Touching India

A Growing Legacy

2009-11-08T18:44:00.002-07:00

The first day we were here in India our hosts welcomed us with a formal meeting, songs, and a warm greeting. As the leader of our group, our hosts called me up to the front and had me introduce the rest of our group. They referred to me as “Pastor Michael from Aspen Grove.”

I’m not a pastor, but I didn’t correct our host because I wanted to be kind and culturally sensitive. In front of a group correcting him might be seen as an insult.
But as the week went on I kept getting promoted and my titles began to grow. Later I was introduced as “Pastor Michael, the Lead Pastor of Aspen Grove Community Church.” Then I was “Pastor Michael, who has been the Lead Pastor for five years at Aspen Grove.”

By the end of the week I was called up to give a greeting as, “The Reverend Michael, Lead Pastor of Aspen Grove.” If I stayed another week I’d probably be, “The Dr. Rev. Michael.”

Jon (who is a pastor at Aspen Grove) told me that if I stayed another week they’d start calling me the Pope.

Too bad I have to go home soon and just be Michael. It’s kind of fun to be Rev Michael. I guess he’s my Indian alter ego. Maybe I’ll get to be him again the next time we come back.

-MB

Time to Head Home

2009-11-08T18:40:00.001-07:00

Well we made it, almost. We're at the Bangalore airport waiting for our flight to London. It was a wonderful trip, and everyone on our team stayed healthy (mostly) the whole week, which is a miracle in itself.

There is still a lot to think about and I'm sure we'll have more posts in future days as we process all we've seen. Thanks to all of you for following the trip and for your prayers.

The Plans of Man

2009-11-07T11:53:00.003-07:00

On Thursday nothing went according to plan. As the leader of our team, I have spent months and hundreds of hours in preparation for this trip. I had many detailed conversations with contacts in India about what we would do and see in our time here. I worked through itineraries and arrangements. And it just didn’t work.

I’m trying hard to lead, but I’m learning that communication is hard and no matter what plans you make they will change. Here is what I mean. I talk to our Indian hosts, make plans, then communicate them to our team, only to have them change. And then change again. And then change again.

Conversations go something like this:

“I’d like to go to a village” “A village?” “Yes, a village.” “Great, we’ll go to a village.”

Then we get in the van and drive for four hours. And the van pulls into a silk factory.

Then we find it out the silk factory isn’t even open. Because the factory says today is a holiday.

You can’t make stuff like this up.

“What about the village?” I ask. “Oh, I thought you would like to go to this silk factory, so we went there instead. But it is closed. Maybe you’d like to see a palace and ride elephants now.”

“Umm, ok. Sure. Let’s ride some elephants.”

So we all get off the van, my team looking at me like I am crazy since I spent the morning prepping them to go to a village. Then we drive four hours back in crazy traffic with everyone exhausted—not having seen a village, a school (the original plan for the day) or a silk factory.

Another time we went to a restaurant. I ordered some food but when the dishes arrived they were all different from what I had ordered. When I asked about it the staff told me that I did not really want what I had ordered so they brought me something else instead.

I know Americans are task oriented and efficiency is king, and I know India is not like that. But man, did India stretch me on Thursday.

I guess God is trying to teach me something here. India is a lot like life. We make our plans and decide what we are going to do and how we are going to do it. Where we’ll live, what careers we’ll have, what our families will look like. We have pictures in our minds of how everything will work out.

But God often has a different plan in store. And in the end, if God wants us to ride elephants, we’ll ride elephants. No matter what we have planned.

--MB

Forty Ways to Wear a Salwar

2009-11-07T10:52:00.003-07:00

We needed to let off some steam last night. Here's the result:

A Dream Realized

2009-11-07T10:39:00.006-07:00

Yesterday was one of the hardest days I’ve had in years. Today was one of the best. I guess that’s how things work in India. High highs and low lows.

One year ago we stood in Dharmapuri, a town in southern India, and met a man named Tangaraj and his wife Amooda. He was working at a small, humble clinic that helped Dalits with AIDS.

I’m not sure there is a more ostracized group in the world than untouchables with AIDS. I once visited an AIDS hospital in the US and was given a mask to wear to separate myself from the patients there. I remember feeling sorry for the AIDS patients, that even the few visitors who came to see them separated themselves with masks. How much worse would it be to be an untouchable, told you are unclean and lower than an animal from birth, and also have AIDS? Their untouchable relatives also have cast these people out of their families.

One year ago, Tangaraj told us of his dream to build an AIDS hospital and showed us some land and a pile of bricks where he dreamed of a facility that could help the sickest of the sick. His dreams touched my heart.

When we returned and shared this experience, Emily and I met with leaders, made proposals, communicated with reps in India, and spent many, many hours in prayer for this sacred acre in Dharmapuri. We asked our church to give a major financial gift to build the hospital. Our church agreed to send $20,000 to help make this dream a reality.

Today I got to stand with Tangaraj in front of the completed hospital. It was beautiful. To some, it would just look like a building. But to me it was one of the most moving experiences of my life. And I can’t possibly articulate how wonderful it was to be there with Emily, Tangaraj, and our team.

-MB

Some photos

2009-11-07T10:10:00.009-07:00

Dharmapurri gathering for patients being treated by the clinic.
Ashley, Austin, Gretchen and Ted handing out monthly nutritional supplements.
We paid the extra 50 rupees.

The Palace in Mysore

A Network Could Not Be Found

2009-11-05T09:30:00.003-07:00

Tomorrow morning we go to a remote village - to visit the AIDS clinic we were at one year ago. I'm not confident of any internet access at all. We'll be sure to document our thoughts and post them as soon as we are able.

An Unexpected Holiday and an Elephant

2009-11-05T09:15:00.002-07:00

Today we were supposed to visit a school. Instead we rode an elephant. India brings the concept of flexibility and adaptability to a new level. In the end, it was good for us. Our Indian friends really really wanted to show us their history - and we agreed. Mysore doesn’t look that far away from Bangalore on the map, but after more than six hours in the car I noticed the tiny print that read “Not to Scale.”

