beach, Goa will come up). Naturally, I was expecting a beach full of "hippies" or generally, just funky people doing funky things. I was told that we would be offered drugs left, right, and center (obviously, the primary reason I wanted to come to Goa...), and that there were crazy parties every night all over. In our two nights here (and to be fair, we only went out one night), we really didn't see any partying, and were only offered drugs once and it really seemed like he was just offering as a joke or because he had to, without any real interest.

Goa is absolutely gorgeous, lush and tropical; it's hot and muggy, but the beach is beautiful (aside from constantly being hassled by people trying to hawk their wares) and the water is warm. There are thirty plus restaurants along a strip of beach approximately 500 yards long or so. The restarants go straight up to the water; while at dinner, with the tide coming in yesterday, one of the tables was swept away so Alex jumped in the water (he was wearing shorts underneath his pants) to save it. There is fantastic seafood in Goa (as it's right on the water) and it's all relatively cheap compared to Gangtok or even Mumbai. The people all seem to be incredibly kind and its a very laid back community from what we've been able to tell in our two days here. To get around, we rented mopeds and we really must have been quite a sight in them. As many of you know, I'm not necessarily the best at operating mechanical vehicles, but as Claudia wasn't keen on learning to drive one (by the way, far more difficult than it looks, especially in India where there are no road signs, you drive on the left side of the road and people just generally do whatever they feel like), so I decided to try my hand at it. After running it straight into a wall, I finally got the hang of it and was zooming along like a pro :) I even mastered having Claudia on the back of the moped with me!

After hanging at the beach for a little, we went out for lunch in town and then just drove around on our mopeds for awhile to see the surrounding area. Finally, we came back to the hotel, where we all settled down for a mellow afternoon. Around 4 or so, the power went out (not a strange occurance in India) and we were in darkness until sometime late into the night when I woke up freezing because our AC had finally kicked in :) As Anu's cousin told us in Kalimpong on that first visit, power outages and lack of food listed on menus is how you know you're in a third world country. We decided to go and get some food so we moped'd into town where we had DELICIOUS tandoori kebabs and biryani (a local dish I believe), and then we went back to the beach to see if there were any parties (there were not) and came back to the room around 10 and then went for a quick night swim before bed :)

We had come to Goa on the 24th, after having been in Mumbai since the 19th. Mumbai also was not at all like expectations- we'd been told it was dangerous, that people would constantly try to rip us off, that it was a huge mess of people. Personally, I found none of these things to be particularly true. I do however think that if Mumbai had been the first place in India we had come and spent time in, I would have been incredibly overwhelmed. It is a lot of people, but its location on the beach gives it that 'chill' aspect that you see in people who live near the coast anywhere in my opinion. I also hadn't realized how important being near the ocean is for me until I was back in Mumbai...I felt a weight lift off my chest as I breathed easier near the ocean and felt more at ease. I guess I'll alway be a California kid!

On the first night we saw firsthand the disparity in wealth that Mumbai is also famous for. Our hotel, the Sea Princess (kindly set up by the incredible Ajay Babla, Meghan Babla's uncle in Mumbai who hosted us and truly made us feel welcome in the city), has a club attached that is apparently a major hot spot for rich kids and stars to party. And then we were talking to the staff at the hotel who told us that they lived in villages outside of town and commuted massively to get to work each day. It was honestly somewhat incredible to see this wealth discrepancy so obvious in front of us.

The 20th we were delighted by the incredible deluxe breakfast at the hotel. After breakfast, we went down to Colaba (the tourist area) and got our tourist on in Colaba, the highlight being going to Leopold's for lunch (Shantaram anyone?!) where we spent the entire time looking for anyone that we were convinced COULD be Gregory David Roberts. Then we wandered around Chowpatty beach until a little before sunset, when we went to have lunch with Ajay and his wife.

AHK! Our car is here to take us to the train station. I promise to compose another blog post while on the 13 hour train ride that will highlight the pieces of the trip I'm still missing!

But for the record, safe and sound and loving India still :) Can't wait to see everyone when I get home though!!

Love always,

Sara

Happiness in the Small Things

Yet again, I find myself apologizing for going so long without posting. I really don't have any excuse whatsoever aside from laziness. So without much further ado...

