ATTENTION:
At the time of this posting on 10/24 (Happy Birthday Daddy!) I only have 18 internet minutes remaining. I will try to upload another entry from Egypt or wherever we end up after that. Thanks for understanding. In regards to pictures, I know I mention them often in this post, but the uploading is going to exceed my remaining minutes. I'll see what I can do later.
India: The land of absolute paradox.
I will do my best to sift through my feelings of sensory overload in order to share my experiences with you. I had to literally step away from all that is INDIA for a few days in order to justly portray the country where absolutely impoverished people and billionaires are next door neighbors, the country that simultaneously leads the pack of multinational corporations, yet is bound by a caste system of institutionalized inequality that transcends thousands of years. THIS is India.
Day One: Diplomatic Briefing Chennai City Orientation and Welcome Reception
At 715 I had the privilege of meeting and greeting the vice consul for Chennai, India and another representative of the US embassy for our 0800 diplomatic briefing. We traded small talk about India, Semester at Sea, and career goals. Both of the speakers were appropriately informative and humorous. (The vice consul even made a shout out to Arkansas. lol.) After talking with them about 3 year overseas appointments and other requirements of State dept. employees, I began to reconsider my diplomatic ambitions. LOL. More on my new career moves later…After their presentation, we presented them with Dean’s gifts and the Academic Dean asked me if I wanted to say a few words. Granted, no other ambassador has “said a few words” to the diplomats, but I thought quickly and spoke briefly.
Immediately upon disembarkation, Jihanne and I went on the Chennai city orientation. Before I tell you about the trip, I must help you visualize the scene immediately outside of our ship. When I walked onto the gangway, I was overtaken with extreme humidity and heat. India is in early monsoon season, and while I am used to Southern heat, I was not looking forward to 90 degree weather in the middle of October. Also, we could see hundreds of mini Hyundai coups awaiting export. The brand new cars were my first taste of India’s role in the ominous world flattening (Thomas Friedman, anyone? Lol). After swiping my I.D. and descending 20 feet of stairs, I had to present identification and customs papers for at least two sets of armed guards. Just to include all of your senses in this experience, I must mention the stomach turning stench of garbage, animal/human waste, food, and exhaust fumes. And how can I forget the flies? LOL, Indian flies are bold. Swatting does not intimidate them. In fact, they will just land all over your body and chill a while. I know this sounds pretty gross, but I anticipated this bit of discomfort in a “developing” country. Over the course of this voyage, the mommy advice of monitoring and adjusting has taken on new meaning! Back to the city orientation…
Overall, I was pleased with the 4 hour bus ride around the city because I got to see sights that I may not have encountered on my Indy adventures. Also, this orientation was only 4 hours (unlike the Burma orientation that lasted 9 hours!) We visited our tour guide’s home and enjoyed Fanta and Coca Cola. My favorite stop was the San Thome Cathedral. Time really escapes me on the ship, so I had no idea that it was Sunday. Nevertheless, I got to witness a portion of Sunday morning worship. I’m not Catholic, but it was a relief to visit a place of worship other than the tens of temples and pagodas I’ve seen so far. Also, the worshippers sang English songs! It was nice. After observing a bit of the service, I walked downstairs to the tomb of the Apostle Thomas. There are only THREE basilicas in the world that enshrine Christian leaders and/or relics (San Thome Cathedral in India, St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, and the basilica of Apostle James in Spain) Apparently, Thomas was killed in India by bow and arrow while spreading the gospel. I’m not quite sure what I expected to see in his tomb, but I was surprised by the tiny piece of bone (relic) enshrined on the wall. The tomb also included benches for praying and a wax replica of the “sleeping” Thomas. I’m not entirely familiar with the Catholic faith, and I was a bit amused and disappointed in the relic. I did enjoy the moment of reverence. Before the basilica, we made a shopping detour. (Later I learned that the tour guide had a contract with the upscale boutique owners that provided a monetary compensation for every tourist group that he led to the establishment. More on that later…) At the shop, I tried on a sari that cost 125 USD! LOL. Needless to say, I did not buy anything there. Our Ambassador’s Ball (charity dinner) will have an Indian theme, and out of all of my pageant dresses, I did not bring a single piece of formal attire on the ship. I do want to wear something Indian inspired, but everybody and their momma will be wearing a sari! Lol. I’ll keep searching. That’s about all that was memorable about the city orientation.
