Namaste…India

Oh India… So many things happened that I don’t know where to start.
Ok trivia - what are the two worst places in the world to get your period in? China and India. As if the China experience wasn’t bad enough, I’m now in India!! Brace yourself Sheryl…

The morning our ship arrived at port, the first thing I said to my roommate when we woke up was “Katie, do you smell that?” The air pollution in Chennai is B-A-D. A distinct smell of burning fumes and exhaust. Even in my supposedly airtight cabin, traces of it could still be detected.

I’m finally out of Asia, where everything still seemed vaguely familiar. Stepping into India, everything seemed like it jumped right out of a movie set or a documentary.

The moment we got off the ship, all of us had to have our names recorded in this logbook before we could get out of the gates of Chennai Harbour. 200 students in line, and only one officer sitting at the table writing. The line turned into an impatient crowd surrounding his chair and table, with hands holding their official documents out in front of him. He randomly picks one hand, writes the name down and that person can go.

It must have been more than half an hour and we were still waiting. Pissed, I thought about discretely holding out 10 rupees on top of my paper so that he would pick it first. When in India, do what the Indians do… right? But I was afraid that he might get offended. So Instead, I used the paper I was holding out to fan him a little because it was soo hot, and soon enough, he picked my card and I was free to go!

The road outside was lined with tuk tuks. Drivers kept coming up to us one after the other and before long, we had an entourage of about 25 Indian tuk tuk drivers surrounding us saying “where you going madam?” “Here, my car here..” We asked one driver for the price, another one cut in and answered. Before we could respond, the 2 drivers started hitting each other, right in front of us! We had to break them up saying “no fighting, no fighting!” Haha..that was bizarre. Finally 4 of us hopped into a tuktuk with a driver already sitting in it, minding his own business, not bothering anyone at all.

His name was Rajen and he took us to this restaurant with only Indian locals. I, on the other hand, was with 2 white girls Alex and Katie, and another Asian looking Eurasian girl, Nancy. We definitely attracted some curious stares. Observing the locals using their hands to eat, the girls insisted on following suit. I was happy with my spoon. After lunch, we went next door to get our eyebrows threaded for…20 Rupeees! US 50 cents! Then Alex and I made our way to the local bus station in Chennai to catch a 4 hr bus to Pondicherry! To do yoga! Ok so heres the story. During the 6 days on the ship between Thailand and India, I was swarmed with midterms, papers due, and assignments. (Which explains why I haven’t been updating the blog..:P) The night before my big exam, I was so tired of doing work that I gave up studying and I put Alex’s yoga DVD on. As I was imitating the poses, it suddenly struck me that I was going to India, where yoga was born! So I flipped through my roommate’s India lonely planet and Pondicherry it was!

Back to the 4 hr bus ride. Mummy- remember how we would avoid taking bus 147 on weekends because the bus would be packed with construction workers when we passed Serangoon Road? Imagine that, but two times as packed, without air-con, Indian movie blasting in the speakers, driver honking every 5 minutes for no apparent reason…Thank god I had my ear plugs with me.

I think India is the only country that I don’t like wind in my face when cruising down the roads. Whenever we pass a cannel, oh my godd.. the smell…

Finally at 9pm, we arrive at Pondicherry. After making a few calls, we found a hostel right by the beach facing the Bay of Bengal. When I arrive at a new place, the first thing I like to do is put my bags down and explore.. but on the ship we’ve been warned about India, especially how girls might be harassed and how we should try to wear longs and cover up as much as possible. So at 1030pm at night, exploring wasn’t necessarily a good idea. But we thought we’d walk and get a feel of the streets first, and the moment we felt unsafe, we’d turn back. It turned out to be a really interesting walk along the beach. We saw Indian families probably on holiday; lovers by the beach, and tones of Indian men just sitting around chatting and watching the world go by.

Next morning, we set our alarm at 530am hoping to catch the Bay of Bengal sunrise. After I managed to drag myself out of bed, I walked to the beach only to discover that there was no sunrise. The sun was hidden behind the pollution and smog. But the bay was beautiful anyway. Hungry…we walked to the nearest café. The security guard sitting outside the café saw us coming toward him so he stood up and said “eightoclock..” accompanied with the Indian head bob. Alex asked him “do they serve chai?” he replied “eightoclock” haha.. We looked at each other, laughed and walked away imitating him..”eightoclock…eightoclock”

We made our way to an ashram (temple where devotees pay respects). Im not exactly sure which god they were praying to but old and young would come, light an incense, stick it in a metal tank then kneel in front of a raised platform with a display of flowers. They would close their eyes, lean over and touch the flowers with their forehead and say a silent prayer. Many others would find a corner, sit and meditate. The atmosphere was peaceful. Everyone was silent and you could hear the birds chirping.

