Indian Pasta Sauce Tickles my Taste Buds

I feel that I owe quite the blog post since it’s been such a lengthy time since my last post. Sunday was a successful day since I spent it with TWO NEW INDIAN FRIENDS! Never would I have ever thought that that would be such a heavy goal weighing in my mind for quite some time in my life. However, indeed that is one goal that I have persevered for, and I’m rather proud that I’ve managed to make two friends; at least I hope they’re friends. Tiffany, Rita and I went to a concert at another college that Vipul and his friend, Goth scored us tickets to. I had no idea that Indian people loved death metal so much. I’m slowly learning to embrace it, barely, but it helps to make the bands seem almost humorous so I pretend that they’re all wearing footy pajamas. It actually works most of the time. We even were able to go to the front of the crowd, which would have been even cooler if it would have been a band that I knew, but I still got to head bang, and I still created stares with every move I made, so yes, the concert was an extreme success. Also, the reason that I know, with absolute certitude that Vipul and I will become great friends is because he has actually hugged Johnny Depp. There is no bond greater that the connection of Johnny Depp, and yes, so his story is better than mine, but I still maintain that Johnny and I made eye contact.

After the concert, Rita and I went to an Assembly of God service, and it was absolutely beautiful. It was the youth night, and it filled my soul to the brim. I was skeptical at first, because the pastor was making a metaphor about us being the salt of the earth, and she got a little too absorbed with the salt for a moment, but she ended up posing an extremely captivating thought. Christ calls us to be the salt of the earth, because salt is genuine. No matter what you put salt in, you can always taste the salt. It doesn’t take on any other form of flavor; salt tastes like salt. Also, salt preserves. Whenever you want to keep a food from spoiling, you put it with salt. Well, Christ calls us to be authentic and to preserve. I honestly never thought a jar of salt could turn into such a profound idea. Touché.

Yesterday we had school, which I’m actually not used to since we haven’t had school in so long, but it was productive. We learned about Economics, which I am learning to appreciate more and more with every passing class period. Who would ever have thought that I would learn so much about Economics and actually enjoy it? The only thing that distracts me sometimes from listening is the awesome stache that the economics professor sports during our class. Don’t get me wrong, he’s an excellent professor, but he also has an awesome moustache. I feel that this should not go unnoticed.

Today was actually an incredibly interesting day of class. For Sociology, we had a different professor from our regular one, and he talked mostly about love and sex from Plato’s Symposium. We learned about Aristophanes and his story of what caused homosexuality and heterosexuality, even though these terms weren’t coined at that time. Seriously, I was actually engaged the entire time during class. I was so pumped that we were being taught something interesting, and more important that the professor was incredibly passionate about what he was teaching. However, I have begun to notice that Xavier’s is much like high school. Let me give you an example. I believe that when I was in Junior High, I mostly stopped laughing at the terms “sex” and “genitals” and all that jazz. Interestingly enough, the men and women of Xavier’s have yet to get that out of their system. Every time that our professor said “those” words, there were tides of giggles rippling through the classroom, and I just couldn’t believe that college students were still laughing at terms such as those. It’s truly a phenomenon.

All I Do is Puja

Hello and happy Puja!
Today is a holiday for India as it celebrates the god of learning, Saraswati. We had the tenacity and strength to attend two pujas today. We are quite the social butterflies here in Kolkata. We were able to wear Kakima's sari's again today, which of course, are exquisite. I felt like I should have been in the Flintstones in my sari. At our first puja, we met the cutest girl, Chandra, and she is literally the most adorable Indian girl I have ever met. She loved taking pictures and she squealed every time she gave us a hug. I wanted to keep her so badly. We also saw her at the second Puja that we went to for lunch. She was so excited to see us, and I was overjoyed that I was able to see her again.

We also met an Indian man who was the most intense person I have ever met in my life, and that is quite certainly saying a lot. Please excuse me for saying this but it was almost as if he had trivia tourettes. We would be talking with his sister in a calm and relaxed setting, and he would almost shout, "OLYMPICS. RUSSIA. AMERICA. GERMANY. OLYMPICS!" to which we would simply nod and say "yes" or "okay". He entertained me for some while, but I couldn't get over how randomly and quite emphatically he yelled almost every five minutes.

The man whose house we went to the second time was such a sweet man. Kakima told us that she has never met a more kind and gentle man and to her, he is like a god. He had such a warm demeanor about him, and everything he said was filled with honey. He had a beautiful backyard garden that he showed us with pride. He seemed and appeared to be such a simple man, but he had the grace and elegance of Mr. Rogers, or some other person that is probably a better comparison for this man. I was honored to be invited to puja at his house.

Tonight, we are going over to another home where two students are staying from our group, and we're going to get together with almost our entire group for food and festivities. We're going potluck style and so far we have oreos, oreos, fanta, and oreos. I think this evening is guaranteed to be a success.

Literary Yeats

Tiffany and I SO PUMPED for Tolstoy and company!

Working on my philosopher face as I ponder the

inner workings of Tagore's, "Boundless Sky".