We walked through an austentacious castle and piled onto a really tired looking elephant. It was fun, but the real gem of our day was the incredible story we heard from a new Indian friend. I’m too tired do this incredible story proper justice, so I’m going to bullet point it for you. (His name either sounded like Submarine or Subaru so I’m going with Submaru for now. I’m really bad at names.)

Submaru was diagnosed with stage 4 terminal brain cancer at age 15. He was given three months to live. He asked God to give him two years. Duing this storytelling, Submaru whipped out a pink hospital ID card from his briefcase that listed out his diagnosis. (Why do you need an ID card listing your terminal illness on it? That is India for you.)
He went back to the hospital a week later and was cancer free. It was medically inexplainable.
Mysore is another one of India's hubs for prostitution, and many unwed mothers have babies to use them as money-making beggars. Per Submaru, parents use their young children to beg for money as long as they are cute enough to produce. After the children get older, they are told they will no longer be supported by their parent(s). If the children refuse to leave the house, their eyes are cut out - so passersby will have pity and give them more money because they are blind. (I saw Slumdog Millionaire, and thought this was only shock-value screenwriting.)
It is nine years later, and Submaru now pastors one of the only christian churches in Mysore. His congregants include over 150 children whose stories are like the one just described, and beyond belief. His prayer is to build a building for a church and for an orphanage, so that these children can be loved and fed. He is literally the only person in their lives who is telling them they have value in this world.
Submaru is genuinely grateful for every day that he has. His eyes welled up with tears as he told us his story and said that he does not understand why these children have to suffer as they do. He prays that he could take their place - and that they would be set free.

We were blessed to be able to meet Submaru. I'm still processing yesterday, so tonight I'm just reporting the facts. More commentary later.

It wasn't such a bad elephant ride after all.

Teletransport and Really Big Problems

2009-11-05T09:13:00.001-07:00

I woke up this morning wishing I were somewhere else. Anywhere else – and preferably by teletransport because I am tired of long car rides. I was sick of India’s stench, exhausted by the constant disorder, and worn down from the enormity of problems that are too big for me to fix.

Yesterday was a hard day. It was emotionally draining and physically uncomfortable. We visited three slums, one of which was home to a young slum pastor, his wife, and their three children. They rented a one-room shack for 300 rupees a month – that is about $6 USD. It was unbelievably cramped – the size of an average office elevator. Five people slept in, lived in, cooked in and stored their belongings in a space the same size as an American closet. Their youngest child was 2 months old and I wondered aloud just how they found the space in this shack to reproduce. Michael, Ted, Ashley, Austin, and I were invited in and left our shoes at the door.

The seven of us were smashed inside this house like a scene from a circus clown car – except it wasn’t funny. Dinner was cooking on the stove and there was no ventilation. My eyes burned as smoke blew directly into my face. Have you ever sat around the wrong side of the campfire with the smoke right at you? You’d just scoot your chair over a few feet - yet none of us could move. We sat still for 20 minutes and listened to this man talk about his wish for a better life for his family; yet he also told us of all the things he was grateful for. He longed for a better job that paid him fairly and allowed him to feed his family. He prayed for a larger home and for good health.

If I wanted to sound like someone with a good heart, I’d tell you that I had a wonderful time of fellowship and that I prayed and loved this man well. But I’d be lying. From the moment I put my bare foot on the dirty, musty floor of his home, I wished it was time to leave. The physical discomfort was easy to identify. I was tired, cramped and my eyes and throat were burning.

I struggle to reconcile my emotional response. My American instinct was to think of this man as a brother – the same as me. All men are created equal, right? Sure, he has the same organs as I do, the same heart. But the differences in our life experiences created a rift that was too big for me to cross.

Too big of a problem for me to make sense of today, anyhow.

Slumdogs

2009-11-04T08:56:00.006-07:00

We spent the day visiting three local slums, meeting people in their homes and praying with them. The sheer number of people we saw today and the conditions they live in are difficult to describe.

It was truly a visual and emotional overload. Tonight at our team meeting we tried to process what we saw, but it is hard to wrap our heads and hearts around what we witnessed.

At one point a family invited us into their home and five of us stood in a room only a few feet wide and no more than eight feet long. It was so cramped that we could not stand without touching each other. The room was filled with smoke from cooking dinner on an open fire in the room. There was no ventilation and it was very difficult to breathe. It was hot, cramped, and uncomfortable, even for a few minutes. Then the father told us that five people LIVE in this home.

None of us knew what to say (other than "thank you for inviting us into your home"). The five of us could barely stand in a space that five people live in? In America we'd say this room was too small for one person. College dorm rooms are much larger. But here in India a whole family crams themselves into this space every day.

And this was not just one family. We saw row after row after row of homes like this. Home after home, as if the groups of homes would never stop.

One family asked for prayers for their health because many in their home were sick. With such a small living space and everyone in such close proximity disease spreads quickly. Add to that no clean water or sanitation, and no access to medicine or a clinic, and it is easy to see why everyone gets sick so easily. Here disease kills so many from illnesses that we would consider minor in the US, sicknesses that could easily be prevented or treated. But for the Dalits of India even a cold can be life threatening.

The sheer numbers were overwhelming today. There were SO many hurting, sick, broken people. I've never seen anything like this in my life. We want to do something. We want to help and make a difference. But with so many and such need, it's hard to imagine a solution to this problem. The poverty is simply mindblowing.

Our team is doing well, but we are all exhausted physically and emotionally. I'm now sitting in the dark on battery power because the power just went out where we are staying, which seems like a fitting end to a day that has been so draining.

I'm not quite sure what to do with today. It was overwhelming to say the least. There certainly are no easy answers. But then again, I sure didn't come to India for easy answers.