We made it back to the ship with just enough time to get snappy casual for the Welcome reception. At 1800 we traveled to a local restaurant to participate in a cultural program and dialogue with Indian University students. The students greeted us with the presentation of fresh flower garlands and the application of kum kum to our faces. (Kum Kum can range from the red dot that you may be familiar with to orange paste smeared on the cheeks or collarbone.) After the greeting, I walked to the first station, which was a rangoli drawing on the ground. Rangoli is intricate, colorful artwork made of chalk and dyed salts that Indian women draw on their doorstep every morning to welcome visitors and ward off evil spirits (and flies). After rangoli I met an Indian student and learned that all of the students are studying engineering and are from the upper caste (Brahmins). Next, I got a henna tattoo on my left hand (don’t worry Dad, it’s already wearing off.) and enjoyed traditional Indian dance. The students were fascinated by us; and we shared conversations about everything from differing educational systems to arranged marriages and U.S. dating norms. At first, I felt a bit bored (after I finished the activities), but once I actually engaged in conversation with the students I actually lost track of time! We also enjoyed a traditional Indian dinner. I must admit that I was a bit wary of my first “spicy-eat with your hands” experience, but it was WONDERFUL. Before India, the only Indian cuisine I had encountered was a TERRIBLE buffet at a hokey Star of India restaurant in the states. I was pleasantly surprised by the flavor (and the fact that I did not get sick from the meal). After the reception, we rode the bus back to the ship and watched Inside Man until 3:00 a.m. Maybe I was just tired or distracted, but I did not enjoy Inside Man, and I LOVE Denzel movies. Oh well.
Day Two: Happy 21st Birthday to Me!
Before I even talk about the events of my big day, let me preface by saying I got my MAIL on October 15th. WOW. From my mom’s birthday cards (plural) to the sweet note from Pastor Jennifer and my best friend Becca, I felt pretty special. The icing on the cake was definitely the birthday cards I received from the BLOG/ ALUM MOMS!!!! Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to send me happy thoughts on my special day! I still haven’t received my birthday package from Dad and Ms. Annie, but I’m hoping the Indian tour agent will forward it to Egypt when it arrives.
I cannot say thank you enough for my birthday wishes!*!*!*!*!*!*!
Around 845, Kiyanna, Jihanne, and I stumbled to breakfast. I thought it would be cute for us to go to breakfast in our jimmies because the ship was virtually empty. To our chagrin, the dining room was packed! LOL. I enjoyed opening the last of my cards and eating hashbrowns, 6 mini croissants, and cheesecake. Yes, I said cheesecake. I snuck a few slices out of the dining hall the night before and munched on my “birthday cake” throughout the day. Shhhhh…It’s a secret!
After breakfast, I took a nap until 12-ish when Kiyanna and I set out on a rickshaw adventure. Our mission was to find street markets filled with silks, pashminas, and jewelry. After several offers, we settled on a bicycle rickshaw (taxi) with a lawn mower motor attached to the back for speed. We should have known from the jump that this was not the brightest idea, but the driver “convinced” us that we were only traveling a short distance to pick up his auto rickshaw from his brother. I think Ki and I were just tired of walking, so we agreed (with the condition that we would transfer to an auto rickshaw ASAP.) After about 30 minutes of driving around aimlessly in crazy Chennai traffic, our driver stopped to call his brother on a cell phone. As he walked away I said to Kiyanna, “Here’s our chance. We have to escape now! Since the ride was free, and he’s been driving around for nearly an hour, we don’t have much to lose.” I finally convinced her to sneak out of the rickshaw with me and although we never saw the aimless driver again, we hopped into an auto rickshaw with a similarly CRAZY driver. Literally and figuratively, this man drove like a speed demon. He did, however, take us to a street market. I could tell he was getting impatient as we bee-bopped in and out of shops, but he was on the clock-and on our dime! After a few hours of souvenir shopping, we went to another “contract shop” where we spent more money (in exchange for the agreed upon gasoline $ compensation for our driver.) When we left the shop, I asked him the all important question. “How much is this going to cost us?” In order to get us into his rickshaw at 2:00 he told us 50 rupees (about 1 USD). I knew the price had increased over the course of the afternoon, but he tried to charge us TWENTY USD! Was he crazy??? I think so. Suddenly I got very, very firm and demanded a price of 500 rupees (about 10 USD total.) Even that was a lot of money for him, and he was trying to rip us off for as much money as he could get. He pretended not to be able to hear our negotiations and even stopped the rickshaw a few times. His favorite saying was, “You like my work? I give you a good price.” Twenty USD was not a good price, and we threatened to walk the rest of the way if he did not decrease the price. After about twenty minutes of arguing in front of the Kabul restaurant, we finally paid him 550 rupees and went to dinner. We were a bit afraid because the restaurant was EMPTY. (Not a good sign for our American tummies.) We later learned from some French businessmen that Indians don’t usually dine until 9:00 or later, and it was only 7:00. I was a little nervous about eating in the restaurant, but it seemed pretty upscale and clean. The host even brought me a complimentary piece of flan with a candle for my birthday cake. HOW SWEET! Kiyanna and I ordered Chicken Tikka Marsala (I had to keep it safe with the chicken. LOL.) Indian rice, and Nan (a delicious fried tortilla type bread.) Maybe we were just ultra hungry, but we had cleaned our plates within 15 minutes. Dinner was GOOD. I was a bit exhausted after our rickshaw adventure and dinner, but Kiy convinced me to go to a bollywood movie. We later learned that we had not seen a bollywood film (they are famous for lots of intricate singing and dancing.) but just a regular Indian comedy. There were no subtitles and only a few English words. Needless to say, we left after I fell asleep a few times. Upon returning to the ship, I visited the little cell phone stand to call home. A few phone calls turned into a few hours worth of conversation, but they were worth every penny. I got to talk to Tiffany, (my older sister) for at least 30 minutes. That was amazing because she’s a 1st year resident obstetrician and I rarely get to talk to her. I also talked to my parents, grandparents, and a few friends. Needless to say, my phone budget is exhausted, so I’ll talk to you in Ft. Lauderdale……Just kidding. (Sort of.)