Hold the Butter

            So I must blog about the rebellious victory (or what I deem a victory) that took place at the food court of our mall in Salt Lake on Thursday. I had just bought a scrumptious dollop of chocolate ice cream and was traveling into a food court with Rita and Tiffany, when a security guard stopped me and told me that outside food was not allowed in the food court. Upon hearing this, I reluctantly retreated and found a lovely place of rest under an umbrella on the outside patio. Literally within not even five minutes, a different security guard came over to me and motioned something to me with his hand. I asked him what exactly his vague motion meant, and he said to me “No outside food allowed.” To this, I responded “You mean that there is no outside food allowed outside?” He then stares at me with a long, awkward pause and says, “Yes.” To this (and I admit that this was somewhat immature and childish) I said, “That is stupid.” If you know anything about me, you will know that while I do respect rules, I do not respect stupid rules, and I have defined this rule as a stupid rule. So as an act of defiance I made my way over to the “line” between the territory of the patio and the wimpy ice cream cart, that I didn’t even buy ice cream from. I sat on this stone border-like thing around these plants with one foot on my side by this random ice cream stand and the other foot crossing the “line” of the patio where my outside food was not allowed. I wish I could have captured this all on film because then the security guard proceeded to walk around staring at me and talking to his fellow confidants. Then, he has the nerve to come up to me and say, “Please have a seat miss” over by these brown benches that must have been the appropriate outside location for my outside food. And of course, because I am ridiculously stubborn and I am rarely to never wrong, I responded, “No. I’m good.” And with this I slowly licked the ice cream off of my spoon while staring at him. I wish with all my heart that I could have captured the look on his face as I did this and the manner in which he slowly and awkwardly walked away. I came out triumphant, and I believe that in due time, I will be the Gandhi of the food court. Mom and dad, I hope you are proud, because I sure was after my victory. Ah, the small things in life.

            Well, the rest of Kolkata must have learned about my uproar at the food court, because while I was attending the Kolkata Book Fair this Friday, I was interviewed. Yes, indeed, I am an Indian celebrity, and honestly, it wasn’t even that difficult. I even pulled out the book I bought by Tagore and with pure authenticity, sifted through the pages with a delighted expression. I know it seems such a small role, but be careful, because once I have begun there is no stopping me! The book fair was lovely, and there were literally hundreds upon thousands upon millions of books. I happened upon this children section that had the SHORTENED VERSION OF MOBY DICK!!!! I was so incredibly close to buying it and sending it to my junior year, English teacher with a note attached saying that this pretty much sums up everything about the novel, while leaving out a billion pages of whale facts. I chose against this, but I did have a chuckle to myself about the irony.

            As I was walking down the street tonight, heading back to our home, I realized that I am becoming a true Kolkatan, in my sense of the term. I just feel that I am in groove with the rhythm of the streets of Kolkata and that I have a confidence about me that I certainly did not possess at the beginning of this trip. It is such a blessing that I am starting to feel that I actually live here. Although Kolkata, I am absolutely sure, will continue to surprise, amaze and shock me, I can see how it is changing the type of person that I am. Tonight, as we were drinking tea, Kakima said something that was so profound I have to share it: “Through helping those who are not as blessed as us, we are worshiping God.” My jaw just dropped at this statement. I never thought of it that way. When we stop to help those who we know to not have as many blessing as the Lord has given us, we are worshiping Him. We are blessing and praising His name, and we are doing it not because we are these incredible people that feel so good after helping those in need. No, we are doing it because it is our obligation and our responsibility to each and every human being of this world. Who knows, we could be on the streets tomorrow, and then we are the ones that are begging other human beings for money. I was just so proud of Kakima, and Kaka and her continue to move me so deeply. I consider them by biggest blessing so far in Kolkata. I can’t imagine what they have left to teach me.

Throw Washers into the Ocean

The festive board on which I shared two

magical evenings.

The ashram in which I could have passed of

as an extra in "Eat. Pray. Love."

The hippie, cool cat hangout of the rebels that

still exists today, and in which I wish to make

many friends so that I can live there in my

hippie van/home.

Just us gals in front of one of Tagore's million

homes.

The children of the sunshine at Tagore's school

just learning some philosophy and ancient wisdom.

Heard That Goat

So this past three days I have been in the lovely town of Santiniketan, which is where Tagore, a famous Indian philosopher and artist, began his specialized school. It was an incredibly interesting trip, and folks, it looked quite similar to Midwest! While we were driving through, there were fields laying endlessly stretched out on top of one another, and there were Indian tractors and okay so some people carrying crops on their head, but for the most part it was exactly like the Midwest! The jeep drive that we took was the best cure if you are ever feeling constipation or any other blockage issues. It was one long roller coaster of bumps and flights in the air, and thank the Lord for padded roofs! Our driver must have pent up dreams about becoming a Nascar driver, and he very strongly believes in the use of his break. He could make an exceptional stomp dancer. We arrived at Tagore's International School just outside of Santiniketan, and we were the first visitors to stay in the hostel. It was similar to camping inside! I never thought I would miss my board mattress at home either so that made me supremely happy.

Monday night we traveled to an Ashram and were even able to see a worship service. If there would have been Julia Roberts and an elephant I could have sworn I would have been an extra in "Eat. Pray. Love." It was such a wonderful opportunity to see the Ashram and the monks that are serving there. It's also a school for young boys, and some of the boys are even orphans that have been taken in by this order. The worship service that we were watching was dedicated to the elements of the world, such as the wind and rain. Also the worship service was in honor of the Guru who founded the mission, though I can't recall his name exactly. They came up to us towards the end of the service and brought a lighted lamp to us. We put our hand over the lamp and then put our hand on our head as a sign of blessing. To be honest, I have no idea what the blessing meant, but the children were adorable and so I found this quite joyful. After this, we saw traditional Bengali musicians that were called Baul. It was splendid music, and my favorite part was the man with the long, silver beard that was wearing a Joseph and the Technicolor robe. I wanted to be his friend so badly.