Last time I posted, we had just arrived in Kalimpong, where we stayed until the 1st of November. On the way to Kalimpong, we went lazy rafting, down the Teesta river...nothing too exciting as the scariest rapid we encountered MIGHT have been rated as a class I rapid. In Kalimpong, we were able to get a taste (albeit a bi diluted) of Diwali which essentially consisted of nonstop fireworks for three days. Fireworks that are entirely illegal in the States are easily available here for about Rs. 40. Kids crowd the street, lighting up the sky with beauiful fireworks. They come in all colors, shapes and sizes, and it's truly a magical feeling to see the smiles of the kids light up from the fireworks.

On our way home from visiting Anu and Rajiv's land and meeting some friends of theirs (side story that illustrates what I love most about India- apparently, these are people that Anu has only met once, but we decided to stop by and say hi on our way through and the mother insisted we come inside, made us a full meal (despite our protestations that we'd already eaten) and hosted us for almost two hours), Alex, Stephen and I picked up a few fireworks. As we were walking back after lighting off a few of them, we ran into a group of kids who were playing in the street with some firecrackers and various other lightables. After a few minutes, we ended up sharing some of our remaining fireworks with them; again, I was reminded to the beautiful innocence of young children, for whom a firework can bring such simple joy.

The other highlight of our time in Kalimpong was at a party that we went to. The best description I can give is that it is akin to the types of parties you see at the end of a week of family camp, where everyone gets up to show off a different act at the talent show and it all lasts forever. We had a great time meeting up with various people at the party and interacting; unfortunately, but not necessarily surprisingly, we, and our white skin and blue passports, made us quite the attraction for the night.

After that, on October 1st, we headed out to Makabari Tea Gardens for a homestay. Makabari is apparently world reknowned as the best tea in the world; they currently hold the world record for the most expensive tea ever sold and are an entirely organic farm. Honestly, anyone considering a trip to this area of India (north eastern) should DEFINITELY spend some time there, as there is a lot to learn from the families you'll stay with, the attitude of the village and the management of the gardens themselves. The tea gardens are an entirely organic operation, with focus on supporting the community around them. Additionally, they were an organic operation before it became 'cool' to be organic, and helped to define what an organic tea farm means for many international organizations.

Rebecca and I stayed with a lovely family in their home. It was a simple home, with a seperate kitchen and bathroom and I believe about 3 bedrooms. Unlike homes in the US or really almost anywhere else, the  various parts of the house are not all under one roof, instead they're somewhat spread over a small area. Their daughter, Dipika, is twenty two and pursuing her masters in history right now at a college outside of Darjeeling. The father is a forest officer in Siliguri, and the mother works at the pharmacy for the tea gardens. I have only highly positive things to say abou them as they were incredibly welcoming and kind to Rebecca and myself. They were what would be described as lower middle class, I believe, and although they lived comfortably (the room was fully equipped, food was readily available and they had quite a few 'extras' such as TVs), it was clear that they were not exceedingly well off. Something we've learned to be very careful of in India is that people here will often give far beyond their means in a desperate desire to give as muh as possible, and frequently its up to you to draw the line and to refuse them. Frequently, this takes the form of refusing thirds on food because, quite simply, you're not sure if they're giving you all the food that they have and if they'll go somewhat hungry if you eat completly.

Additionally, living with them for four days made me realize something that I was already coming to realize; how unnecessary so many things (yes, material items) are. I am very fortunate in that I've never been in need of anything- I have plenty of clothes, food and 'extras'- and you don't realize how unnecessary it all can be. It's not so much that I plan on throwing away all of my earthly posessions when I return home, but more that buying additional isn't necessary. At this point, I've shipped the large majority of stuff I brought to India with me back to Delhi, and am officially completing the rest of the trip with one pair of jeans, one pair of yoga pants, one pair of loose pants, 5 tank tops, 2 long sleeves and 1 jacket, quite simply because I don't need all the other clothes. More importantly, it reiterated the idea that its not the material objects that matter in life, but the people that you have close to you and your family.

While at the tea gardens, we did a tour of the factory (very nice) and the gardens (also very nice) and interacted with quite a few of the workers who are truly incredible. They have started a lot of community projects based on the revenue that they make from the homestays (yes the whole $25/night per house stay goes straight back into the community) and the sale of tea in their shops. They are an incredibly energetic and vibrant community.