Day Three: Jesus Loves the Little Children: Missionaries of Charity Orphanage
This was one of my most anticipated trips of the entire semester. Mother Theresa founded the Missionaries of Charity Orphanage in Chennai, India in order to serve the poorest of the poor. The nuns undertake several levels of training which conclude with final vows of poverty, chastity, absolute obedience to the hierarchy of the church, and the commitment to serve only the people no one else will help. Just to give you an idea of the seriousness of the sisters’ mission, over 50% of the people at Mother Theresa’s Calcutta organization die within 24 hours of intake.
After the Mother Superior shared the story of her vocation (or calling into the sisterhood) we began interacting with the residents. One girl who could not speak immediately motioned for me to come play with her. Thankfully I had brought Create your Own Goldenbooks from my Ready Set Read program, so we communicated via stickers, pictures, and collecting autographs! It was a blast. After playing for a while, I ventured off to find the nursery. En route, I stopped in one room where 18-26 year old patients were laying on a mat. They had several illnesses ranging from blindness to total immobility. All of these particular patients were severely underdeveloped and looked like 10-12 year old patients. I took a moment to connect with a young woman who could not see me, but could hold my hand. Next, I observed the nursery where infants and toddlers were awaiting adoption. At first the sisters wouldn’t allow me to enter the actual nursery because the babies were afraid of my new face, but after a few minutes I was allowed to remove my shoes and enter the nursery. Eventually, one baby allowed me to hold her without a fit of tears and we became fast friends. I didn’t really know how to interact with the fussy, sleepy little one, so what did I do? I began to sing the song my parents sang to me. “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red and Yellow Black and White, they are precious in his sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world!” I think I enjoyed the nostalgia of the song more than the baby, because she was barely amused. She began to cry and I fed her and another little girl their afternoon meal. It looked something like oatmeal with vegetables in it. After their lunch, I made a donation to the orphanage and boarded the bus back to the ship. The orphanage visit was all that I expected and more. Even though I did not share a common language with the children in the orphanage, the power of love, laughter, and a simple smile bridged the gap and created a wonderful experience for all of us. The Missionaries of Charity truly produce a labor of love and often care for people from birth to adulthood. It was MY privilege to share my time and resources with them.
Day Four and Five: Dalit Village Overnight
This was one moment I had been waiting for since January of 2006. I wrote my SAS admission essay about the plight of India’s outcastes, and TODAY, I would get to experience life as an untouchable (or a Dalit, more appropriately speaking) firsthand! I boarded a mini-coach bus at 0800 for a very bumpy hour long ride to Kancheepuram. The ride was so bumpy that I didn’t think I was going to make it to the village without losing my breakfast. Thankfully, we arrived in the knick of time at the Delta School of Nursing where we were greeted by hosts of students with blessings, flower garland, kum kum (the face paint), and rangoli (the ground art). After a brief meet and greet, we proceeded to a classroom for a cultural presentation which included singing, dancing, and a skit about the empowerment of women. The Delta School is an program within the Bridge Education Trust program which aims to empower Dalit youth by providing them with vocational and recreational opportunities. Historically, the Dalit caste has been completely excluded from Indian society and Hinduism. They are forced to do menial jobs such as handling garbage, animal and human carcasses, and other domestic tasks. The founder of the Delta School is a Dalit named Dr. Henry ( He was awarded an honorary doctorate degree) who has been a political and social advocate for the Dalit community for more than 20 years. Currently he is the administrator of the school where approximately 40 young women live onsite in a hostel and take courses to become Certified Nurses Assistants. Interestingly, Dr. Henry and many advocates for the Dalit community esteem Dr. MARTIN LUTHER KING Jr. as a role model and liberator of the oppressed, just like their own Dr. Ambedkar. Both men were assassinated because of their life’s work, and you can imagine how shocked I was to see a 4 foot portrait of Dr. King, surrounded by fresh flowers in a small Indian village! LOL, the power of social change really can influence people all over the world. After the welcome presentation, we had a break for snacks of fresh coconut milk (For me, it sounds better than it tastes!) After the break, we met with Dr. Henry in a classroom setting to discuss the role of current state of Dalits in Chennai, India. The numbers are staggering. At