On Tuesday we went to the college and school that was started by Tagore. Tagore had the most stunning philosophy of what education should be for children and young adults. Whenever possible, they hold classes outside because Tagore felt that people should be one with nature when learning. It is natural for humans to feel a greater connection with studies when they are surrounded by dirt and grass and trees and such. He pioneered the idea behind a liberal arts education in India. He was exhausted from the strict regime of his education at St. Xavier’s that left him little room of learning what he truly enjoyed. His school is simply marvelous, and for some happy reason their dress code is sunshine yellow. What better way to stay in touch with nature and study philosophy than by looking like sunshine or butter?

After this we went to Tagore's home or shall I say homes. The man had, I believe, six homes, all five feet apart from each other. Word out is that he grew bored with each home and so he just built another. There was something about how each home made him feel more in touch with nature, but I think that is just a likely excuse to own more homes. Each of the homes were exquisite, but I think he could have made due with just one. I guess if he became bored with one home, he could travel to the other like musical chairs. Perhaps when I'm extremely rich and rolling in money in my career as a student of peace, I will own ten homes, and you can all come visit me and I'll tell you what each one means to me...Tagore might be on to something here...

After this we went to Amar Kutir, which is an artisan place where people are just radically cool. Seriously, I've never seen so many sweet hippies in my life. They may not consider themselves to be hippies, but I do and I want to live there. Amar Kutir was started by free riders, who were rebels during the freedom movement of India from British rule. See? Incredibly cool cats. Because so many refugees came there and were out of income, he set up trade posts where everyone worked on what crafts they were skilled in, and eventually it turned into a type of artisan place where goods are being sold. They make leather for several items such a purses, wallets, elephants, etc. They also make fabrics, and the art work is fantastic. If I could make leather or stitch, I would live there for the rest of my life.

Later than night we saw traditional tribal dancing at the hostel. Before that, however, our group entertained the students who were staying there, and I was able to break out my rendition of "Little Green Frog." I must say it was a huge hit with the little ones, and I think I may try it out in the cities when I get back. Perhaps I'm called to be an artist for children's tapes...I'll keep you all in the loop on this possible career change.

The trip was lovely, and I thoroughly enjoyed the many experiences that we came into contact with. I loved being able to spend time with the group again, and I also was able to eat two chocolate croissants, which I don't know how you can get any better than that in life. I found Tagore to be a pretty deep cat, and I wish I could say things as eloquently as he and have everyone "oohing" and "ahhing" over my words. So I will leave you with a few of his words, which I was tempted to pretend were my own: "My heart spreads itself out in the wind to feel the touch of the world spirit strained through consciousness. Now let me sit quietly with eyes open." Yeah, I know.

She Believed She Could So She Did

There are so many colors in India. That's something that I have taken a notice to while walking the streets of Kolkata. I'm constantly amazed by the palette and hues that surround me daily. The Sari's of the women in Kolkata range from deep purple to turquoise to melon green to fiery orange to butter yellow to classic black and so on. The paintings and designs on the bus and auto rickshaws are cartoon-like and bold. The range of color schemes among the markets continue for eternity. The one word that comes to mind when thinking of Kolkata and thinking of color is technicolor. This is such a wide ranging word, but it also encompasses various elements. I have decided that my life in India will be one that is technicolor.

It will have numerous colors of bold to dramatic to pastel to neon to classic to shimmery to literally whatever colors exist in this world. I have never been someone who is a black and white viewer, and I've always thought of this as a fault at times. Still, I think that viewing the world in a technicolor lens will prove quite awesome in India. This doesn't mean that I'll be strutting rose-colored glasses and looking at the world from an ignorant or blissfully unaware optic. Trust me, I will never be able to be ignorant or blissfully unaware for as long as I live. Instead, I will use this technicolor lens to transform my world. I used to consistently get reprimanded for not coloring inside the lines to which I always thought, "Why do I have to stay within the lines? If this is art class doesn't it mean that I can do whatever I want?" Well, there will be no lines in Kolkata. Everything will be beyond limits.

I met with the woman of our service learning site yesterday and she was explaining Prayasam as a tool to empower the youth through innovative and creative methods. While walking through their building, the walls were lime green, orange and sky blue. There were several murals and collages covering the walls. This inspired me even more to pursue this technicolor lens. With this lens I will be able to not only empower myself but to also empower the youth that I'll be hanging out with every day. There is freedom in erasing the lines and there is awe-struck wonder in painting with any color or a combination of colors that you choose.

This is a photo that I think captures the

technicolor aspect of India.

I Suppose I'm in India Now

This was actually one of the first nights with our

family. Kakima let us borrow some of her Sari's to

wear to a traditional Puja, or worship.

Just some of the gals with our tiny "milk shake"

enjoying a night out with the group!

Apparently, Indians like hardcore death metal

so Courtney and I hid while waiting for the fashion

show to begin. It was safer in there.