-MB

Getting Our Groove On

2009-11-04T08:38:00.004-07:00

The ladies all got some new threads including some fantastic drawstring "MC Hammer" pants. Don't they look lovely?

Our hosts here in Bangalore have been so warm and friendly and showed hospitality like no other. They welcomed our arrival with this sign, which read "Aspen Groove Community Church."

Love it. Scott, what do you think about making the name change official?

Quotes from India

2009-11-03T20:20:00.002-07:00

We’ve been in India for twenty-four hours, and it’s just like I remembered it. Our plane touched down yesterday just before dawn. The darkness that colored the landscape created an odd stillness in a country where chaos reigns. As the sun rose, our luggage found us and we made our way through customs. Except for the customs agent repeatedly asking Austin whether his Project Cure boxes contained dozens of laptops for resale, we arrived without a hitch. We were all surprisingly well rested and our Indian friends were waiting for us outside of the gate.

We spent the day settling in, getting (re)acquainted with our hosts, and eating meal after meal. By my calculation, we ate 10 meals in the previous 48-hour period. (Lunch, Dinner, Dinner, Breakfast, Dinner, Snack, Dinner, Breakfast, Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner.)

This is my second time in India. I packed my previously formulated expectations for what is normal in this country, yet I find myself discovering India’s surprises all over again through the eyes of my teammates. And It’s quite fun.

“I just don’t understand why there is an enormous hole in the back side of all of these buildings.”

“Is that a cow – walking in the road? What is it doing there?”

“What is that smell?

“We just ran a motorcycle off the road! Why aren’t there more car accidents?”

“We almost ran over that mother and her baby.”

“I didn’t learn the ‘shake the object in front of the consumer until they buy it’ technique in my marketing class.”

“Shut up!! You have maple syrup?”

And, after stuffing our faces – “It’s a good thing we have these huge drawstring pants to wear.”

We're off to visit the slums this morning. More later.

Halfway

2009-11-02T03:18:00.002-07:00

We just touched down in London and are getting ready to spend the next few hours roaming around Heathrow. We're still on the plane and, in the words of the man next to us: "We are waiting for the bloody bus." Then, we'll head down the lift to our gate.

Cheers!

Rocky Mountain High Fructose Corn Syrup

2009-10-31T21:12:00.006-06:00

Our bags were packed and it was time for some fun. We made the most of our last day in Colorado by consuming (and obtaining) as much chocolate as possible.

Here are a few parting shots:

Warp speed

2009-10-30T15:27:00.006-06:00

The first malaria pill has been taken. The packing has begun. I'm moving at warp speed in order to get things done. We are leaving Denver in exactly forty eight hours.

We had a great team dinner last week and gorged ourselves on Indian food. Both our tastebuds and our hearts are ready to depart!

I anticipate the moment I board the plane, buckle my seatbelt, and can breathe again. There are some unknowns ahead, but this much I know: The next week and a half is guaranteed to be an adventure.

And I love a good adventure.

Preparations

2009-10-18T21:37:00.003-06:00

Each new month seems to sneak up on me. I'm doing my best not to let this next one catch me by surprise, but by all accounts, have not been very successful. November 1 is India departure day, and it keeps getting closer.

I was either born with, or subsequently developed, the ability to keep rather accurate mental lists. At any moment in time, I have a running mental list for each area of my life that needs listing. Currently, India is at the top of the list of the areas that need listing. (Yes, I have a list for that too.)

It's not that I don't want November 1st to arrive. It's just that I'd like to have all of my check marks in a row before 11/1 appears. Which reminds me of a few more things to add to my list...

Sisters and Bargains

2009-07-24T21:00:00.005-06:00

I love a good bargain. There are two choices on the Indian Visa application: (1) six month visa - $73 or (2) 10 year visa - $163. When I filled out that form a year ago, I had never been to India and had no idea if a return trip would be in our future plans. The innate shopper in me was thinking in the "cost-per-use" formula - and the choice was easy. I checked the 10-year box on both M and my applications, thinking I might someday thank myself.

Someday has arrived sooner than anticipated. A lot has happened in the last year! (We'll catch up sometime soon.) The end result is that on November 1, we're headed back to India with eight friends from AGCC. And, we're bringing my sister along. (Sorry, mom.)

Healing powers of Hope

2008-11-21T09:08:00.024-07:00

Seems like the best was saved for last. Our final day in India brought us to an AIDS clinic in Karnataka, one of India's most highly infected states. Many of our experiences in India have been difficult to put into words, but this one tops my list. Our visit to the AIDS clinic has not left my mind since we've returned - and I've mulled over the best way to write about it. Though I'm still not entirely satisfied with it, here's my best effort at capturing the way this visit has forever impacted me and the lens through which I see the world.

I am familiar with the the AIDS epidemic in Africa, and the startling statistics that accompany it. It gets a lot of press. Yet India, too, has a problem with AIDS that surpasses understanding. It is estimated that 0.3% of India's population is infected; and while this may seem small in percentage, it is large in numbers when you insert India's massive population into the equation. In a recent publication, USAID projected that between 2 million and 3.1 million are living with HIV/AIDS in India.

Karnataka is a state in southern India that is occupied by over 2400 miles of state highway and numerous truck stops. The transient nature of the truck driving profession and the desperation of Indian women to meet the basic financial needs of their families creates the perfect storm. Prostitution in this area is thriving and the AIDS virus is spreading at a pace that is difficult to contain. A few years ago, The New York Times ran a series of lengthy but revealing articles highlighting this exact problem, and in a way that is much richer than I have been able to articulate on this blog. Click here to read one of them. (Turns out that you have to sign up for a free account to read the article, but it'll be worth it, I promise.) I was moved as I read these articles in 2005, not knowing that I would be setting foot in this very area three years down the road.

