Day 2: Sainji Village

I woke up on the roof of Kunwar’s house to the yell of Samir and a flurry of sparrows buzzing just above my face at high speeds.

“What the fuck?! That sparrow literally just flew into my back!” yelled Samir. The sun was still just peeping over the mountains.

“Nah uh”, I sleepily responded.

In an hour or so, the boys and I would pack up all of our gear and creep back into the house the rest of the group was nesting in. They were all still sleeping and we merrily began getting ready for our big day. The kids usually walk up a kilometer or so to the bus stop and then get driven to school. That was our game plan.

Jessica taking pictures of the kids. They loved our cameras.

I walked with Samir, Rohan, and Jessica with a group of 10 or so girls of the village. Zach and Nick had left earlier with all of the boys. It’s funny how the girls all stick with their gender and the boys do the same; very little social contact is exchanged between the two. It was also made known by the fact that all these girls surrounded Jessica while Samir, Rohan, and I were largely ostracized. The hike up to the bus stop was short but I was sweating bullets from the ascension. It was a solid 500 feet up, maybe more.

When the bus arrived, it was packed to the brim, so Rohan, Samir, and I elected to walk the remaining mile or so to school, which was extravagant. It was really nice to slowly take in the surroundings from a walk as opposed to the wildness of a bus ride where I probably wouldn’t even be able to think.

Samir at the front with Rohan following behind.

We arrived at the school just as the students were beginning their early morning activities. They all met in the center, outside the school and recited the Indian national anthem. They also went through some rather militaristic drills where students facing the crowd of children, would yell something, and the kids would repeat. Once the other students of Pitt from the village arrived via bus, we had breakfast and got assigned classes to teach.

Morning drills.

I was assigned to Kindergarten along with Annie, and we quickly started planning our day… albeit poorly so. We each chose two books and went to meet our students. Immediately upon entering the class, the kids absolutely beamed at us with shy, sly grins. The class of 16 was separated into two groups and Annie and I took them outside for the reading.

I had chosen the story “Wacky Wednesday”, which upon reading out loud, it quickly became evident it was a little too “high-level” for the kids. However, the fun of the book was the fact that the students had to locate things on each page that were wacky or out of place. It started with 2 things, then 3, then 6, 10, 12, 16, and 20. It worked out perfectly with the kids. They were nearly climbing onto my head, eager to locate the strange things in the pictures. We counted, smiled, and laughed. Afterwards, for the next 3 hours, Annie and I played games with them. It was funny; we totally ran out of ideas for games to play and even games like “Ring Around the Rosie” had the kids smiling like it was Christmas morning. I was terrified before the day began that the kids would hate me or something but in their eyes, there was literally nothing we could do wrong.

Worthy of noting is the how much touch is involved with these kids. At all moments of the day, the children almost always have their arms around a buddy or are just touching other individuals. Now, this is incredibly cute but also problematic. There’s been an outbreak of mumps at the school (it might also describe why I’m sick today) and Lori had a clever way to look for it: She had the kids walk by her this morning giving high fives but she was really looking for anyone who might have the mumps. One student did.

When our teaching escapade was finally over, we waited for lunch and talked with the kids who had recess. I made some friends (Anush and two others) who taught me some Hindi words. Ugh, I was terrible at recalling them but some of it did stick and I was impressed with their patience. I could tell they also really enjoyed teaching me.

After lunch, we were told that the kids had prepared yet another gift for us. This time, it was a traditional dance that was gorgeous. About ten kids, dressed head to toe in vividly colorful garments, danced amongst their gender in groups of five. At times, the Hindi music would have a little “breakdown”, in which one boy and girl would come to the middle of the circle and dance with each other. Everyone else would begin clapping at this moment. Afterward, they performed one more dance. Midway through this dance, each of them grabbed our hand and lured us onto the dance field. My worst apprehensions had come true. I was on display dancing like a goon amongst these kids. However, that became the fun of it, and the dance became so foreign to me that I was totally just swaying with the rhythm, mimicking the curious hand gestures of the other dancers. Pretty soon, I didn’t really care how silly I looked. Not long after we joined the dance, all of the GEM school students joined the dance floor and chaos ensued. Dancing gave way to moshing and once one of the children got hurt, it was over.

Traditional dance.

We sang a couple camp songs that a handful of us knew from the states before it was time for the kids to go home. The one bus takes three groups of students home, coming from a bunch of different villages in the area. As we waited, the one child with the mumps played games with me until the bus was done. Despite being sick, he was really sweet and showed me the most popular game amongst the children; the rock game. I didn’t quite grasp it but he absolutely killed me. The kid was a pro. It finally came time for us to leave the GEMS school. I was touched by the whole experience.  