Also, Rajiv knows the owner of the tea gardens, Rajah, fairly well. We were able to do a tea tasting and tour with him which was INCREDIBLY interesting and very informative. He educated us about the importance of supporting women in the community as they are the root of change within a community (we all know this to be true) and the importance of organic farming. Later, we joined Rajah and his wife in their beautiful home to celebrate Rajiv's birthday. I had a very interesting conversation with Rajah's wife about her life and about various aspects of Indian culture. Her marriage was an arranged marriage and one of her sons asked her to find him an arranged marriage after becoming frustrated with dating and all that entails.

In the West, we have an incredibly taboo view of arranged marriage that I don't think is really fair at all. I've seen quite a few arranged marriages that have worked out incredibly well and I think the key is that they start with few expectations; in a marriage of love, when something goes wrong, people tend to blame each other, or eventually simply fall out of love and feel that their marriage isn't worth holding together without love. In an arranged marriage (and to be fair, I'm speaking in hypotheticals as I've never been in an arranged marriage...obviously), I think that the couple starts as strangers and, instead of being torn apart by something going wrong, tend to grow closer as their marriage progresses because they began with few expectations for it. And most importantly, in current Indian culture (in MOST places), it's no longer something that confines women as they usually have an option to back out of it or to say no.

All in all, we had an incredible visit to the tea gardens. After three nighs there, we left for Darjeeling, where we spent two days. Good lord, it was FREEZING cold. Which brings up another unfortuante situation- earlier I mentioned that I had shipped the majority of my stuff back to Delhi...that included all of my cold weather clothing, so I will be spending the next 8 days freezing my little butt off as this part of the world seems somewhat unaware of the wonders of insulation and central heating...eek. Anyways, Darjeeling was incredible and I only wish that we'd had more time to spend there and explore. It also didn't help that on our one exploration day I was sick again (seriously again?!) with another stomach bug that left me stuck in bed for most of the morning, so I missed out on seeing Rajiv's boarding school (which I was very excited about seeing actually) and seeing a little more of the town. But it was really beautiful. And now we are back in Kalimpong before we head to Bhutan for 8 days, then Kathmandu for a few days and then Alex, Claudia and I will begin our South Indian adventures!

As we were leaving Makabari, Rajah looked at each of us individually and asked us if we were hppy. There was a range in everyone's answers, but when it was my turn, I said with my California sunshiney smile, and a true heart, "Yes, always." Everyone laughed and Rajah said, "Oh always? That must be nice."

But the truth is, that I am always happy. Sure, I have moments of frustration and sometimes saddness, but who doesn't? And truly, those make the happier moments those much sweeter. And perhaps this will all be incredibly naive-sounding, but I am incredibly lucky because I think I am always happy and optimistic. Because, most importantly, I'm happy with my life and the person that I am and if you're happy with those two things, then nothing can really bother you for too long. I have an incredible family; parents who are my best friends and who have supported me in every major decision I've made thus far in life and who have allowed me to explore myself and the world to the fullest extent; brothers who I love more than I can express and who I trust and depend on; a boyfriend who asks no more than that I simply be myself and who trusts and loves me unconditionallly. I am blessed with grandparents, alive and dead, who are responsible for helping me to achieve so much that I have and who have supported me in the pursuit of all my dreams; aunts and uncles who love me and upon whom I know I can depend on for anthing; cousins who make a Skype call before a wedding a priority, who take the time to leave me loving notes on my Facebook. And friends. It's a running joke here that I refer to everyone as my best friend. But the truth is, that all of my friends mean that much to me that they cannot simply be a friend becaus they mean so much more to me and have influenced me so much more. I am blessed to have friends that give themselves to me fully and who know me better than I know myself.

So yes, it is nice to always be happy. Knock on wood that I'm not jinxing myself with this post and that some horrific calamity doesn't strike soon that makes me lose my belief in the goodness of people and life, but even if I am, in some ways I'm okay with that because being so in love with life and the goodness of the world is worth it, even for a minute.

Love always,
Sara

Accidentally in Love

What defines falling in love? Furtive glances, an intoxication with a smell, an obsession with a feeling, all consuming thoughts, a pull deep inside your chest.

Perhaps not entirely on accident, and aganst my best wishes, I have fallen truly in love. Head over heels madly in love...with India. Gregory David Robers (author of Shantaram, which is my new favorite book and which everyone should read right now) put it far better than I could ever dream to. "This is not like any other place. This is India. Everyone who comes here falls in love-- most of us fall in love many times over. And the Indians, they love most of all...That is how they manage to live together, a billion of them, in reasonable peace. They are not perfect, of course. They know how to fight and lie and cheat each other and all the things that all of us do. But more than any other people in he world, the Indians know how to love one another."