Just like our other days in India, our team was not given a lot of information about what the day would entail. (And often, this proved to be a good thing.) If you are like me, you think "AIDS clinic" and a hospital or a doctor's office comes to mind. This is what I was expecting. After a few hours of driving, we pulled up to a tiny 20 ft x 20 ft brick and cement structure with a roof constructed of tin and plastic. Outside, two women in saris sat at a tv-tray sized table with a pile of notebooks beside them, reminiscent of the "blue books" I had to purchase in college to write my exam essay answers in. Each person who came to the clinic had his or her own book, which contained information on when and how the AIDS virus was contracted, and documented each visit. Crammed inside the building was a tailoring school and a medical supply room. The medical supply room was filled with packages of immune boosting vitamins and drugs that are handed out to patients as they visit the clinic each month. As the clinic has no beds, it is only able to provide basic support for those who already know they are infected with HIV or AIDS.

This very basic support is a lifeline for Dalits and other Indians who do not have any other hope of receiving medical treatment. This was illustrated by a horrific story shared with us as we toured the facility. Days before our visit, the four bodies of a local family were found in their home. The father of this family had recently required emergency care relating to an accident, and was told that he had the AIDS virus. His wife was encouraged to get tested and found that she, too, was HIV positive. The family was had no money and feared the iminent death that lay ahead of them. In a twisted attempt to control their fate, they poisoned the family dinner and murdered their two small children and killed themselves. They had no hope. In an act which seems heinous to us, these parents made what they felt to be the only honorable choice for their family.

This humble clinic has created a ray of light that cut through the darkness faced by these families. I saw undeniable evidence of the healing power of hope. Many patients only come to the clinic once a month, but say that these visits are what keep them alive. Their spirits are healed in the knowledge that someone cares for their situation, that they are not alone, and in the experience of human kindness from strangers, even as they are shunned by their own people.

The clinic is empowering the Indian Dalits to help themselves. Young men and women with AIDS were training to be counselors, nurses and staff members. There are amazing things happening at this clinic, yet there is still much work to be done. The dreams the staff have for this ministry are so big that to me, they don't seem possible. Yet my realm of possibility is limited by my experiences; the minds of these men and women have been exposed to so much that they are able to dream far beyond the walls I enclose my thoughts in.

Our visit concluded with a group prayer and a chorus. Surrounded by our team, the clinic workers, and local AIDS patients, we came together and sang "Give Thanks." who were praising their Savior for their many blessings. That scene will remain in my mind and my heart for the rest of my life. The off-key notes of these voices expressing their thanks was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

Give thanks with a grateful heart

Give thanks to the holy one

Give thanks because He's given Jesus Christ, his son

Give thanks

And now, let the weak say "I am strong"

Let the poor say "I am rich"

Because of what the Lord has done for us

Give thanks

In this holiday season, I am filled with emotion as I attempt to quantify the things I have to be thankful for. They are beyond measure; I cannot deny the magnitude of my blessings. So, rather then deny them, I am choosing to embrace the responsibility that accompanies them.

Click here to read USAID's September 2008 Profile of AIDS in India.

Click here to read about the AIDS epidemic in the Indian state of Karnataka.

Responding to India

2008-11-19T05:34:00.006-07:00

In the face of all that we saw in India over the last two weeks, I find myself with two responses:

1) The problem of the untouchables in India is so overwhelming, so huge, so incredible. This is so much bigger than I thought, larger than I ever could have imagined.

2) After seeing what I've seen, I must do SOMETHING. I cannot go back to my life like it was before. I have to respond.

The Dalit Freedom Network, the group that sent us on the trip, is choosing to do something. They can't fix the entire nation of India, and they can't correct all of the wrongs that are being done to 250 million people. But instead of being overwhelmed by the problem, they are choosing to do something.

DFN is concentrating its efforts on building schools to empower, equip, and educate the Dalits and make sustainable change. We had the opportunity to visit four of these schools, see how their operations work, and play with the kids that go there.

At every stop we were treated like royalty. On Tuesday, after driving for five hours by van to a remote village in Southern India, we arrived to a welcoming ceremony fit for kings. 470 children, dressed in uniforms and standing at attention in military rows, greeted us with a procession of flags. These people that have absolutely nothing provided us with seats on honor on a stage in front of the school and placed garlands of beautiful and fragrant marigolds and roses around our necks.

After our welcoming ceremony we talked and played with the children, who eagerly ran to us with wide smiles and open arms. "Good morning sir, what is your name?" "What is your father's name?" "How do you like India?" "What is your favorite Indian dish?"

These children are learning English, which will open doors and future possibilities for them for

jobs and a future. Some of the children I met told me they wanted to become doctors, lawyers, and engineers, futures they couldn't even dream of without these schools.

An administrator of the school may have stated it best when he said, "There is a saying in our country that when you open a school you close a prison." By getting an education these children will have opportunities to change deep patterns of abuse and oppression and provide for their families.

Little girls who would have been sold into prostitution can now work and earn money to provide for their families. Little boys who would may have led lives of crime can now find jobs.

And the joy and excitement of these children was heart warming. I taught some boys how to play baseball, which they had never seen before, and they taught me cricket. We did arts and crafts and even had a rousing rendition of "If You're Happy and You Know It" with 60 first graders.

DFN has built 82 schools throughout India, and has a goal of building 1,000. These schools are radically changing an entire culture, and are working to free an oppressed people.

Traveling to India has been an eye-opening experience. The extent of the poverty here is mind boggling. But these schools are bringing hope, and they are an inspiration.

I can't change India. But if I can help build one of these schools, I can do something. And after seeing India with my own eyes, I have no choice but to do something.

--MB

We're HOME!

2008-11-18T16:48:00.005-07:00

My own bed and a hot shower has never felt so good. After four flights and over 30 hours of travel, we finally set foot back in colorful Colorado. Our boys were quite happy to see us and we're adjusting back to the routine. Also relieved to see us was my amazing sister Gretchen, who looked after Will and Jack for 12 days. Yeah, she pretty much rocks. Thank you G - we love you!