Why not form an Indian/American rock band while

we're here? We've got 4 months and impressive

rock band faces.

Hallow!

It has indeed been some time since I have written on this blog, so I decided to whip something up. School has been interesting, because I'm still getting used to classes. Apparently, as we were told by a professor, Indian students will do whatever they can to avoid reading so he's extremely excited that we like to read. I guess this is just shocking to me because all I do in college is READ. I'm glad that I can make his most cherished dreams come true. Many of my classes are focused on Economics, which if you know me you'll know that I have no experience in, but I'm actually looking forward to the classes. I didn't realize that Economics plays such a significant role in shaping the future lives, and I think it will coincide well with Peace Studies. Who woulda thunk?

This Friday, we didn't have school and so Kaka took Brenna and I to a couple of slums. He is a member of this organization and he helps support, "Street Children International". This is an organization that educates children so that they can break the cycle of poverty and child labor. The first slum we went to was my favorite, and I could even see myself living there, I mean it. It was on the outskirts of Salt Lake and so it had almost a rural feel to it. There were numerous makeshift homes, such as huts, and there was a lake by it with fertile grass. As poor as it was, I thought it was so naturally beautiful. We went inside an extremely small school room, but there were so many gorgeous and adorable children. They all sang songs for us, and they tried to teach us Bangla. It was incredible! I got to dance with some of them, and we sang, "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" with them. I would love to do that every single day of my life. Especially, because there were pigs in the slum. We visited other slums, but I didn't like them as much because they were made of concrete and they were more in the city so they were filthier. The children were still beautiful though, obviously. One of the women that rode with us was telling me that as human beings, if we are blessed in life, we must in turn bless others. It's not something that we pat ourselves on the back for or rest well at night knowing that we donated a few dollars, it's an obligation. We are all brothers and sisters in this world, and if God gave us more than others, we are supposed to give in return. Why else would he have blessed us so abundantly? Clearly, my mouth could form no response, which is rare for me.

Later on Friday night, our group attended the fashion show that is put on by our college. Three of the women from our group were in the fashion show, and it was so awesome to see them in it. They did a fabulous job, and we were all extremely proud of them! They all survived their student director as well, who was apparently a piece of work. Some may say insane, others say driven...

This morning we woke up at 6:00 in the morning. Yep. 6:00 in the morning. I bet you can draw conclusions about how happy I was right away. I don't mind getting up early, actually. I got up early to go to the slums, and this morning I was even smiling. However, the tour that we took this morning was a little less than magical, even educational. I can't even tell you what we saw because our tour guide was talking about his ancestral homes. We did see the Marble Palace though, which was incredibly beautiful. We weren't allowed to take pictures though, so I can't show you. My apologies, you have no idea how delighted I was to come across something interesting on our tour. I also apologize for my snarkiness. This next week we are traveling on an excursion, and so I won't have much internet access, if any even. I promise to post a blog though as soon as I get back so you know I'm all alive.

Footprints of India

I wanted to write this blog, because this is something that I've noticed for quite some time. Feet are something that I usually do not like, they actually frighten me at times, which is silly I know. However, I've noticed the various feet in India, and they've gotten me thinking. By looking at peoples feet, you can tell somewhat of the life that they live. For instance, the tiny, dirty feet of a small child can tell you that this child probably is poorer than most and could possibly live in a slum or village outside of Kolkata. This child has probably seen more than I will ever see at the age of just 5-6 years old. The child probably plays in the dirt and runs around constantly. He/she is free to roam wherever he/she chooses in this slum or village.

Then you see the tiny, clean feet decorated with pink or blue or green shoes. These children most likely have a home of some sort and their parents do fairly well. These children will most likely if they don't already, attend school and receive an education. These children probably play indoors most of their days and spend their time with children of their same status. Their parents most likely maintain their hygiene extremely closely.

You also see grown, dirty, blistered feet of a man peddling a bicycle rickshaw or a motor rickshaw and a woman sweeping the streets or holding a child near the curb. This man or woman most likely works below minimum wage. Their feet are extremely used due to the work that they perform daily. They have numerous blisters showing how hard they work in order to bring back even the littlest income. They may be trying to provide an education for their children, but it may not be possible. Some are happy and content with their life, while others continue to long for more opportunities.

There are also the grown, clean, sometimes painted feet of a man on the metro or a woman shopping with her daughter or son. The painted feet of women near a Hindu temple. These men and women are probably well-off or can at least make enough money to provide for their family and ensure that their children are educated. They are more concerned with material wealth, but they also understand the poverty that surrounds them and so they give thanks daily for their blessings. They worked for every penny that they earn, and they do not waste a cent. Some are extremely happy and proud of where they have come. They don't take life too seriously, and they know their children will be happy. Others are anxious, always wanting more money. They may despise their job and take it out at home, but they stay in the job because it provides security for their family.

These and so many more are the stories of the feet of India. They and so many more stories and feet comprise the intricate caste system and demographic. They form what is known as the plethora of culture and lifestyle that inhibits India. These footprints are teaching me so many various lifestyles that walk the streets of Kolkata. These feet surround my flourishing life in India and leaves me curious for more.