Following that, we made our way to breakfast at “eightoclock..” (head bob). Alex got the papers and we spotted an article featuring some semester at sea kids scrubbing walls and painting them in an orphanage in Chennai! We were in the newspapers! So I thought I’d cut it out and bring it home.

After we worked out what we wanted to do for the day, we headed for town, looking for a market. On our way there, we passed a shop along the street selling women’s clothing. Since I only brought tank tops on the trip, I desperately needed cover up clothes. The shop basically sold factory overruns at a fraction of the price you’d get in stores overseas. It was a small run down shop, but they had brands like Marks and Spencer. At the shop, I met Sylvia from Argentina and we immediately hit it off. She was a yoga teacher in Miami and she came to India to travel and learn Meditation yoga. She asked why we were in India, so I showed her the newspaper cutting. I told her I came to Pondicherry to learn and experience yoga, but was unable to find any place that offered that. Then, she suggested that she conduct a class for Alex and I in the park! Awesome! So we said to meet back at the same shop at 4pm that day for our yoga date. Before we left, we kept repeating to each other “4pm, for sure!” “For sure!”

Alex and I then made our way to Auroville, 20 mins from Pondicherry. Now Auroville is a very special place. It is basically an area bought by a private entity with the aim of creating a whole new community free from the evils of the world within its compounds. Basic principals that the community is built upon –
1. A city dedicated to an unending education where education would be given, not with a view of passing examinations and getting certificates and posts, but for enriching the existing faculties and bringing forth new ones.
2. A place where men of all countries would be at home. Their goal is to have residences from all over the world living there.
3. A place where children would be able to grow and develop integrally without losing contact with their soul.
4. A place where work would not be there as the means of gaining one’s live hood, it would be the means whereby to express oneself, develop one’s capacities and possibilities, while doing at the same time service to the whole group, which on its side would provide for each one’s subsistence and for the field of his work.
I was really impressed. Apart from all these, the community is dependent mainly on renewable energy. And the architecture of the buildings within the compounds were all environmentally friendly. Also the food they served was made with distilled Auroville water and the ingredients were all natural, grown in their very own compounds.

They were all really good causes that I entirely agree with, but it all seemed too perfect. And I was uncomfortable with the idea of an artificial isolated community. Its almost like social engineering brought to the extremes. Although I was impressed with all the ideas and principals, I was skeptical that it would work. But Alex and I were very excited that we found that place and we told ourselves we’d go back for at least a month to learn and be immersed in the environment.

So having seen all that, we rushed back to the shop in Pondicherry to meet our new friend Sylvia. Before we stepped into the shop, she called out to us from behind. I was glad to see her. See, sometimes when we travel and meet new people and make arrangements to meet with them later on, more often than not, it doesn’t work out. So I never take it for granted that we’ll end up meeting. But when it does, it makes me really appreciate that person and I’d feel all warm and fuzzy. Haha.. So Sylvia brought us to go buy yoga mats before heading to the park for our yoga session! At the park, we laid our mats on the ground and started the session with breathing techniques. Now this is a person that was fed up with the modern way of living and gave up her dentist career to concentrate on Yoga and reconnecting her mind to her spirit. She believes that Yoga is not an end in itself, but a means to access the mind and soul, and be connected with your body. Now that made a lot of sense to me. I compared the way she taught to some of the Yoga classes I’ve attended at home--world of a difference. The instructors at home just didn’t seem to get the essence of Yoga and it seemed like we were doing the poses for the sake of it and it was more like stretching and exercise than anything more. At the end of the session, while Alex and I were lying on our backs, Sylvia rubbed her hands with a fresh smelling essence and massaged our faces. She then presented us with each a handful of small Indian white flowers. Her generosity and sincerity was amazing. When she smiles, you could see her smile coming from inside. She exudes an aura of calmness and serenity and peace that I wish would rub off on me. And more amazing, was how our meeting was so serendipitous. This is the reason why I travel. To meet people like that.
So, no goodbyes, only see you later. We arranged to meet her in Miami on Dec 7 when our ship arrives there. I know we’ll see Sylvia again.