A few blogging items of note:

We'll be catching up on some of our travel experiences over the next week or two, so keep checking for new posts.
Now that we have full use of technology to us again, I've added some pictures and videos to our older posts - so scroll on down!

Eating in India

2008-11-18T09:25:00.002-07:00

Before this trip I'd been to an Indian restaurant only once, and most would call me a picky eater. Well, after a few days here I now eat just about anything that is placed in front of me.

I don't even ask what it is that I am eating anymore. I just smile and shovel it in. Most meals have rice, naan (Indian bread), some form of curry sauce with either chicken or tofu, and vegetables. This is pretty much the same for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Every meal. Every day. We brought some snacks with us from America, but they were long gone in the first couple days. As soon as I get home I am going to order a big, fat, juicy bacon cheeseburger. With a large chocolate milkshake. Oh man, that sounds good.

The water is not safe to drink, so we have been gulping bottled water constantly. Emily had to throw her toothbrush away when she forgot and ran it under the tap. Besides the water, most fruits are not safe (unless you can peel them), and we were told not to eat anything sold by street vendors. So are options are limited.

The process of eating is also different, and I've tried my best to fit in. Indians don't use utensils, and eat all food with their right hands. In a land without toilet paper, your left hand is used for "other purposes" if you catch my drift. So you really don't want to use your left hand to eat with. If you forget and use your left hand in a restaurant (as I did once) you get a few stares. It really grosses the Indians out.

The real test of skill is learning to eat rice with one hand. After much practice I just about have it down. You make your hand into a "C" shape and then gather the rice in clumps. You then use your thumb like a shovel to scoop the rice up on your fingers and then take the back of your thumb and push the rice into your mouth. I'm told you know you are good when your hands are clean below the knuckle. I'm not there yet, but I'm getting close.

I'm looking forward to teaching my four-year old son how to eat with his fingers when I get home. Not sure that will be very popular with his mother.

--MB

How to Drive in India

2008-11-17T15:57:00.005-07:00

Want to get your heart rate going? Hire a driver to take you on a tour of India. We spent a lot of time in the car getting from here to there and I was able to get acquainted with traffic law, India style. Let's just say that driving in the US is going to seem awfully dull.

Here is my assessment of the Indian driving rules, based on my recent brushes with death:

Honk at all times. (He who is the loudest wins.)
Do not use your turn signal.
When you see pedestrians or livestock, speed up. (Even better, try to brush their backs with your rearview mirror)
Do not hit a cow.
Pass as many cars/trucks as you can.
To pass: cross into oncoming traffic to see if passing is "safe." If so, veer into opposite lane, flash your lights and honk (see #1), wait until you can see words on the front licence plate of the other vehicle, and then swerve back into your own lane. If you are lucky, you will have passed the car in front of you.
Queue? Don't even think about it.
If you see a bump, speed up.
Do not wear a seatbelt. (Often this is not a concern, as there are no seatbelts)

I tried to capture the experience on video, and here's my best result. Please note that I dug my elbows into the seat and kept as steady as humanly possible during filming. If the video makes you a little queasy, then I think I've achieved my goal of sharing the true experience with you. Also, I am smack in the middle of our van, so when you see the dotted white line, half of our car is on the opposite side of the road. Enjoy.

Well Suited

2008-11-15T18:08:00.001-07:00

Before we left, I wrote about the Dalits and how the women are the 'Dalits of the Dalits.' At the OM campus in Hyderabad, we were privileged to meet the women of the Lydia project and hear their stories. Upon retirement, an american women named Melanie came to India with a dream of the 'Lydia Project'. Her career had been in costume design for major US productions. She moved to the slums of Hyderabad and brought her sewing machine. (She was alone (!) and says in hindsight - "Uhh, NOT a smart idea"). But, God took care of her and she met Ruby, a young Dalit mother. Ruby was married at 14 to a husband who abused her. She had no skills and no hope.

Melanie shared her first meeting of Ruby -- Ruby was laughing at her attempts to learn the Indian laundering methods. (To me, it looks like beating clothes against a rock) Melanie befriended her and taught her how to sew. An Indian women sewing can provide for her entire family. Imagine how this changed Ruby's life! She can provide for her children and has a purpose. Ruby is now an expert seamstress and is teaching tailoring to other Dalit women. I could, quite literally, see the hope in her eyes.

I was moved by the change in Ruby's life and how she was being empowered by a simple thing such as sewing. It is a profession that we don't hold in high regard in our country. But to Ruby it is quite noble, and more than she dreamed of. Often I think that I do not have a skill to teach that would be useful to help these people. But, if Melanie can use sewing to change lives, surely there is a place for me to make a difference. Surely there is a place for you. Maybe it does not mean traveling to India, but it is up to each one of us to find it.

Technical Difficulties

2008-11-15T10:07:00.002-07:00

As you have noticed, our blogging has been rather sparce. Fear not, we are alive and well! (Note: Some of us "weller" than others, but all still smiling.) We have LOTS to catch up on. As I write, I am sitting at a borrowed computer and getting eaten alive by mosquitos. Conditions have been a bit more rustic than I was anticipating, making 'live' blogging impossible. We'll be catching up in the week ahead. We depart Bangalore tomorrow afternoon (Sunday) and begin the long haul home. Stay tuned.

The Midnight Train to Bangalore

2008-11-13T09:17:00.007-07:00

We apologize that we have not written for a few days. We have been traveling through much of India and have not been able to use the Internet. Even now I am borrowing a friend's computer as mine will not connect, so I will have to upload pictures later. All is well and we are safe. Two of our team members are sick, but they are on antibiotics and seem to be doing better. We would appreciate you thinking of them, as we still have several days and many difficult travels ahead of us.