least ¼ of Chennai’s population have no proper homes. Literally, millions of men women and children live, beg, and sleep on the streets. The Indian government has sanctioned reservations to afford civil service jobs and higher education opportunities to Dalits. For example, at least 50% of civil service jobs are exclusively reserved for lower caste citizens to the point that the seats will remain empty if no one meets the adjusted minimum entry requirements. As you can imagine, reservations are HIGHLY controversial in India (much like reparations in the U.S.) During the session, I asked Dr. Henry about color complexes in India. Although, I was only in port for a few days, I noticed that most of the fashion models and “faces of India” were glamorously westernized and fair skinned Contrastly, most of the rickshaw drivers, street hawkers, and domestic workers were very very dark skinned. (Many were even darker than me!) Dr. Henry argued that this “color pattern” was totally linked to the fact that upper caste Brahmins usually work indoors in education/ professional positions while the lower castes work in the hot sun all day. He said that the Dalit situation was somewhat less vile than the apartheid because it was not an issue of class and color. That seemed to be a rationalization to me. During the presentation, the power went out-several times. I later learned that electricity is rationed in the village, and power outages occur often. We opened windows, turned on fans, and continued with the program.
After the discussion, we ate a delicious lunch! I enjoyed chicken tikka marsala (again) and delicious baby bananas, fresh from the tree. I knew that I would be spending the evening in the Dalit village, so I ate well. After lunch, I watched a volleyball type game called Throwball (I’m not the athletic type! ) and departed for the village.
Let me preface this section by saying: We visited a village that was untouched by the western world. Our cameras, style of dress, and funny sounding language was foreign and fresh to them. I don’t feel like my writing can aptly depict my experiences in the village, so I’ll just stick to the basics and allow the pictures to tell the REAL story.
We arrived at the village and joined a HUGE parade of dancing, blessings, and sheer revelry-all in our honor. After partying through the village, we watched a cultural presentation (and the power went out again. This time, it was a bit more scary because we were in the middle of NOWHERE, storm clouds were looming, and the electric wires were extremely bootlegged. Not to mention, the generator did not work and a man fixed the power with his bare hands. That’s pretty scary stuff!) After the presentation, we were asked to prepare a cultural response to their show. ON THE SPOT, we sang the Hokey Pokey, Star Spangled Banner, and we BUTCHURED Amazing Grace. I was holding the mic, and I could barely contain my giggles. I knew it was a bad idea to try to sing all the stanzas with a group of strangers…LOL. After the songs we participated in a “Light Up the World” meditation in which we each held candles and considered the significance of the Light in our respective faiths. I sang a song my sister taught me years ago entitled “Light the Fire”. Good times. After meditation, we ate dinner on the roof of the only building in the village; and we gave the extra dinners to people in the village. ( at 9:00 pm- NINE hours after lunch. Needless to say, I was famished.) The scene was beautiful, and I thought, “Wow, it would be amazing to sleep beneath the stars and palm trees in India.” My wistful sentiments lasted all of five minutes-until I realized that I actually WAS going to sleep on the roof. I covered myself with bug spray and set off to the woods for a little “Pre-sleep Potty”. After which, I settled into a sleeping bag on the rocky roof. I could not sleep, but I must have managed a slight slumber because I was awakened by painful pricks on my face. I opened my eyes and realized that the “pricks” were actually rain drops. I was a drenched, smelly, dirty camper. I gave up my night with nature and went to sleep in the vans.
The next morning I visited some village homes and taught the children games of London Bridges, Down by the Riverside, and more Hokey Pokey. It was a blast. I’ll let the pictures tell the story.
After the two hour ride back to Chennai, Jihanne, Kiyanna, and I tackled the city again for an afternoon of last minute shopping and dining. We didn’t find any new markets, but we went to Spencers Plaza, BM Silks and Saris, and a street market where we bought lots of costume jewelry, amazing silk fabric (which will be converted into pageant cocktail dresses when I get home!) and a few last minute souvenirs. After more miscommunication with rickshaw drivers and a lost temper or two, we ate at a terribly spicy restaurant (I can still feel my esophagus burning!) and headed back to the ship in the knick of time.
I am still so overwhelmed by all that is INDIA. I could not even begin to write with enough detail and color to capture my trip. I almost had to force myself to write this entry, and I hope the pictures make up the difference.