Those of you who know me well know that I love with the entirety of my heart; I'm all or nothing with my love for people and when I let someone into my life deeply, I will do anything for them and I do my best to devote myself fully to their happiness. It is this same emotion that I see mirrored in the Indian people that I have met. Following our final Hindi lesson on Tuesday, our Hindi teacher (whose name I still cannot remember) produced a small gift for us and told us how difficult it would be to see us go after getting to know us so well and spending so much time with us. This is a man whose arrival we dreaded and frequently openly criticied in ways that I believe it would have been impossible not to notice; this is a man for whom we had never done any work and some of us didn't even show him the respect of waking up in the mornigs. And yet, I could tell that he genuinely meant every word that he said and that deep down, he would miss us.

Roberts perfectly captures the Indian people. When I chose to come to India, many questioned my decision, peppering me with questions and well meant concerns about the safety, drilled me on how I would handle beggars (knowing that I am prone to heart wrenching guilt at the sight of someone in need), and generally doubting the sanity in my choice. There are so many horror stories of India out there, from the movie Slumdog Millionaire, which was the first introduction for many to India, to various news specials on the extreme poverty that plagues India, but underneath all of the horror stories, which very much true, exists that pervasive theme of love. By simple necessity, many Indians may initially seem hardened to the plight of their countrymen in our very Western and naive eyes, but that couldn't be farther than the truth. The India that I have encountered (and yes, I have been cheated and swindled during my trip thus far by various peoples who saw my white skin and assume that I was a passing through tourist), is an India full of love and inclusion; an India where people want to open up their homes, and most importantly their hearts, to you. And when someone opens themselves so fully and genuinely to you, its impossible not to love them back with every fibre of your being.

India is never what you expect, no matter how well you think you understand it. I hoped that when I came, I would find my inner peace through extensive meditation and yoga. Instead, as I reflect on what I refer to as Phase I of my trip, I realize that coming to India hasn't change who I am, but, instead, gave me a mirror to better understanding myself. I am still just as bubbly, energetic, loving and caring as I believe I was before I left. The poverty hasn't hardened my heart (I still feel a sharp pain in my chest every time I pass a beggar) and the sprituality hasn't necessarily made me any more spiritual than I was before I boarded the plane. Instead, so far, India has forced me to see what type of person I am, serving as an inward mirror instead of a window to a different self. I've learned that I tend to live in the future, instead of in the present, always living a day, a week, a step ahead of the moment I'm in, and thus never truly appreciating where I am except in reference to its value as a stepping stone to the future. She has taught me that I love unconditionally and that although the pain of seperation (yes, in this instance from the beautiful children at Lepcha Cottage) may be difficult to bear at times, it's worth it for the love that you receive. India has taught me that I am the type of person who will take a brief moment of extreme happiness over a lifetime of mediocrity. Most importantly, India has taught me the importance of trusting my gut and my intuition.

All of that being said, my adventure is not over and I certainly have more to learn. Each phase of the I believe will teach me incredibly different but all incredibly valuable lessons about myself and about life. Each portion will help to make me a better, more mature and wordly person, with a deeper awareness for the world and life around me.

I have fallen in love with India; in love with the wide array of religions, the vast differences in culture, the child selling "holi" (colored chalk thrown during festivals) and firecrackers on the street. I have fallen in love with every single one of the children at Lepcha Cottage, the taxi drivers of Gangok, and Mr. Softy ice cream. I have fallen head over heels for the lull of Indian accent on English words and the pervasive British undertones that still define much of Indian society. I am a lovesick, swooning teenager for momos (similar to dumplings), dal (lentils) and dosas (crepe-like pancake with spicy potato filling). And like in any relationship, I recognize the not-so-great aspects of my love- the poverty, the cheating, the corruption- and accept them with pride and love.

Sending love from Kalimpong,
A lovesick teenager.

Catching Up...

Wow. Wow. I really suck at keeping this up. It's been over two weeks I believe since my last post and I apologize profusely. Things have been pretty crazy around here and in the midst of it I just didn't feel up to the challenge of blogging...apologies.

Let's start with the most pressing first- my current illness. Some of you may know bits and pieces of what is going on, but here is the full story. For the past week or so, I've been fighting off a pretty nasty cold. A few days ago I noticed that a lymph node on the right side of my neck was massively swollen (approximately the size of a solid rubber ball in my neck). Yesterday, Rajiv took Steven and I (Steven has also been fighting off a nasty cold) to the local hospital to see a doctor.