There is so much to tell that I hope we will be able to have ample time to write soon. For now I'd like to tell briefly of our journey last night from Hyderabad to Bangalore on train. I'll try to tell our story, but I know no words will do that trip justice.

The experience was truly indescribable. We boarded the train at 6 pm and traveled for 13 hours. Describing out accomidations as "close quarters" really doesn't do it justice. There were six of us from our team and two Indian strangers in our compartment that was essentially three sets of triple-stacked bunk beds. The space that the eight of us slept in was possibly one-third the size of our bedroom at home, if that large. Let's just say we all know each other very well after that experience. I wish I had a video of all of us trying to climb into our beds, because it was certainly a sight to be seen (though some in our party are glad there is no video, because they'd rather forget it!).

There is much crime on the train and so we were all very thankful that we arrived safely and with all of our bags. We had to wake ourselves early in the morning and get our things ready, because the train stopped for only two minutes at our stop, and we had to unload 24 passengers from our group and all of our suitcases in that time, which was also a sight to be seen. We decided this needs to be an event on the next Amazing Race--with team members forced to unload many heavy suitcases and help each other off the train after just waking up from a bumpy, crammed 13-hour train ride--all in less than two minutes. Somehow we pulled it off and no one was left behind.

None of us slept much last night, but we were happy to be met by friends at the train station who took us to our rooms for showers and naps because we all desperately needed them. It was quite a night. Sleeping in an actual bed tonight will be paradise.

--MB

The Pipe Village

2008-11-10T09:22:00.007-07:00

We visited a place today called "the pipe village," so named because families have created homes for themselves out of rejected concrete pipes from a nearby factory. One mother proudly showed us inside her home and pointed out her kitchen area, sleeping area, and closet--all inside a cylinder that was too small for me to stand up in.

A family of 12 lives in one of these pipes. There is no electricity or running water anywhere in the village, and the 45 families that live here eat only rice for every meal. They said that once a month they might get to have chicken with their rice as a special treat.

These people are Dalits, the untouchables of India. They are the outcasts of society and are told that because of sin in a previous life they are worse than animals and must serve the upper castes. They are taught to believe that it would have been better if they had never been born.

We saw one woman cleaning animal feces off of the road. We're told this is one of the only jobs that Dalit people can have. When the sewers get clogged some Dalit men are lowered into the sewers to clean them with their bare hands, human waste coming up to their hips.

We didn't solve these problems today. But we did spend some time in this village, we played with their children, sang songs, and held their babies. Despite their extreme poverty, the people of the Pipe Village were joyful. They were excited to see us and gladly posed for pictures. They were especially excited to see these pictures on the backs of our digital cameras.

It amazed and convicted me to think how often I complain about "money being tight" or say that I am bored, yet this community with almost nothing besides their pipes warmly welcomed us and smiled from ear to ear just to be with us.

I'm sure there is a lesson in that for all of us.

--MB

Indian Clothes

2008-11-10T09:00:00.003-07:00

Here we are in our new traditional Indian outfits.

Some Photos

2008-11-09T17:15:00.008-07:00

At the market, and all shopped out

Breakfast (yes, breakfast) upon arrival.

Shelley, thrilled to finally be at our hotel.

Loading up our bags.

Leaving the airport.

Sensory Overload

2008-11-08T17:56:00.004-07:00

Talk about culture shock. Walking onto the streets of Hyderabad is an experience that engages all of your senses.

First there is the smell. It is difficult to define, largely because it is a mixture of so many smells: raw sewage in the streets, incense candles, burning trash, smog and exhaust, fruit stands, and burning coal. It's hard to get a good breath of air on the streets. Our room smells distinctly of moth balls, placed in the drains to hide to smell of the sewers.

Then there are the sounds. The most common noise is that of honking horns, which is almost constant. Cars, motorcycles, taxis, and bikes swerve through crowds of pedestrians beeping all along the way. Our guide told us that the louder and more frequent honks mean business, and the others are just to make sure you know the vehicle is there. You hear conversations in multiple languages, children crying, and vendors yelling at each passer-by, trying to sell a belt, a pair of sunglasses, or a map of India.

And the sights are a thing to behold. There are more than 1 billion people living in India, and you notice the difference in population right away. There are so just so many people everywhere. Little children with no shoes--and sometimes no clothes at all-- are running through the streets, weaving through traffic, with no parents in sight. The streets are stuffed with pedestrians, young, old, male, female, dressed in traditional garb or in blue jeans and t-shirts. There are stray dogs running around and even an occasional cow walking down the street. Crowds move in every direction, everyone constantly bumping into each other, without any sense of "right of way." In some sense it is like walking in New York. Or maybe it's like walking to a sporting event from a crowded parking lot. But there is no special event going on. This is just "normal" here.

There are no crosswalks, and crossing the street is perilous at best. I need to capture this on video to give a fair picture. The basic rule of thumb here is that once you decide that you want to cross the street you just walk in front of moving traffic and expect the cars to stop. It seems like insanity at first, but it's just how it works. The only rule is that once you start walking you have to commit and keep going because the cars drive defensively and plan around you walking through traffic. The worst thing you can do is to start walking and then timidly stop or go backwards.

India is a captivating place. So many sights, sounds, and smells. It is repulsive, and yet somehow beautiful at the same time. It truly is another world. I do love it here.

-- this post written by Michael

A Wrinkle in Time

2008-11-08T16:37:00.004-07:00

In all, our trip over here went amazingly smoothly. We landed in Hyderabad at 5 am local time, just about 24 hours after we departed from DIA. The entire traveling experience seemed like a pause in the time/space continuum, as day, night, and clocks had no meaning. Anyone remember Madeline L'Engle?