Creepy Santa Vanishes from Park Street

Salutations all!
I have various pieces of wisdom that I feel I must share. The first piece of wisdom is that if you are a lover of bananas and enjoy eating them, make sure that you do not put it in your back pack then board a metro in which numerous men, and yes I literally mean men, are squishing against you to fit on the metro. Squishy metros = squishy bananas, which I'm sure you've already guessed = no banana for me. Well I do eat it, but there is nothing quite like a squishy banana.

My second piece of wisdom is that when learning your way around a particular area of town, such as me learning the directions to school and then to home, be careful not to pick landmarks that will disappear suddenly. In fact, believe it or not, memorize street names or stationary buildings. Here is why. If you know anything about me, you will know that I am awful at directions. Simply horrendous at finding my way around. So when traveling to and from on this journey, I have memorized landmarks. For instance, I know that I am on a particular street when I see an electric wire hanging on the corner, which my face almost hits every, single time. I also know that I'm on another particular street when I see a fancy lamp store, because, yes, it is extremely sparkly and eye-catching. My indicator for when I am near school is this gigantic, creepy Santa. It sits in the middle of the park made out of paper mache or something, and its eyes are the most terrifying eyes I have ever seen. It is not a friendly Santa, because its eyes stare into your soul. So Santa does indeed know if you are naughty or nice. However, this creepy Santa has vanished! Either they took it down or someone desperate decided to steal it, but either way, I have lost my landmark. Do not fret, I still found my way since it's just straight down the road, but my point is that make sure you pick landmarks or even street names that will forever be there when learning directions. It could have been deadly. Nothing like being lost in India. Now that's scary.

My third piece of wisdom or perhaps just an observation is the controversy of clothing here in India. Now, when I was shopping and packing for India, I thought to myself, "I should buy pants there for the hot weather which will work well because everyone else will be wearing them." Now, I've never actually cared what anyone thinks of what I wear, but it just seemed to make sense in my head. I bought V-necks for simplicity and convenience and then I decided to buy Indian pants in India since it would be light-weight. Believe me, I have not regretted that decision, but I have ventured into a phenomenon. Indian students don't wear Indian clothing. Everywhere I look, they are wearing jeans or skinny pants or leggings or khaki's, etc. Occasionally, there will be the odd duck that wears Indian pants, but otherwise it's all Western clothing. Also, almost every woman is wearing sweaters or blouses or flowy tops. Most men are wearing button up shirts or printed tee's, which are against the rules, I'm just saying. No woman wears the traditional Indian tops and same for the men. This shocks me because I think that the Indian clothing we've seen is stunning. Sure, western clothes are beautiful, but I don't think they compare with Indian clothing. Also, Indian clothing is less expensive than Western clothing. So I get to school with my V-neck and Indian pants, and not only is everyone staring at me because I'm white, but they are also staring because I'm not fashionable! You see that this is extremely ironic that I'm not fashionable because I'm not wearing Western clothes even though I am a Westerner. I'm still trying to figure this complex out, but trust me, I'm incredibly happy I'm wearing light-weight pants.

My last observation and piece of wisdom is the incredibly new meaning of the song, "Feelin Hot, Hot, Hot". If you've ever heard this song, than you will understand what I'm about to explain. When getting on the metro the other day, I literally was barely standing because there were so many people. Back to back to back there were people standing on the metro, and for some unknown reason, all of the people were males. I could not move because if I did, there would be someone on top of me, basically. Standing in a metro, with little air conditioning, with what I consider to be Spring weather, and a plethora of older men created the theme "Feelin Hot, Hot, Hot". All I could think of was this song and also what it will be like in March. I can't wait. You can count on a blog from me so stay tuned.

With this incredibly wise blog, I will conclude. I'm happy that I was able to share such vital observations for all of you. Mom and dad, these will certainly help you before coming to India. Don't worry, I will teach you everything I know free of charge.

Just a Voice Like a Riot Rocking Every Revision

Something has been on my heart so intimately that I have decided to share it with all of you. I don't do this often, but Christ has just been opening up my heart so widely that I feel I want you all to experience that with me, if you so choose. Yesterday, I was walking out of Xavier's, heading to the New Market to shop and look around with friends. As I was walking down the street, two little boys came up to me. Both were wearing clothes that were ratty, dirty, and filled with holes. They were also carrying plastic bags of old cans found all over the streets. I'm guessing that they were collecting the cans in order to receive as much change as they possibly can. They began following me holding out their tiny, dirty hands begging for anything that I could give them. All of a sudden one of them wrapped his hand around my finger and gripped so incredibly tightly. My heart melted into mush, and every part of me wanted to turn around, pick him up, hold him and never him go. We've been told not to give the beggars anything, even the children because we don't know where it's going towards. That is so difficult for me because I want to give these children every last coin that I have. I also don't want to become apathetic to poverty because that is my biggest fear. I was almost angry at God for not helping me with what to do, but then it hit me. When that little boy wrapped his tiny hand around my finger, I felt God. It was literally as if I was hit by a rickshaw, but it felt incredible. It reminded me that God knows these children's pain, and God understands the pain I feel when I see these children. In fact, God understands this pain so much that He gave me a heart for working with children.