So we returned to our hostel feeling so blessed and excited about seeing the rest of India. We picked up our bags and headed to the bus station for Mamallapuram, a state in between Chennai and Pondicherry. When we arrived, it was dark. I knew I had to rush back to the ship in Chennai early the next day because that’s where my ‘child labour village homestay’ organized by the school starts off from. So only one night in Mamallapuram, but I was determined to make the most of it. We were exploring the streets, looking for food, and there were some guys on the second story of a building waving and calling out to us, so we decided to have dinner there. Turns out, the people running the place spoke perfect English and they were the funniest and most charismatic Indians I have ever met. After dinner, Alex and I headed up to the roof of the restaurants and just chilled with the local guys. Over beer, we came to the topic about Auroville. Apparently, they said because Auroville was not governed by Indian Law, the regulations are more relaxed and that place had been misused by opportunists who use it for buying and exporting goods. And they said Aurovillians were a proud bunch and there were numerous cases of pedophilia. I was shocked, disappointed but to be honest, I saw it coming. It was too good to be true. But I still do want to see it for myself.

So the next day, it was goodbyes and Alex stayed in Mamallapuram while I headed back for Chennai. Although we met the guys only the night before, we became fast friends and I was a tad sad to leave them.

To get to Chennai, I actually planned to take a tuktuk to the bus stop, then take a local bus to Chennai bus station then take another tuk tuk to Chennai Harbour. But because I was running late, I thought I could take the tuk tuk straight to Chennai Harbour. So I asked my tuk tuk driver how long does the bus take to get from Mamallapuram to Chennai bus station? He said 1 hr 10 min. How long from Chennai busstation to Chennai Harbour? He said 1 hr. Then I asked how long would it take for the tuk tuk to get from Mamallapuram directly to Chennai Harbour? He said 1 hr. So I thought if he just went along the beach, we could head for the Harbour directly and it would cut down on the time taken. He said it would cost 500 rupees for him to take me to Chennai Harbour. And I did repeat several times, “Chennai Harbour, Chennai Harbour”. He said “ok ok”.

The journey was fun. We drove along the beach and the scenery was beautiful. It was expensive but I thought it was worth it. As we turned into the city, he stopped me at a place with a lot of tuk tuks. I kept repeating to him “ Chennai Harbour, Chennai Harbour.” I don’t know if he really didn’t understand or he pretended not to understand. Then, other drivers came and they talked and he told be to go with another driver. I said no, I wanted him to take me. So he drove off and 30 mins later we finally arrived at the harbour. By this time, I had used up all my buffer time that I had planned and I was running very late. Any later, and the bus to the village would leave without me. I paid him 500 rupees and angrily, he said it was supposed to be 700. That 500 was the last of my rupees. We got into an argument and a passerby came by. I told him what happened and I told him that the driver didn’t understand Chennai Harbour but he still kept saying ok ok and 500 was all I had. So he spoke to the driver then the driver walked angrily toward his tuk tuk and the passerby said ok I can go. SO I ran to the ship, packed the fastest I had ever packed for the village homestay, and took the fastest shower I had ever taken, and ran to the dining room to grab a hotdog, then ran to the meeting place.

There were about 20 kids on the child labour village homestay. We took a bus to the village in Kancheepuram, about 2 hrs away from Chennai, where the NGO, Ride, was situated. There, the first place we visited was the bridging school. One of Ride’s projects was to rescue the children forced into working in the sand quarries. They take them in and try to socialize them with other kids, and teach them basic English to prepare them for local schools. But the toughest part was convincing their parents to let their children come to school. Most parents give birth to children hoping that they can work and make more money for the family, so telling them that they should pay money to send their kids to school seemed absurd to them. These kids were, kids. Seeing all their smiling faces, its hard to imagine what difficult backgrounds they come from. Apparently, girls as well as boys have to carry huge stones when working in the quarry. We had a chance to ask the children questions. So through the interpreter, I asked them what they felt about working in the quarry. He called a boy to come forward, and asked him the same question in Tamil. Immediately, the boy went silent, his shoulders dropped, and he dropped his head and looked down on the ground. He whispered, “It’s hard…” None of us understood Tamil, but we all understood his suffering.
After the QnA, we had some time to interact with the kids. I brought the bubble making set I bought in Thailand with me. Before long, I had a group of kids, sitting in a circle around me playing with bubbles. Now I knew I only had one bubble set, so there was a possibility that the kids would fight over it. So I created a system that whoever wanted to play had to sit in my circle, and they would have to take turns going in a clockwise direction. At first there was fighting, everyone wanted to blow into the bubble making tube. But then, I told them who could go next, and it would be in a clockwise direction. They got the rule, and soon after, instead of fighting, they could play orderly and instead of me telling them who could go next, they could regulate their turns by themselves within the group. I taught them how to share! They were so cute playing with the bubbles..blowing it into each other’s faces. I was happy that I brought laughter to them. They might have to work tomorrow and the day after. I wish I could change that, but I can’t. But at least for that few moments, the kids could be kids.