Most of us slept for a good portion of the flight to Dubai, thanks to the wonder drug, Ambien. And, if you can believe it, they actually still serve hot meals on United Airlines. (I promise, it's true!) I was sitting next to a window at the back of a plane; which, for most of the flight across the Atlantic wasn't much of a perk. Our flight path did, however, take us across Iraq, and directly over Baghdad; M and I saw the sun setting over this war-torn city. Baghdad wasn't quite the metropolis that I had imagined - and urban sprawl was non-existant. Dubai, on the other hand, was this ENORMOUS city that was glowing from the sky. Before I saw the city, I could tell it was quickly approaching from from the groups of oil rigs and boats chillin' in the Persian Gulf.

The Dubai airport screamed "oil money." (The kind with lots of dollar signs, like the expensive restaurant in Zagat's. $$$$$$) We flew out on Emirates Air, whose new terminal had opened in October 2008. It was complete with gardens, grocery stores, an Irish Pub, duty-free shopping, Starbucks, Burger King, Dunkin Donuts, and much more. M and I had heavy lids, and stopped by the new Starbucks for a java. Two incorrect beverages and $15 (USD) later, we were on our way to our gate. I guess that oil money didn't make its way to our pockets.

Emirates Air was a throwback to the old days of air travel. It reminded me of the way airlines and stewardesses were glorified in the movie "Catch Me If You Can." The highlight of Emirates Air was the AMAZING in-seat entertainment systems. Complete with hundreds of on demand movies, seat-to-seat calling, and video games there wasn't anything not to like. In fact, I was kind of sad when we got the "prepare for landing" announcement. (I wasn't done with my game of Tetris just yet.)

And then, we arrived in India...

We're Here!

2008-11-08T03:52:00.002-07:00

After more than 24 hours of travel, we've arrived in Hyderabad. We're safe, we're tired and we are going out to the market. Will post more later.

Blastoff

2008-11-06T20:00:00.000-07:00

The time has come. The bags are packed - and checked to our final destination. We've made it to DC, and we're off to Dubai. This is what I'm hoping to see when we touch down (a full 13 hours from now).

Godspeed. More later...

Introducing...

2008-11-06T14:11:00.012-07:00

Back row (Jeanne, Sarah, Emily, Michael, Shelley, Vern)
Front row (Vicki and Melanie)

I posed the same six questions to each of our team members. Get to know us a little better, and read the responses below.

Michael-
What are three adjectives that best describe you? patient, optimistic, level headed
Where were you born? Dallas, TX
What is your favorite cartoon character? Thomas the Tank Engine
Name one special talent you have. Raking leaves
Why are you going to India? To bring a little hope and light
How will this trip change you? I hope it will change the way I look at the world

Melanie-
What are three adjectives that best describe you? Friendly, intelligent and sassy.
Where were you born? Houston, TX
What is your favorite cartoon character? The Lemur King in Madagascar
Name one special talent you have. Ear wiggling
Why are you going to India? To see how other people live.
How will this trip change you? It will open my eyes to the pain of the world

Shelley-
What are three adjectives that best describe you? funny, discerning, caring
Where were you born? Monongahela, PA
What is your favorite cartoon character? The Road Runner
Name one special talent you have. Getting knots out of chains
Why are you going to India? Just to be there again
How will this trip change you? I don't know, I'm open to whatever that change is

Vern-
What are three adjectives that best describe you? Irish, optimistic, curious
Where were you born? Manchester, England
What is your favorite cartoon character? Popeye
Name one special talent you possess.Make knock-out Chicken Vegetable Soup
Why are you going to India? To meet with workers and see if there is a vision
How will this trip change you? It will deepen my passion

Sarah-
What are three adjectives that best describe you? Funny, outgoing and kind.
Where were you born? Shattuck, OK
What is your favorite cartoon character? the Fantasia Hippopotamus
Name one special talent you possess. Random bursting into song.
Why are you going to India? To love on children
How will this trip change you? I will become responsible for what I see. I pray that I am up to the task.

Vicki-
What are three adjectives that best describe you? optimistic, fun-loving, curious
Where were you born? St. Joseph, Missouri
What is your favorite cartoon character? the cows in The Far Side
Name one special talent you have. Facilitating
Why are you going to India? To test my talents in a foreign culture
How will this trip change you? Will make me less introspective

Jeanne-
What are three adjectives that best describe you? Curious, compassionate and intellectual.
Where were you born? North Platte, Nebraska
What is your favorite cartoon character? Babar.
Name one special talent you possess. Writing.
Why are you going to India? My curiosity got the best of me
How will this trip change you? Make me more outward directed

E-
What are three adjectives that best describe you? Adventerous, non-conforming, and a little bit clumsy.
Where were you born? Ridgewood, NJ
What is your favorite cartoon character? Calvin and Hobbes
Name one special talent you possess. I can fit my whole fist in my mouth.
Why are you going to India? See blog post entitled "250 Million Outcastes"
How will this trip change you? I'll keep you posted on this one.

Missing is our fearless leader, Debbie...I'll post her answers later.

Packing Packing Packing

2008-11-04T21:24:00.008-07:00

I'm a packing fool. I've been thinking about what to pack for the last six weeks. Now, it's time for the rubber to meet the road. In my attempt to strike the perfect balance between packing light and packing smart, I'm mulling over each addition to my suitcase. My family has a long tradition of Eagle Scouts, and I can't seem to get the "Be Prepared" motto out of my head. I like to be the "go-to girl", and be able to say things like "A bike lock? Why yes, I can help you out. I have an extra one right here in my suitcase."

I've googled international packing tips, researched Indian plug adapters, analyzed the backpacks of Amazing Race contestants, quizzed my globe trotting friends and made pages of packing lists. At present, my suitcase is mostly full of crave-satisfying "American" food, candy and shoes. And, of course, travel Connect Four. (Who leaves the country without a good board game?)

I have a lot left to do. Now, if I could only find that extra bike lock...