Reasons I love India: I saw three specialists yesterday for a grand total of...drumroll please) $2.50. Less than I spend on a Subway sandwich. Steven and I jointly began our adventures with the ENT specialist, who told Steven that he had a nasty virus and told me that I had essentially a nasty cold. She prescribed us 5 and 4 medications respectively. I then journeyed onto the eye doctor, who took one look at my bloodshot eyes and told me that I had conjunctivitis which CAN be pink eye. However, I refuse to accept the hypothesis that I have pink eye because I lack the most obvious symptoms (the eyes that crust over while sleeping and are incredibly itchy to bein with).

Our final stop was the dermatologist for a look at my nose which (thanks to the lack of true tissues here...something I will definitely appreciate once home!) has become crusty/almost scabby and definitely not healthy looking. After all of my visits, I had a grand total of 6 different medications prescribed to me which were available and purchased for a grand total of under $15. The lesson learned? Third world countries might make you sick but they sure know how to take care of you!

After coming home, I emailed the incredible Mother for her/our doctor's opinion of the situation (email complete with pictures, never fear!). She said, which I agree with and find much more plausible, that the whole situation actually looks a LOT more like strep, to which I am INCREDBILY prone, or a staff infection (on my nose), both of which can be treated. After speaking with the lovely Dr. Gary Miya and my regular doctor, Dr. Asha Deveroux, we confirmed that the medications I had been given would treat either of these options as well. So, I am hopefully on my way to feeling like myself again :) However, it's a long process and unfortunately, being sick makes you 100x more homesick.

Next up...my current travel plans. I don't want to go into too many details, but an opportunity arose for me (and anyone else if they so wished) to take some time and visit Southern India more extensively than previously planned. However, this meant that we would have to depart our program early (opting out of the Everest trek portion); after much deliberation because it was not a decision easily made, I decided that I would take this option. Alex and Claudia have decided to join me (although Claudia will actually be leaving on Nov. 26th because for her own reasons, she has decided to do the trek with a family friend and her trek begins Nov. 29th) and we are busy planning our trip! It is too soon to give extensive details of our itinerary as we are still roughing it out but as soon as I know, I will update you.

This was a very difficult decision to come to, especially given the kindness that Rajiv and Anu have shown us, but after extensive discussions with Mom and Dad, we decided that this was best for me. I want to truly make the most of my gap year and I think that this will help me. Additionally, for a multitude of reasons, Mom and Dad weren't comfortable with the trek situation/scenario per se and we all agreed that this was for the best J If this explanation does not satiate your desire to know more about what’s going on, shoot me an email and I’ll give you more details.

Since I last blogged, Laura has actually left our program for personal reasons. She has safetly returned to New York and is hopefully taking good care of herself :) We love and miss her!

Over the past week or so at Lepcha Cottage, we have been working with our 3's and 4's on a writing assignment; they were given a list of 15 'new' words and asked to choose 6/7 of them to incorporate into a story they wrote with a partner. It's been quite a learning experience all around I'd say; many of the kids were intimidated by the idea that they should be writing their 'own' story and instead essentially wrote well known fairy or folk tales again. Originally, Alex and I were against this and tried very hard to get them to write their own story or at least an adaptation of the story but eventually, we were forced to give in somewhat as we realized we were fighting a losing battle. The kids finished the majority of the stories yesterday, along with their beautifully designed covers, and they are fantastic! It was a great feeling to see the kids so excited about finishing their stories and about finishing something they'd really thrown themselves into. Pictures of the covers of the stories are to come and will likely be loaded to my Picasa if not Facebook. If you want to see the Picasa, click on the slideshow of pictures that should be next to my blog and it will take you directly to it.

On Wednesday, Claudia, Alex and I went to see the kids' school. While quite a few kids are from Lecha Cottage (especially the younger ones) most of them are just from under privileged families and they live in the Boys' or Girls' Hostel on campus. The school is really nice, with a lot of playgrounds and it seems like a good teaching staff. As they were short on teachers that day, they asked us to fill in a little bit. We spent the morning with our 3’s (most of them were from Lepcha Cottage) essentially just playing games. Then, the vice-principal took us to the Boys’ Hostel for lunch where yet again, Indian hospitality amazed me. They refused to let us eat in the dining hall or on the steps with the boys, and insisted on serving us a far nicer and more complex lunch than the students were eating. After this, we went to the 7^th and then 8^th grade classrooms (Class 6 and 7 here) and talked about ourselves. It was incredibly awkward to be honest and I’m not entirely sure it was productive for either party but it provided us with some good laughs: Claudia and I trying to sing “Colors of the Wind” with our voices cracking, our utter shock and disgust at how well known Justin Bieber is around the world, and desperate attempts to explain where North Carolina (or even California) is within the United States.