I found out my service learning placement, and I will be serving at Prayasam. It's an organization in Salt Lake, Kolkata, where we live that helps children in the slums. Their motto is, "We care because someone must." So simple, but it reverberates with me. Two of the students last year worked here and they helped teach the children English, and they also spent time with the children on Saturdays helping planting a sustainable garden. The organization is extremely creative, and they love inspiring the children through the arts. I've posted the link below so that anyone who is interested can look at it. I'm pretty certain I will love it, and I will definitely make sure to keep you all updated.
http://www.prayasam.org/index.asp

I'll leave you with a random thought I had. I've been listening to this song that just makes me so fantastically hopeful for the future and so empowered and part of the song says, "This is not the end, this is not the beginning, just a voice like a riot rocking every revision." I am going to use this as my theme for the next semester. Life is a constant revision, a constant draft that we write, erase and re-write. We are never finished writing it. There is never an end. There is never a beginning. My draft will be a constant challenge of this world. It will be a riot, a revolution that pushes for more than what is being given now. I refuse to settle for anything. I have immense hope for these children, and my heart awaits when I will be able to touch the hands of the little ones and to hold them so tightly. My heart awaits loving on the children that Christ brings to me.

We Are Small but Mighty

The mob of students on Sports Day. We represented

CSB/SJU by bringing up the rear. We also brought

quite the ruckus with us.

The infamous group of "Visiting Students" that

took Sports Day by storm.

Here I am, powering up for the 100 meter

relay in which track is much like traffic in India.

People go in whatever lane they want!

Run Forest Run

Greetings!
Since I didn't post a blog for yesterday, I figured that I owed you all that much. Yesterday was the infamous Sports Day at Xaiver's College. I honestly have never seen anything like it in my life! The day began with every single department of majors marching one after the other with signs applicable to their major. We were the last group to go with a tiny white sign that said "College of St. Johns, St. Ben's. Visiting Students". Although we were a small group, we marched singing "St. Johns!" and then our own remix, "St. Ben's!" at the top of our lungs. We did receive many stares, but we received more clapping and yelling which is a lot for Indians, since apparently the don't really yell at sporting events. After the procession, we watched the various sports events. I held the extreme priveledge of participating in the ping pong race or whatever the offical name was. This included balancing a ping pong ball on a ping pong paddle for a little less than 100 meters. Whoever crossed the finish line first with the ball still on the paddle won the race. You could balance it or you could bounce it, but you couldn't catch it with your hands, and you obviously couldn't drop it. I managed second place by running and bouncing the ping pong ball.  If I do say so myself, I think I should receive first place for the most bounces on a paddle. Folks, it takes great talent to do what I did, and I think I may have found my calling in India. I shall be a ping pong bouncer and race across various countries. It sounds like a swell life to me!

Other students from our group did the piggy-back race and other students from our group raced holding a magazine between their hands together, don't ask because I'm still not entirely sure how to explain that one. The last event that I participated in was the 100 meter relay. I began the relay, and let me tell you, Indian runners do not stay in their lanes. I bet I could have beat three other girls if they wouldn't have cut me off, and if I hadn't been running in hiking boots perhaps. We did take 3rd though, which I was somewhat satisfied with, hehe.

After Sports Day, we went to an underground market, which was incredible. However, it did include a meat market which simply reminded me why I am a vegetarian. I won't go into details for the sake of those meat-eaters out there reading this blog. Later at night we went over to two other students' home and watched an extremely random Indian movie. Still not sure what that was about.

Trinkets of India

My soulmate that carried me up a mountain

Me, posing delightfully for a photo

One of the Eight Wonders of the World

People bathing in the holy water of Ganges River

The village that moved my soul.

Rabid Dogs are on the Attack

As you may have guessed dear readers, I have attained internet at the home that I live in now that I'm in India! While it is an extreme blessing, it is also something that I will have to make sure I'm not on 24/7! Today was my second day of class, and it was interesting. It's the class that I have with the rest of our group so it was awesome to see everyone again. On the way to class this morning, Rita, my roommate and I joked about what constitutes a good day for us. This is what constituted as a good day in India: We weren't ripped off by the auto rickshaw drivers, we got on the correct metro, we weren't violated by many Indian men on the metro, less people stared at us, and I didn't step in any pee or whatever else it is puddles! Would you get that in Minnesota or South Dakota? I don't really think so folks!

I also found out about a service works group at our college that travels to slums and villages on the weekends to work with the children of the slums. I am extremely pumped, because this is the opportunity I have been waiting for, and I know I will meet amazing people while on these trips. So far, my first week in India has been such an incredible blessing. I couldn't ask for a better Kakima or Kaka. They are such beautifully, passionate people who love India. Kaka was saying what a blessing it was to have us in his home. He also said that we are staying for the rest of our lives. Don't worry mom and dad, I will be coming home...eventually! I also live with 3 other girls, Tiffany, Rita, who I sleep with, and Brenna. Then there is also Drew who lives upstairs with his young professional. We also have a houskeeper, Anima, who is incredibly adorable with the best smile someone could ever possess. I also eat WAY too much, but Kakima continues to feed me so I will continue to take!