All my best,
Rhonda
At the time of this posting on 10/24 (Happy Birthday Daddy!) I only have 18 internet minutes remaining. I will try to upload another entry from Egypt or wherever we end up after that. Thanks for understanding. In regards to pictures, I know I mention them often in this post, but the uploading is going to exceed my remaining minutes. I'll see what I can do later.
India: The land of absolute paradox.
I will do my best to sift through my feelings of sensory overload in order to share my experiences with you. I had to literally step away from all that is INDIA for a few days in order to justly portray the country where absolutely impoverished people and billionaires are next door neighbors, the country that simultaneously leads the pack of multinational corporations, yet is bound by a caste system of institutionalized inequality that transcends thousands of years. THIS is India.
Day One: Diplomatic Briefing Chennai City Orientation and Welcome Reception
At 715 I had the privilege of meeting and greeting the vice consul for Chennai, India and another representative of the US embassy for our 0800 diplomatic briefing. We traded small talk about India, Semester at Sea, and career goals. Both of the speakers were appropriately informative and humorous. (The vice consul even made a shout out to Arkansas. lol.) After talking with them about 3 year overseas appointments and other requirements of State dept. employees, I began to reconsider my diplomatic ambitions. LOL. More on my new career moves later…After their presentation, we presented them with Dean’s gifts and the Academic Dean asked me if I wanted to say a few words. Granted, no other ambassador has “said a few words” to the diplomats, but I thought quickly and spoke briefly.
Immediately upon disembarkation, Jihanne and I went on the Chennai city orientation. Before I tell you about the trip, I must help you visualize the scene immediately outside of our ship. When I walked onto the gangway, I was overtaken with extreme humidity and heat. India is in early monsoon season, and while I am used to Southern heat, I was not looking forward to 90 degree weather in the middle of October. Also, we could see hundreds of mini Hyundai coups awaiting export. The brand new cars were my first taste of India’s role in the ominous world flattening (Thomas Friedman, anyone? Lol). After swiping my I.D. and descending 20 feet of stairs, I had to present identification and customs papers for at least two sets of armed guards. Just to include all of your senses in this experience, I must mention the stomach turning stench of garbage, animal/human waste, food, and exhaust fumes. And how can I forget the flies? LOL, Indian flies are bold. Swatting does not intimidate them. In fact, they will just land all over your body and chill a while. I know this sounds pretty gross, but I anticipated this bit of discomfort in a “developing” country. Over the course of this voyage, the mommy advice of monitoring and adjusting has taken on new meaning! Back to the city orientation…
Overall, I was pleased with the 4 hour bus ride around the city because I got to see sights that I may not have encountered on my Indy adventures. Also, this orientation was only 4 hours (unlike the Burma orientation that lasted 9 hours!) We visited our tour guide’s home and enjoyed Fanta and Coca Cola. My favorite stop was the San Thome Cathedral. Time really escapes me on the ship, so I had no idea that it was Sunday. Nevertheless, I got to witness a portion of Sunday morning worship. I’m not Catholic, but it was a relief to visit a place of worship other than the tens of temples and pagodas I’ve seen so far. Also, the worshippers sang English songs! It was nice. After observing a bit of the service, I walked downstairs to the tomb of the Apostle Thomas. There are only THREE basilicas in the world that enshrine Christian leaders and/or relics (San Thome Cathedral in India, St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, and the basilica of Apostle James in Spain) Apparently, Thomas was killed in India by bow and arrow while spreading the gospel. I’m not quite sure what I expected to see in his tomb, but I was surprised by the tiny piece of bone (relic) enshrined on the wall. The tomb also included benches for praying and a wax replica of the “sleeping” Thomas. I’m not entirely familiar with the Catholic faith, and I was a bit amused and disappointed in the relic. I did enjoy the moment of reverence. Before the basilica, we made a shopping detour. (Later I learned that the tour guide had a contract with the upscale boutique owners that provided a monetary compensation for every tourist group that he led to the establishment. More on that later…) At the shop, I tried on a sari that cost 125 USD! LOL. Needless to say, I did not buy anything there. Our Ambassador’s Ball (charity dinner) will have an Indian theme, and out of all of my pageant dresses, I did not bring a single piece of formal attire on the ship. I do want to wear something Indian inspired, but everybody and their momma will be wearing a sari! Lol. I’ll keep searching. That’s about all that was memorable about the city orientation.