Day 1: Sainji Village

The last two days, our Pitt group went to the small Indian villages of Bhatoli and Sainji. What an experience! The first day, we left our sanctuary up in the foothills of the Himalayas to travel north to the  Gharwal English Medium School. It was an hour and a half long drive mainly due to the fact that you can't just simply drive north over the Himalayas. By George, no. You zigzag up and up and up, until we were forced to come back down. The school is located directly above a tourist attraction in India known as Kempty Falls.

The story of the school is absolutely amazing. A woman by the name of Lori came to visit the Hanifl Center the day before to let us know what we were going to experience in "her" village. After visiting this region of India as a cultural anthropologist to do research; she totally fell in love with the area, a local man named Kunwar, and the children of the area. 4 score and 2 months ago, she built a local school in Sainji that had 8 students. Well, news spread fast, and 4 years later, she has a brand new facility and 400 students! When she gave her presentation to us, it was obvious how much of an emotional investment it's been for her. She became noticeably teary-eyed and emotional during several personal stories of some of the kids.

So, we arrived at the school around 11 in the afternoon, and were welcomed with tea, snacks, handshakes, a dance, and a song performed by the kids. What started out as a rather strange experience, because of the fact we were treated like royalty, quickly revealed to us the fact that the kids and teachers were just ecstatic to have us there. Upon interaction with the kids, you would've thought we were superhero's or something. Agh, wonderful, wonderful, bright kids.

Being welcomed by the kids.

The view from the school.

After getting welcomed at the school, a few students took us to the village of Bhatoli where we learned about the current corn harvest. All over town, corn is drying in every crevice and crack of the neighborhood. The women do all of the really difficult labor and it's strange to seem them lugging gigantic bags of corn up sharp inclines. 

Corn harvesting.

After our experience in Bhatoli, it was off to the village of Sainji where we would be staying overnight. Once again, we were welcomed to dinner, and a pleasant timeframe of tea. Kunwar and Lori have students stay at their house and have festive dinners for many of the town residents. They're incredible people. 

Arrival in Sainji Village

In the center of town, our group spent a solid two hours with the kids playing games, giving piggy-back rides, playing music, taking pictures, you name it. The kid's absolutely loved it. One of the guy's in our group, Zach, played guitar for the kids, which had them absolutely enthralled. They loved it. Hell, they loved everything about our presence. It was really heartwarming.

Playing

Perfectly captured.

Eventually, we had dinner and then got ready for bed. We had a big day in store the next day as we had to teach a few classes with the kids. The school has grades pre-k through 7. We had a wonderful house that Lori was kind enough to let us sleep in... but I had heard about an opportunity to sleep outside. On top of Lori and Kunwar's house was where Nick, Rohan, Samir, and I fell asleep. The Milky Way was clearly visible with its white, cloudy surroundings making itself known in the night sky. Pretty rad stuff.

Musing Too Hard? Or Just Enough?

Its been about a week since my last post and in that span I've had many interesting thoughts/experiences. A few things stick out that I thought would be fun to muse about on my blog.

1. When visiting Dehra Dun a few days back, it was at one point darting through traffic that I pondered industrialism. The traffic, once again (like the train), was a metaphor for the speed at which human beings are moving, especially in India. Quite literally, we drove around for a solid 3 hours, and never once did we ever stay behind a car in that time span. If the car in front of you was driving just a tad slower, well than fuck all, they're getting passed. Never mind if the car in the other lane is barreling down on you, they'll move. I also noticed that whenever a car drifted into our lane, the driver - instead of giving that vehicle room - would turn to face the car in a game of chicken. It was ridiculous... but it worked. The car would always move back into their lane as if our driver was expressing his dominance of the roadway. Anyway, once again, I was thinking about how the rapid development of a place like India has put them on the speedway of industrialism/modernism/post-modernism (whatever you wanna call it), and there is no time to slow up. Those who do, get passed.