250 Million Outcastes

2008-11-03T10:10:00.015-07:00

You've probably read about India's growth and economic prosperity, as it seems to get a lot of press. This rapid growth is positively affecting many in India; however, there is a striking contrast between those in India experiencing this boom and those living in unimaginable poverty.

There is an India that does not often make headlines, and for good reason. India operates on a three-thousand year old Hindi caste system. A person is born into his or her caste, and remains there until death. Only a life of good deeds will move that person to a higher caste in his or her next life. At the bottom of the caste system are a group called the Dalits. The Dalits, also known as untouchables, are excluded from the formal caste hierarchy.

Discrimination against a Dalit is outlawed by India's constitution, but this legislated equality does not translate into reality. This is especially pronounced in India's rural areas. More shocking, is that the Dalits comprise 25% of India's population -- an estimated TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY MILLION people. To put this in perspective, the current US population is quoted at 303 Million.

An Indian Dalit faces hardships at every level. Dalits are denied access to basic services, such as education, employment, food, water, shelter and safety. Dalits are shunned, insulted, banned from temples and higher caste homes, made to eat and drink from separate utensils in public places, and—in extreme but not uncommon cases—are raped, burned, lynched, and gunned down. Human Rights Watch recorded 100,000 such atrocities in 2006. Seventy percent of Dalits live below the poverty line. Abuses of Dalit women and children are the most heartbreaking. The human trafficking industry is thriving in India - there are upwards of 1 Million Indian children missing, most of them Dalits, and largely as a result of sex trade. Statistics show that every 2.5 hours a child under 13 is raped. Dalit women are also frequently abused and sold into prostitution, forced to eat human defecation, paraded around naked, and even gang raped. Only 2% of Dalit women can read and write. In one survey, 60% of Dalit mothers admitted to killing a newborn daughter to spare her the life that awaited her as a female Dalit.

I can only imagine the outrage at these atrocities occurring in the US. CNN would sensationalize any one of these into a string of headlines that would move us to swift corrective action. Yet a group whose size rivals the population of the United States endures constant oppression, at a level beyond that which is imaginable. Does being born into a different country with a different value system reduce your worth as a human being? Our founding fathers didn't think so. William Wilberforce and Abraham Lincoln didn't think so. Our Creator certainly does not think so.

For most of my life, I was not aware of the plight of the Dalits. I avoided the weight of my conscience by a lack of knowledge. A few years ago, I heard of the Dalits through a local grassroots organization promoting social justice for this group of people, and I could not be still any longer. I was drawn to the Dalit movement that is happening in India. I wanted to be a part of it. I can't wait to meet them.

Click here to view a New York Times photo slideshow profiling the Dalit crusade for change.

Take 2

2008-11-02T14:14:00.006-07:00

Correction to my very first post on how to "subscribe via email" to get blog updates:

Apparently adding yourself as a follower to this blog will not email you updates. To remedy the situation (I hope), I added the the sitefeeder update to the right, right below the map of India. So, try it again, and let's cross our fingers and hope my blogging inexperience doesn't complicate this any further...

UPDATE: I have received independent confirmation that the blog email updates are working. We're in business!

India 101

2008-11-01T23:00:00.001-06:00

Consider this a follow up to our geography lesson:

Population: 1,103,596,000

Capital: New Delhi

Area: 1,269,221 square miles

Language:Hindi, English and 14 others

Religion: Hindu (80.4%), Muslim (13.4%), Christian (2.3%), Sikh (1.9%), Buddhist (1.1%), Other (.9%)

Currency: Indian rupee
Life Expectancy: 63

GDP per Capita: US $2,600

Literacy Rate: 60%

Source: National Geographic Travel

And, finally, some other items of note:

India occupies 2.4% of the world's land area but it disproportionately supports over 17.5% of the world's population.

India's national sport is field hockey, but Cricket is the most popular.

National Fruit is the Mango. I'll be testing this one out.

Popular women's dress is the salwar kameez. This is of particular interest to me, since all the ladies in our group will be sporting this traditional Indian fashion for much of our trip. I'm hoping that I'll look just like the lady in blue.

Source: Wikipedia.

I think Michael Scott said it best, " Wikipedia is the best thing ever. Anyone in the world can write anything they want about any subject. So you know you are getting the best possible information. " Consider yourself warned.

Bollywood

2008-10-31T22:14:00.009-06:00

One of the ways M and I have been educating ourselves about India in recent months has been through film. We are movie lovers, so this wasn't a hard sell. We've been faithful Netflix members since 2003, and have watched (at last count) 832 movies since joining. That's a lot of movies!

We stacked our Netflix queue with as many India related dramas and documentaries as we could find. Some were fabulous, others, not-so-fabulous. Here's a list of some of the movie titles, if you'd like to check them out yourself:

Water
Born into Brothels
Office Tigers
Mother Teresa
The Namesake
Ghandi

Of these, my favorite is "Born into Brothels." It's a documentary which focuses on several children who live in Calcutta's red light district, where their mothers work as prostitutes. Shunned by their own, these children are given a hope for the future thanks to the dedication of a New York based photographer who teaches them photography. It's an amazing example how one person can make a difference. The film won an Academy Award in 2005 for Best Documentary Feature film - for more information visit www.kids-with-cameras.org

Anyone else have any other India-related films that they'd recommend?

A Visual

2008-10-30T22:26:00.005-06:00

Here's a map of India, so you can refresh your memory. I had to get acquainted. It's been a while since my 5th grade world geography class. We will be visiting Hyderabad (right in the middle of the country) and Bangalore (near the bottom). Now, can you find Carmen Sandiego?

T minus one week!

2008-10-30T09:08:00.004-06:00

Our departure date is approaching quickly, and our team is brimming with excitement. We have reached our fundraising goal and are so thankful for everyone who helped to make that happen!

If you'd like to subscribe to updates from this blog, click on the link at the bottom of this page to "follow this blog" and notifications of any new posts will be emailed to you.