Anyways, I think this post is officially getting to be too long and packed with information. I hope you all have amazing days J Feel free to email me at sjlinssen@gmail.com if you ever want to!

ALSO: If you’ve ever wanted to know some more about Lepcha Cottage, or if you’re interested in sponsoring one of the kids (a grand total of $300/year), go to www.sikkimchildren.net.

A Thousand Miles Away and Yet So Close

When I think of tradition, I instantly picture Tevye in "Fiddler on the Roof" singing about tradition from the rooftops. Tradition is something that I've been a part of my entire life as a Jew, something that I embody and something that has created a part of who I am. But until being thousands of miles away from home, I'm not sure I entirely understood tradition, or at least definitely not as I do now.

India is a country utterly steeped in tradition; tradition oozes out of every person, and the tentacles of tradition find their way into everyday life. A few weeks ago, there was a holiday to celebrate the 'machine gods', thus everyone spent the day honoring their cars, computers...anything mechanical. But tradition really became evident during the past holiday of Desai.

We were lucky enough to be in Kalimpong for Desai (thank goodness because apparently Sikkim has essentially banned celebrations here following the earthquake). The heart of the festival of Desai is being with family; every day one must go and visit an elder member of the family and be blessed. We were lucky enough to observe this occuring in Kalimpong, when some cousins of Anu's were blessed by the eldest uncle in the family. This tradition highlights the importance of family in Indian culture, something I think we've started to lose a little in the West.

While looking at schools last year, I sat in on a class at Oxford College at Emory University about the social status of the elderly in our culture. Before information became available at our fingertips, the elderly were revered as the ones to whom we went for information and help because they knew more than anyone else in the community. But as books became readily available, we stopped learning from our elders and turned instead to books and then, eventually, the wide expanses of the internet. And with this, the value of being an 'elder' in the community began to decrease.

But in India, despite an ever increasing Western influence and a quickly changing community, the value placed in family and your elders still remains. Indians remember that there is still much to learn from someone who has lived far more than you; it may not be knowledge about the planets or calculus or biology, but they teach us about life. As children, Indians are taught to respect those older than them and to defer to their wisdom, whether it be practical wisdom or more frequently, life wisdom.

Of course, this is somewhat of an oversimplification; as Western influence grows, there will always be plenty of youth who do not properly respect their elders and who do not return for holiday. But in Kalimpong, we saw Anu's family from all over India flock to the family home to pay their respect to their elders. We were lucky enough to be a fly on the wall as her family celebrated something that is lost, or at least temporarily misplaced, in Western culture.

Interestingly, Desai somewhat coincided with the Jewish High Holy Days, which caused me to reflect on my own traditions and beliefs. I have always been a half-hearted Jew; I believe in a God, but I have fought against the constraints of religion and prayer for longer than was probably necessary. But suddenly, being thousands of miles away from home, I found that I wanted to participate in the small Jewish ceremonies I had always taken for granted; I found myself chanting the Sh'ma, attempting Kol Nidre and eventually Google-ing all of the prayers so that I could have my own attempt at a Yom Kippur service, something I could almost share with my family and friends back home. A thousand miles away from home, and the traditions I took for granted and avoided at home are now what make me feel that home isn't necessarily so far away. Because, with my eyes closed for the Sh'ma, I could see Rebecca and Rachel next to me at services in 4th grade, my father falling asleep at Rosh Hashanah services, and everyone gathered for my Bat Mitzvah almost six years ago. But more importantly, it allowed me to access the home that is inside and will always be there.

Lots of love as always,

Sara

Nine.

Greetings from India :)

So we just spent the past three days (essentially) in Kalimpong, West Bengal, which is where Anu's family lives. I'm going to split the stories from the trip into a few posts because I'd rather not overwhelm anyone with a dauntingly long post. It also will allow me to talk about a few other things in more detail :) So from the beginning...