2. A night or two ago, our group was taken on a tour through the town of Landour, Mussoorie to see all of the different places of worship. Dr. Alter noted that this town was one of the most cosmopolitan in the world, containing all sorts of religions and an acceptance of each one. Our guide, Mohammed Yusef took us to all of these places and I got to spend some personal time with him at different places. So... the "highlight" of this little expedition was the dinner we were invited to at a rather wealthy businessman of the area. The actual plethora of his wealth didn't strike us until we reached his estate, sitting majestically overlooking all of Mussoorie and miles into the distance, the city of Dehra Dun. The man had servants, endless food, tons of alcohol, you name it! Perched out on his deck, surveying the incredible surroundings, Yusef was distraught. Yusef lives in the middle of Mussoorie with 3 boys (2 twins) and had earlier spoken of how some of the families around him are so poor, that he gives them the leftover food from his table every evening.

He said, "Out of 5 generations of my family living in this village, never have I seen a view like this".

Samir responded, "Yeah... some people are just lucky".

Yusef aptly said, "Like being from Pittsburgh".

Despite the harshness it could've been taken as, it immediately struck a sympathetic chord in my chest. Damn us Americans... we're fucking spoiled.

So, those were my philosophical/striking experiences that have really painted mental images of my surroundings. I've finally felt a bit more at home after hearing some really moving stories from other students about how many Indians have opened their homes to us. We're actually known throughout the area for being here, which surprised me... but it shouldn't. Firstly, being of caucasian descent, we stick out. Secondly, we're here for four months and that's a long time so the villagers are aware of us outsiders. Thirdly, America has a funny type of influence over here... India is striving (in a sense) to become like us. In the ways of becoming civilized and modernized; we're the example. Families want us to talk to their kids about the opportunities and economic possibilities available in the states. So, given all this, I'm trying/hoping we come off as friendly and open individuals in a place where we're the guests.

Making Friends... Of All Species

Today is my third day in Mussoorie, India and I woke up around 4;30. The Pittsburgh Pirates were just beginning a baseball game back in the states and I watched that for half an hour before I saw the sun creeping through the curtains of the upstairs loft. I decided to go hiking to watch the sunset. On my steep ascent up into the mountains, I ran into two wild dogs.

India has wild dogs absolutely everywhere. In fact, yesterday, as the students and I walked through the shopping district of the town, we came across an abandoned litter of puppies shivering in the street, piled under a few motorcycles. The girls (and I) were rather heartbroken over the ordeal.

Anyhow, the two wild dogs ended up following me for over an hour as I hiked. When I came to the pinnacle of the mountain I was on, they sat down and watched the sunrise with me. It was there that I promptly gave the names of Pocahontas and Geronimo to my two fellow companions.

The dogs followed me back down the mountain until they started languishing behind, whining, as I neared the gate of one particular village. I urged them on with friendly tussling of their manes and cooing of encouragement. However, it seemed I was in the wrong. No more than one minute passed this gate, a pack of dogs came flying out from a fork in the road and attacked my two friends. The large alpha male, Geronimo was chased back into the village. Pocahontas, the very small female who almost seemed like a puppy, was pushed over one of the walls down fifteen feet where she somersaulted, cried out, and peed herself. I stepped in front of her and stood protectively as half of the dogs split to chase Geronimo, and the other half preyed upon Pocahontas. However, they had no interest in confronting a human for her.

Pocahontas would follow me all the way back into the Hanifl Center. However, after I returned from the dining building to wash my hands, she had vanished. I think I’ll see her again… and Geronimo too.

The sunrise, for once not obscured by the monsoon's clouds and mist.

Geronimo on the left, and Pocahontas on the right.

The Rhesus Macaque

Geronimo can't resist the chase.

A Stream of Country

 The train ride into Dehradun was exceptional. I got to ride through much of the Northern India countryside seeing the people, the overtaking foliage, the terrain… and the pollution. Man, I knew about the slums and I knew about the problem with the accumulation of trash in India but I was not prepared for it. Trash is absolutely everywhere that there is any human populace within 20 miles.

 I started reading a book called “Still Life with Woodpecker” by Tom Robbins and as I was riding, one quote stuck out to me. It read, “People who sacrifice beauty for efficiency get what they deserve”. Now, I hate to sound like I’m judging India or anything for that matter but I couldn’t shake the cons of industrialism, especially in a country that has been in the fast lane of industrialism for the past century or so. It’s effects scream out of the landscape of the country (Northern India). I also had a rather uneasy thought in my head as the train flew by the passing villages, slums, and cities: ‘If this train were to strike someone… I don’t think it would stop’. A metaphor for the world’s current path.

I arrived in the Hanifl Center around late afternoon the other day and was immediately welcomed with open arms by the students here. Dr. Alter was more than kind, and accommodating to me off the train.

I don’t want this blog to turn into an every day, every moment record of the things I do but I do want it to record specific thoughts and events that stick out.