We made it back to the ship with just enough time to get snappy casual for the Welcome reception. At 1800 we traveled to a local restaurant to participate in a cultural program and dialogue with Indian University students. The students greeted us with the presentation of fresh flower garlands and the application of kum kum to our faces. (Kum Kum can range from the red dot that you may be familiar with to orange paste smeared on the cheeks or collarbone.) After the greeting, I walked to the first station, which was a rangoli drawing on the ground. Rangoli is intricate, colorful artwork made of chalk and dyed salts that Indian women draw on their doorstep every morning to welcome visitors and ward off evil spirits (and flies). After rangoli I met an Indian student and learned that all of the students are studying engineering and are from the upper caste (Brahmins). Next, I got a henna tattoo on my left hand (don’t worry Dad, it’s already wearing off.) and enjoyed traditional Indian dance. The students were fascinated by us; and we shared conversations about everything from differing educational systems to arranged marriages and U.S. dating norms. At first, I felt a bit bored (after I finished the activities), but once I actually engaged in conversation with the students I actually lost track of time! We also enjoyed a traditional Indian dinner. I must admit that I was a bit wary of my first “spicy-eat with your hands” experience, but it was WONDERFUL. Before India, the only Indian cuisine I had encountered was a TERRIBLE buffet at a hokey Star of India restaurant in the states. I was pleasantly surprised by the flavor (and the fact that I did not get sick from the meal). After the reception, we rode the bus back to the ship and watched Inside Man until 3:00 a.m. Maybe I was just tired or distracted, but I did not enjoy Inside Man, and I LOVE Denzel movies. Oh well.
Day Two: Happy 21st Birthday to Me!
Before I even talk about the events of my big day, let me preface by saying I got my MAIL on October 15th. WOW. From my mom’s birthday cards (plural) to the sweet note from Pastor Jennifer and my best friend Becca, I felt pretty special. The icing on the cake was definitely the birthday cards I received from the BLOG/ ALUM MOMS!!!! Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to send me happy thoughts on my special day! I still haven’t received my birthday package from Dad and Ms. Annie, but I’m hoping the Indian tour agent will forward it to Egypt when it arrives.
I cannot say thank you enough for my birthday wishes!*!*!*!*!*!*!
Around 845, Kiyanna, Jihanne, and I stumbled to breakfast. I thought it would be cute for us to go to breakfast in our jimmies because the ship was virtually empty. To our chagrin, the dining room was packed! LOL. I enjoyed opening the last of my cards and eating hashbrowns, 6 mini croissants, and cheesecake. Yes, I said cheesecake. I snuck a few slices out of the dining hall the night before and munched on my “birthday cake” throughout the day. Shhhhh…It’s a secret!
After breakfast, I took a nap until 12-ish when Kiyanna and I set out on a rickshaw adventure. Our mission was to find street markets filled with silks, pashminas, and jewelry. After several offers, we settled on a bicycle rickshaw (taxi) with a lawn mower motor attached to the back for speed. We should have known from the jump that this was not the brightest idea, but the driver “convinced” us that we were only traveling a short distance to pick up his auto rickshaw from his brother. I think Ki and I were just tired of walking, so we agreed (with the condition that we would transfer to an auto rickshaw ASAP.) After about 30 minutes of driving around aimlessly in crazy Chennai traffic, our driver stopped to call his brother on a cell phone. As he walked away I said to Kiyanna, “Here’s our chance. We have to escape now! Since the ride was free, and he’s been driving around for nearly an hour, we don’t have much to lose.” I finally convinced her to sneak out of the rickshaw with me and although we never saw the aimless driver again, we hopped into an auto rickshaw with a similarly CRAZY driver. Literally and figuratively, this man drove like a speed demon. He did, however, take us to a street market. I could tell he was getting impatient as we bee-bopped in and out of shops, but he was on the clock-and on our dime! After a few hours of souvenir shopping, we went to another “contract shop” where we spent more money (in exchange for the agreed upon gasoline $ compensation for our driver.) When we left the shop, I asked him the all important question. “How much is this going to cost us?” In order to get us into his rickshaw at 2:00 he told us 50 rupees (about 1 USD). I knew the price had increased over the course of the afternoon, but he tried to charge us TWENTY USD! Was he crazy??? I think so. Suddenly I got very, very firm and demanded a price of 500 rupees (about 10 USD total.) Even that was a lot of money for him, and he was trying to rip us off for as much money as he could get. He pretended not to be able to hear our negotiations and even stopped the rickshaw a few times. His favorite saying was, “You like my work? I give you a good price.” Twenty USD was not a good price, and we threatened to walk the rest of the way if he did not decrease the price. After about twenty minutes of arguing in front of the Kabul restaurant, we finally paid him 550 rupees and went to dinner. We were a bit afraid because the restaurant was EMPTY. (Not a good sign for our American tummies.) We later learned from some French businessmen that Indians don’t usually dine until 9:00 or later, and it was only 7:00. I was a little nervous about eating in the restaurant, but it seemed pretty upscale and clean. The host even brought me a complimentary piece of flan with a candle for my birthday cake. HOW SWEET! Kiyanna and I ordered Chicken Tikka Marsala (I had to keep it safe with the chicken. LOL.) Indian rice, and Nan (a delicious fried tortilla type bread.) Maybe we were just ultra hungry, but we had cleaned our plates within 15 minutes. Dinner was GOOD. I was a bit exhausted after our rickshaw adventure and dinner, but Kiy convinced me to go to a bollywood movie. We later learned that we had not seen a bollywood film (they are famous for lots of intricate singing and dancing.) but just a regular Indian comedy. There were no subtitles and only a few English words. Needless to say, we left after I fell asleep a few times. Upon returning to the ship, I visited the little cell phone stand to call home. A few phone calls turned into a few hours worth of conversation, but they were worth every penny. I got to talk to Tiffany, (my older sister) for at least 30 minutes. That was amazing because she’s a 1st year resident obstetrician and I rarely get to talk to her. I also talked to my parents, grandparents, and a few friends. Needless to say, my phone budget is exhausted, so I’ll talk to you in Ft. Lauderdale……Just kidding. (Sort of.)