Anu had been in Delhi for her son's wedding (which was great apparently and she had a fantastic time), and was going to Kalimpong to set up a few things there with their propety and her family. We were supposed to be going to Kalimpong over these dates for a celebration for the wedding but after the earthquake Anu and Rajiv (along with the children) decided not to have the party and to donate all the money that was going towards the party to earthquake victims. We'd had to get special permits to go (and by special permits, I mean Rajiv and Anu treated some government official to drinks) and it seemed pointless to waste our special permits so we decided to go ahead with our trip to Kalimpong just for fun :) Rajiv had decided that we would drive 2.5/3ish hour drive and then walk/hike for what he said would be 3 hours to get to Kalimpong.

We were told that we had to leave at 6.30 AM so I woke up at 6 and took a shower. We had a bit of trouble getting Rebecca (the group sleepyhead) out so we left a little late. We didn't have breakfast before leaving and Rajiv told us that we'd be able to find water on the way so we set off. When we got the hiking point, Laura still wasn't feeling well and asked to take a cab to Kalimpong as she had a stomach issue and wasn't up to the hike. As it was no easy feat at this point to get a cab, we waited for about an hour (we had some nice tea and biscuits while waiting) for someone to drive from Kalimpong to drive Laura.

And then we began the adventure. Rajiv told us it would be approximately 3km uphill and the rest downhill...lies. Claudia, Alex and I pulled ahead and stopped for a cold drink as we were starting to get thirsty (approximately at 1.5km into the hike) so we stopped to get a Sprite. The others caught up and decided to stop for a cold beer; growing impatient, the three of us pulled away again and began up the hill. At about 3km, we stopped someone to ask them how much farther up it was. Naively, I expected them to say one more kilometer (a daunting distance to be sure still).  No. We were informed that we had NINE more kilometers to go uphill, and TWENTY-FOUR more total. NINE. Meaning approximately 11-12km total uphill. Not the promised three. This was, understandbly, frustrating, but once we had a definitive distance for the walking it didn't matter as much. We stopped for awhile to finish off the last of the water Claudia had brilliantly brought along and to share a few powerbars I had.

We quickly realized that we were going to run into an issue soon if we didn't find any water soon. We were officially out of water and it was incredibly hot that day. We walked for quite awhile without any hope of finding anywhere for water. We finally came upon a few houses and a small store, and bought the most disgusting, overly sugary mango drink you can possibly imagine; out of sheer desperation and the fear of dehydration, we finished the entire, disgusting thing. We were beginning to be faced with a dillemma though, which was that there was clear, fresh water that we could very easily drink except that we had no iodine tablets/filter with us and no way of ensuring where the water was from or how clean it was. Despite incredible temptation, Claudia and Alex pulled me away from the water, threatening giardia as the price of a drink of cool water. Eventually, we grew so desperate for water that we stopped at a house and begged a woman inside to boil water for us.

After our adventures, we came up with a new set of rules to live by.

1) Never Trust Rajiv.

2) Always have Iodine.

3) Never Trust Rajiv.

To end the hike, Rajiv forced us into a cab to get to Kalimpong (we could have kept going although considering how we had no breakfast and no lunch/food aside from biscuits and protein bars). We had lunch at a very nice place called 'Gumpys' - apparently one of the few quality places in Kalimpong according to Rajiv- and discovered our newest adventure. Across the street we saw a place to paraglide and Alex, Claudia and I (eventualy joined by Laura) decided that we wanted to paraglide here. Unfortuantely, due to timing, we weren't able to do it on this trip, but we're going through Kalimpong on our way to Bhutan in November so we'll do it then. But, as someone who is incrediby afraid of heights, I was proud of my decision to attempt to jump off a mountain and soar up above.

That night we went to Cloud 9 (a restaurant near out hotel) to meet some of Anu's family which was incredibly fun as they are all fantastic. We are in 'festival time' (more about festival stuff tomorrow!) as they call it, so her family has come from all over India to celebrate together and Anu was reunited with a sister she hasn't seen in about ten years which was incredibly fun to be a part of.

Anyways, I believe that this is enough for one night as I don't want to overwhelm anyone :)

Happy Desai to all,

Sara

PS. Funny side story for my Jews- I met an Israeli couple in "Gumpys" (the first of all of the Israelis that I was told invade India) who attempted to speak to me in Hebrew...something I am definitely NOT able to do. Whoops. But it was great wishing them a happy New Year.