Awaiting my train to Dehradun

One of the first small towns to come into view.

Trash strewn about the water systems. You wonder why all the tap water here is tainted.

:/

Torrential downpour upon climbing the base of the Himalayas; heavy flooding.

Climbing up to the Hanifl Center... almost there.

Mission... Almost Accomplished

Operation Get-The-Fuck-To-India went into full effect this morning upon waking up. Immediately, I quickly packed up my gear and I was off to the airport around 1. I got to Newark around 3:30, and said my goodbyes to my family. It was surreal, yet… nothing had hit me yet. I couldn’t possibly imagine exactly what India or Delhi would be like and upon my arrival, the futility at any preparations to do so were clear.

The plane was 12 hours and I sat in the very last row of the plane nestled in between two fellow Indian flyers. I watched 21 Jump Street, Cloud Atlas, and half of Lincoln. It was quite enjoyable. The other few hours were spent reading, sleeping, and complaining within my mind about the utter impossibility of falling asleep sitting upright, yet it was done.

Arriving in Delhi was an absolute trip in itself. I no longer had cell phone service and just hoped that I would run into a guy holding a sign with my name on it. After trudging through customs and the foreign guest’s line, I exited the airport with anxiety creeping in as to whether or not I would have to find my own way in this bustling city.

However, as I exited the airport and was greeted by the evening mist of smog, there was a man holding a yellow sign reading: “Ralf Johnson, Woodstock”. I was in business. As I walked with the man, a stranger approached and clasped his hand over my hand that was gripping the handle of my luggage. Out of pure instinct from contact, I withdrew my hand. Unsure of what to make of the man, I walked with my driver for a couple more feet before he turned to face the man who took my luggage. He yelled at him in another language, and shooed him away with his hand. After the man argued back, he begrudgingly gave me back my luggage. The driver turned back to me and said, “He just wants your money. You must look out for those men”.

We got to the man’s vehicle and headed out of the parking garage. I got the man’s name but the pronunciation and dialect that he spoke of totally obscured it from me. I asked again, pronounced it, and was told it was correct but I’ve totally lost it. I never was good with names.

The roads of India! Holy shit! I was terrified! There are lanes drawn upon these “highways” yet no one follows them whatsoever. As opposed to using turn signals to move between these “lanes”, drivers instead just beep their horn. It was utter madness. I saw two families all piled onto motorcycles steering through tiny gaps in between cars. There are tons of cyclists and motorcycles, in general, just dangerously flying down the road. The man and I eventually arrived to the hotel I’m staying in for the night called the YWCA Delhi. He’ll be here tomorrow morning at 6 am and I’ll be taking a 5-hour train ride into Dehradun where I’ll meet Professor Alter. My mind is still whirring just from the drive. Culture shock has totally slapped me in the face.

YWCA Room

The error in forgetting my camera was apparent. It cannot take pictures in the dark... and since my whole night in Delhi was at night, this is the only clear picture I captured.

The Gift of the Present

I've decided, to hell with it, I sort of miss keeping a little journal of my thoughts, experiences and adventures so this is the product of those feelings. Here I am again, starting another one of these blogs. On this occasion, I'm bound for Mussoorie, India for a semester.

For starters, I'm already in a tad bit of trouble regarding my mode of transportation, timing, and the entire journey to India. Coming back from my bike trip to San Francisco, I neglected to get my VISA papers in on time so I'm awaiting their arrival. Today was actually the day I was to board the flight alongside the 20 or so other students. So, once again, I'll be on my own for the flight to the New Delhi Airport... whenever that might be (hopefully just a few days).

It's funny how very little I've actually given avid, conscious thought to the actual experience. I've had a lot going on in the past few months. Before the bike trip, I had been thinking and planning for that for months. It was one of the few times I've ever actually had something to look forward to with genuine sincerity and happiness. Dreams were filled with thoughts of just being out, free on the road, able to see or do whatever I wanted to do. It was just that.

Now, I'm at home and I am continuously "stuck" in the present sense of time. This can also aptly describe why I bungled the VISA process; truthfully, I just hadn't given it the thought that I should have. I've spent a lot of time, reading, and striving to attempt to live as grounded as possible in the present tense to avoid missing out on what's going on right in front of me. I believe I'm in that very mindset, experiencing the positives and negatives of what that holds. So, while I am here in the beautiful Cape May Court House, NJ, I shall continue to live that way, enjoying the borrowed time I have with friends and family.

When the time comes to fully engage my senses to India, then I'll be fully endowed inside that present experience. Until then...