The Keepers of the Shoes Got the Grooves

1/12/12

      Today was a joyous adventure. We had school off today because it was the birthday of a Hindu god. Because of this, Kaka decided that he wanted to take us on an adventure. We literally have taken every form of transportation in India that I can imagine. We took a bus to a beautiful temple where we walked around, stood by the Ganges River, and sat while listening to Sanskrit in the grass. In order to get to the temple was had to travel by motor rickshaw. I had the most incredible moment on this rickshaw, although it may seem obvious to you who are reading this. While in the rickshaw, there were men saying hi to us, we were driving down a narrow and busy street, lined with shop upon shop and cattle and bicycles and people selling fruit on their head with Indian music, and I realized that I am India. I am on a rickshaw while people are selling fruit, cattle are walking past me, children are running after each other, and I am seeing all of this accompanied by Indian music. I felt as if I was Julia Roberts in “Eat. Pray. Love.” It was a fabulous feeling, and I hope to repeat it several times. The India that I saw today is the India that I pictured when I dreamt of Kolkata Back to the temple, we were silly to think that the staring would stop once we got to Kolkata. Indeed, we were the few white people among thousands of Indians, who all, for some reason, seemed to be staring in our direction the entire duration of our time there.

      After the temple, traveled to another temple in which we were able to see the new shrine of one of their gods. I apologize that I don’t remember names of temples or gods, but I am more of an intense people-watcher than I am a listener. People are what I remember from travel. We did get to see the shrine though. It was fantastic. A mob of people, and I mean a ginormous mob of people rushing, pushing, to get to this shrine bringing flowers, and other various trinkets to give to this god. It was breathtaking to see the desperation and excitement that these people felt in order to see this god. This is the desperation and excitement that I must feel for the Lord every single moment of every day. Thousands of people kneeling, folding their hands, talking in Sanskrit. There is nothing like it folks. After the temple, we met the men who kept our shoes safe. They had the most wonderful humor, and they were pumped that we were from America. Two of them began to dance as they would in Bollywood, and it made me so, so, so happy. They were laughing and joking and dancing, and Kaka said something so true and so beautiful. He said, “See they have close to nothing, but they work hard. And even though they have nothing, they are so happy. That is all that matters in this life.” Wow. Couldn’t have said it better myself. I want my life to be just like those men who are the protectors of my shoes.

      Then we traveled to a sweet shop to have coffee and sweets, and the little boy who helped us was sweet himself. He also has little to nothing, but he works incredibly hard to make food, and he serves with a wonderful smile. I could tell that Kaka liked him and knew him, because he was giving him a hard time in Bangla. As we were waiting at the train platform, a collection of Indian men began to gather around Kaka and us. First, one man in Adidas jogging pants wanted to take our picture, but Kaka refused. Then, a collection of intensely curious Indian men began to form a half circle, enclosing us on our bench listening to Kaka and watching us. Folks, I have never been in any situation such as this in my life. They asked Kaka several questions about us, smiled at us, and asked again for a photo. Thank goodness Kaka said no, but they were extremely friendly. I am not used to people crowding around me to look at me and want my picture. I don’t think our group will ever get used to that feeling. From the train we went home.

      Before we got home we had to travel through a village, or slum. While in the motor rickshaw, Kaka was telling me that that there was an NGO in this slum and the NGO was trying to educate the children, but they did not want to go to school. They were content, and so they closed the NGO due to refusal from the people of the slum. As we were travelling through this slum, there were small children everywhere; running after each other, covered in dirt with little clothing, but what I remember most is their gleaming smile and giggle. As we were leaving the slum, we suddenly came to Salt Lake, tall buildings, paved road and nicely dressed people. Such a drastic contrast, such disparity. I am so incredibly thankful that I was able to witness such culture today. This is the India that I have been waiting for. I am ready for what it brings me.  

I Emerge Victoriously from Squatting Toilet

1/9/12

Today was my first day at St. Xavier’s for Orientation! Surprisingly us as a group of white people didn’t stand out at all (please note the sarcasm dripping from my words). Actually, most of the people that we met that attend St. Xavier’s were incredibly welcoming and extremely excited to see us. The school is beautiful with halls complete with balconies that overlook an open lawn. While we were there we discovered perhaps the greatest invention a college has created: a canteen that has food so inexpensive that I could by the entire stock. We also learned about the rules and it looks like I will be more than fine with the clothes that I have brought. The only thing is that apparently Indians wear mainly western clothes, and so we’ll stand out even more with our India clothes. However, my theory is if I’m going to be noticed by being white, than why not live it up while I can and wear ridiculous clothing as well? Tomorrow is my first day of school, and I’m extremely excited to begin! I have my Sociology class which sounds incredibly interesting and then I may be sitting in on a film class just to experience it.

          Living with my Kaka and Kakima has been such a fantastic blessing. They take amazing care of us, and they are both very aware of our health and safety. Kakima never lets us leave without fruit and our water bottle, and Kaka never lets us leave without a piece of wisdom about India. I swear that the both of them could rule the world. I know they have so much to teach me about India, and I am blessed to be able to hear their amazing stories. Kakima says that Indians don’t show their love physically because they know the love that they have inside of their hearts for one another. I found that wondrously beautiful, and I couldn’t agree with her more. 

         

The One with the Flowers on the Roof

          I apologize yet again for the delayed response of my Indian adventures. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have arrived home, or at least my home for the next few months. It finally set in that I would be living here, no longer just a tourist but an actual student visa that needs to get registered in order to live here. It is no longer just a vacation; it is my life for now. On Friday we met our host parents, and let me tell you, I got the best of them all. My host mom, or how we call her, Kakima, which means Auntie, is extremely protective and responsible. She is one of the most caring women I have ever met, and her primary concern is that we are safe. She used to work on Wall Street in New York and so she understands the way that Americans live as opposed to Indians. Kakima has the most amazing laugh which makes me smile every time that I hear it. I seriously could not have asked for a better Kakima to live with in India. I’ll be sure to take pictures so that you can all share in my joy. Then there is Kaka, which means uncle in Bengali. He is one of the most wise men I have ever met and so extremely eager to share his wisdom with all of us. He has so many stories to share, and his wonderful smile and story-telling voice makes me want to hear more.