Day Three: Jesus Loves the Little Children: Missionaries of Charity Orphanage
This was one of my most anticipated trips of the entire semester. Mother Theresa founded the Missionaries of Charity Orphanage in Chennai, India in order to serve the poorest of the poor. The nuns undertake several levels of training which conclude with final vows of poverty, chastity, absolute obedience to the hierarchy of the church, and the commitment to serve only the people no one else will help. Just to give you an idea of the seriousness of the sisters’ mission, over 50% of the people at Mother Theresa’s Calcutta organization die within 24 hours of intake.
After the Mother Superior shared the story of her vocation (or calling into the sisterhood) we began interacting with the residents. One girl who could not speak immediately motioned for me to come play with her. Thankfully I had brought Create your Own Goldenbooks from my Ready Set Read program, so we communicated via stickers, pictures, and collecting autographs! It was a blast. After playing for a while, I ventured off to find the nursery. En route, I stopped in one room where 18-26 year old patients were laying on a mat. They had several illnesses ranging from blindness to total immobility. All of these particular patients were severely underdeveloped and looked like 10-12 year old patients. I took a moment to connect with a young woman who could not see me, but could hold my hand. Next, I observed the nursery where infants and toddlers were awaiting adoption. At first the sisters wouldn’t allow me to enter the actual nursery because the babies were afraid of my new face, but after a few minutes I was allowed to remove my shoes and enter the nursery. Eventually, one baby allowed me to hold her without a fit of tears and we became fast friends. I didn’t really know how to interact with the fussy, sleepy little one, so what did I do? I began to sing the song my parents sang to me. “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red and Yellow Black and White, they are precious in his sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world!” I think I enjoyed the nostalgia of the song more than the baby, because she was barely amused. She began to cry and I fed her and another little girl their afternoon meal. It looked something like oatmeal with vegetables in it. After their lunch, I made a donation to the orphanage and boarded the bus back to the ship. The orphanage visit was all that I expected and more. Even though I did not share a common language with the children in the orphanage, the power of love, laughter, and a simple smile bridged the gap and created a wonderful experience for all of us. The Missionaries of Charity truly produce a labor of love and often care for people from birth to adulthood. It was MY privilege to share my time and resources with them.
Day Four and Five: Dalit Village Overnight
This was one moment I had been waiting for since January of 2006. I wrote my SAS admission essay about the plight of India’s outcastes, and TODAY, I would get to experience life as an untouchable (or a Dalit, more appropriately speaking) firsthand! I boarded a mini-coach bus at 0800 for a very bumpy hour long ride to Kancheepuram. The ride was so bumpy that I didn’t think I was going to make it to the village without losing my breakfast. Thankfully, we arrived in the knick of time at the Delta School of Nursing where we were greeted by hosts of students with blessings, flower garland, kum kum (the face paint), and rangoli (the ground art). After a brief meet and greet, we proceeded to a classroom for a cultural presentation which included singing, dancing, and a skit about the empowerment of women. The Delta School is an program within the Bridge Education Trust program which aims to empower Dalit youth by providing them with vocational and recreational opportunities. Historically, the Dalit caste has been completely excluded from Indian society and Hinduism. They are forced to do menial jobs such as handling garbage, animal and human carcasses, and other domestic tasks. The founder of the Delta School is a Dalit named Dr. Henry ( He was awarded an honorary doctorate degree) who has been a political and social advocate for the Dalit community for more than 20 years. Currently he is the administrator of the school where approximately 40 young women live onsite in a hostel and take courses to become Certified Nurses Assistants. Interestingly, Dr. Henry and many advocates for the Dalit community esteem Dr. MARTIN LUTHER KING Jr. as a role model and liberator of the oppressed, just like their own Dr. Ambedkar. Both men were assassinated because of their life’s work, and you can imagine how shocked I was to see a 4 foot portrait of Dr. King, surrounded by fresh flowers in a small Indian village! LOL, the power of social change really can influence people all over the world. After the welcome presentation, we had a break for snacks of fresh coconut milk (For me, it sounds better than it tastes!) After the break, we met with Dr. Henry in a classroom setting to discuss the role of current state of Dalits in Chennai, India. The numbers are staggering. At least ¼ of Chennai’s population have no proper homes. Literally, millions of men women and children