There, we met a volunteer teacher. She was German, with a Masters Degree in Product Design. I asked her how she decided to let go of everything at home and came solo to India to help the less fortunate. She said she was sick of western culture of consumerism and obsession with fashion, food, cars, money and she wanted to do something meaningful with her time. I really admired her courage. For a western lady to go alone to a place like India, let alone a small rural village, not anyone could do that. She must really believe in her cause and really determined. She said at first, people at home always said to her, “why cant you just stay in one place, why must you go everywhere all the time?” They didn’t understand her, and she didn’t understand them. She couldn’t make out how they could tolerate their mundane disconnected lives that consisted of nothing but going to work and maybe the occasional shopping and movie treat during the weekends. My sentiments exactly…
Before I left, I gave her my torchlight as a present because she said she stayed alone in the school without electricity. She lit candles to read at night because she keeps forgetting to buy a flashlight. I was appalled. So although it was my only flashlight, I was happy to hand it to her because she definitely needed it more than I did. And indirectly, I hope she sensed the support and encouragement I meant to show her.

The next day, we visited the Dalit Village. In the cast system in India, the lowest of the lowest class that is not even in the cast system, is the untouchables, or Dalit. They live in dirt huts with thatched roofs and a very low ceiling. We met a Dalit girl that was 18 yrs old with a 6 mth old baby. She brought us to her home and she showed us around. For most of them, their husbands spend all his money on drugs and alcohol. So life is hard for the families. So the organization came up with a micro financing programme which allows the women to borrow a minimal sum of maybe 2500 rupees to start a small business, and they could repay the money back slowly after their business has made money at a monthly interest of 2%. This programme had successfully helped many women become financially independent of their husbands. They even said through the success of the programme, they gained confidence and respect form their husbands. As you know, India is a male dominated society. So for a woman to achieve this is very, very admirable. In fact, Ride is not the only NGO that is supporting the cause of empowering women. Another organization, the Working Women’s Forum also focus on helping women stand on their feet. The organization’s main activity was focused on micro financing, and it was carried out in a much larger scale than the previous one. This organization works with Citibank for funds, and they even have their own bank to manage their member’s loans and savings. After studying about how banks work in school and seeing it for myself during my internship, I personally was interested in how banking could not only make the rich richer but also help the poor. And it was truly eye opening. We were able to interact with the beneficiaries of the programme and get first hand responses about how it had changed their lives. One woman said she gained self-confidence. Another said she gained the respect of her husband. It was a revealing moment how when the question was announced to them in Tamil, so many hands shot up and we had so many firm, enthusiastic answers form the women. This is the beginning of change, and we can only hope for the best.

Before leaving Chennai, I had the pleasure of meeting up with an old friend of my father’s—uncle Ramesh. Growing up, I’ve always heard his name mentioned over phone conversations between him and my Dad. And it was nice to finally meet him and his family. Walking into their 3-storey home, the contrast between the Dalit village home and this mansion really struck me. And when I told them about my experiences at the Dalit village, they didn’t seem very interested. I guess some things are left unsaid in the Indian society.

Overall, I was very satisfied with my time spent in India because not only did I cover some sights and exploration of the country on my own, I got to visit some NGOs and villages and gain a better understanding about how the different people in the country led their lives and how they are being helped. Not to mention the wonderful people I met. It’s the people you meet that make all the difference.

Now that India’s done, I’m looking forward to the 11 days on the ship before Egypt. We’re more than halfway into our 107-day journey, and I don’t know how I can go back home and resume my ‘normal’ life. I’m going to be restless all the time! This is truly an amazing experience, and I believe it’s only the beginning of many more amazing experiences.