          Our home is incredibly beautiful. It is in one of the most scenic and prominent neighborhoods in Salt Lake City. I share a room with Rita and right next door to us is Brenna and Tiffany. On our floor we also have a kitchen where we eat all of our meals, two bathrooms, and a gorgeous living room. On the next floor lives Kakima and Kaka, then there is the roof-top terrace where there is a room in which Drew lives. The roof-top terrace is stunning, filled with flowers and complete with a breath-taking view. Anima, the most amazing woman with the most beautiful smile is the caretaker of the home. She cooks our meals for us, cleans for us, and basically keeps the home running. Kakima absolutely loves Anima, and she has become part of the family.

          There’s been a bit of a hold up with our internet so that is why I haven’t been able to reach any of you. Yesterday was pretty much a blur, but we spent the day at the City Center mall with two more members of our group and their host brother. Then last night we attended Puja, which is a form of worship in the Hindu religion. We were extremely blessed to wear Kakima’s beautiful sari’s and then we were shown off to everyone at Puja. We listened to them worship and then we ate. Although the food was spicy for me, I was extremely proud that I held my own and ate more spice than I ever have in my life. The rest of the night we spent talking with each other, and I read more of the Hunger Games, which are extremely addicting books if you haven’t already read them, you must.

          It’s so unbelievable to think that this is my life for the next semester, but I am so blessed by God to have this opportunity. As nervous and tentative as I am, I love challenges, in fact I thrive on them. I know that this will be such a challenging semester, but I also know that it will be such a fantastic journey filled with fantastic people. Me being the quote person that I am, brought some quotes to put on the wall of my room with me. One of them says, “This is the moment when you find out who you are.” Britt and I love that quote, and we’ve been trying to tackle that for, well a long time. Rita saw it and we decided as well that this is the perfect theme for this semester. I’m not entirely sure why I’m here or what God has planned, but I so ardently believe in those moments. The moments where you find out who you are. There isn’t just one part, there are a plethora of moments when you find out who you are. Those moments don’t have to be dramatic or so completely different, but they do have to be moments in which you make a decision as to the type of person that you want to become. So, I ask myself this semester, “Who do I want to become? How do I want to grow this semester? Who do I want to come back to America as?” These thoughts will fill my months, and I promise all of you, and those who don’t read my blog, you know who you are, that I am going to decide who I want to be in India, and I cannot wait to share that with my family back home.

          To all of the people that I love, who are all of the people in my life basically, thank you so much for the support. I can genuinely say that I feel your thoughts, prayers, wishes, etc with me as I venture on this new experience. I promise to take hold of this new challenge and to flourish as much as I possibly can. Mom and dad, I love you so much. Thank you for allowing me to do this. I promise that it will be worth it, and I can’t wait to share all of my memories with you. Although I have a family here, you will never stop becoming my true family. And when you come to India, which you will, you will met Kakima and Kaka, and you will love them. Until next time everyone, Namaste!!

The Shoe Shiner's Eyes Shine

Today is our second day in Jaipur. For some reason, it's been harder to be in Jaipur than in Delhi, and I think it's because we're more exposed to the city. There is poverty everywhere we look. It's not extremely in your face because this place does cater to tourists, but it's still present. Today we took rides on cycle rickshaws, and it's just hard because the men that cycle are stick thin and look sick. Almost everything you buy here is produced off of the poverty of others. It's difficult to buy clothes here and not think that a child may have made this in a factory. Today, as we were waiting on some people shopping, there was a small Indian girl who wanted to shine our shoes. They've told us to not give beggars money, because we won't know where that money is going to. I think one of the hardest things I've ever experienced in my life was literally standing there while this little girl was in front of me, asking to shine my shoes. What I noticed though, were her eyes. She was so incredibly beautiful, and she couldn't have been older than 8. Her eyes sparkled, and for some reason, I just had to believe that she was going to be okay. I don't know exactly why, but I had to believe that Christ was assuring me that this beautiful little girl with the shimmering eyes would survive and would grow up to be an incredible woman. Forever I will remember the beautiful shoe shiner whose eyes shone. These are the difficult moments that I  must treasure from God.

Hindi Soap Operas are the Best

Yesterday, there was literally nothing to post because nothing happened! We rode in a bus for 7 hours from Delhi to Jaipur so today was much more exciting! WE RODE ELEPHANTS TODAY!!! We rode elephants up a hill, and it was FANTASTIC!! They are indeed my soulmates. Then we rode a jeep back down which felt very safari like, and I think we rode in style. Then we went to HUGE palaces and we got to travel down secret passageways, very Bond-like. We also went to a textile and rug shop and saw how they were made. I eventually bought a scarf after remaining very firm with the skillful sellers! We went to several artisan shops, and everything was beautiful. I loved today, but it was extremely busy. I can't write much more because I have limited wifi, but I will expand later!