live, beg, and sleep on the streets. The Indian government has sanctioned reservations to afford civil service jobs and higher education opportunities to Dalits. For example, at least 50% of civil service jobs are exclusively reserved for lower caste citizens to the point that the seats will remain empty if no one meets the adjusted minimum entry requirements. As you can imagine, reservations are HIGHLY controversial in India (much like reparations in the U.S.) During the session, I asked Dr. Henry about color complexes in India. Although, I was only in port for a few days, I noticed that most of the fashion models and “faces of India” were glamorously westernized and fair skinned Contrastly, most of the rickshaw drivers, street hawkers, and domestic workers were very very dark skinned. (Many were even darker than me!) Dr. Henry argued that this “color pattern” was totally linked to the fact that upper caste Brahmins usually work indoors in education/ professional positions while the lower castes work in the hot sun all day. He said that the Dalit situation was somewhat less vile than the apartheid because it was not an issue of class and color. That seemed to be a rationalization to me. During the presentation, the power went out-several times. I later learned that electricity is rationed in the village, and power outages occur often. We opened windows, turned on fans, and continued with the program.
After the discussion, we ate a delicious lunch! I enjoyed chicken tikka marsala (again) and delicious baby bananas, fresh from the tree. I knew that I would be spending the evening in the Dalit village, so I ate well. After lunch, I watched a volleyball type game called Throwball (I’m not the athletic type! ) and departed for the village.
Let me preface this section by saying: We visited a village that was untouched by the western world. Our cameras, style of dress, and funny sounding language was foreign and fresh to them. I don’t feel like my writing can aptly depict my experiences in the village, so I’ll just stick to the basics and allow the pictures to tell the REAL story.
We arrived at the village and joined a HUGE parade of dancing, blessings, and sheer revelry-all in our honor. After partying through the village, we watched a cultural presentation (and the power went out again. This time, it was a bit more scary because we were in the middle of NOWHERE, storm clouds were looming, and the electric wires were extremely bootlegged. Not to mention, the generator did not work and a man fixed the power with his bare hands. That’s pretty scary stuff!) After the presentation, we were asked to prepare a cultural response to their show. ON THE SPOT, we sang the Hokey Pokey, Star Spangled Banner, and we BUTCHURED Amazing Grace. I was holding the mic, and I could barely contain my giggles. I knew it was a bad idea to try to sing all the stanzas with a group of strangers…LOL. After the songs we participated in a “Light Up the World” meditation in which we each held candles and considered the significance of the Light in our respective faiths. I sang a song my sister taught me years ago entitled “Light the Fire”. Good times. After meditation, we ate dinner on the roof of the only building in the village; and we gave the extra dinners to people in the village. ( at 9:00 pm- NINE hours after lunch. Needless to say, I was famished.) The scene was beautiful, and I thought, “Wow, it would be amazing to sleep beneath the stars and palm trees in India.” My wistful sentiments lasted all of five minutes-until I realized that I actually WAS going to sleep on the roof. I covered myself with bug spray and set off to the woods for a little “Pre-sleep Potty”. After which, I settled into a sleeping bag on the rocky roof. I could not sleep, but I must have managed a slight slumber because I was awakened by painful pricks on my face. I opened my eyes and realized that the “pricks” were actually rain drops. I was a drenched, smelly, dirty camper. I gave up my night with nature and went to sleep in the vans.
The next morning I visited some village homes and taught the children games of London Bridges, Down by the Riverside, and more Hokey Pokey. It was a blast. I’ll let the pictures tell the story.
After the two hour ride back to Chennai, Jihanne, Kiyanna, and I tackled the city again for an afternoon of last minute shopping and dining. We didn’t find any new markets, but we went to Spencers Plaza, BM Silks and Saris, and a street market where we bought lots of costume jewelry, amazing silk fabric (which will be converted into pageant cocktail dresses when I get home!) and a few last minute souvenirs. After more miscommunication with rickshaw drivers and a lost temper or two, we ate at a terribly spicy restaurant (I can still feel my esophagus burning!) and headed back to the ship in the knick of time.
I am still so overwhelmed by all that is INDIA. I could not even begin to write with enough detail and color to capture my trip. I almost had to force myself to write this entry, and I hope the pictures make up the difference.
All my best,
Rhonda
posted by Ms. Allen at 11:08 AM
1 Comments:
Oh Rhonda, the photos of the ill children made me weep. Thank you so much for this reminder...
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