If she can do it, so can my Durga.

Lately, I've been thinking quite a bit about the youth and the women, basically the females, of Kolkata and India. I've been thinking about their rights and their freedom, and how easily and often that I take my rights and my freedom for granted. If you know me at all, you know that I am a proud and stubborn woman, and that I am incredibly adamant about women's rights. It's just been such a difficulty seeing that women don't have even close to equal rights and equal treatment to men. There are women that are brave and beautiful and blunt and are rocking Kolkata by storm, but there are so many more women that are not being heard and are being treated as slaves or as animals, disposable to the men that they work for. How did I come to take my freedom so lightly? The only time I've been ridiculed or teased was mainly from my brothers, and I was more than capable to spit a sarcastic comment right back to them. In fact, if someone tells me no, it makes me want to do it even more. I do not like being told that I can't do something.

I know that the women of India feel the same way, but they may not know how to go about voicing their rights and their hopes. They don't have many avenues to explore in finding out their rights and what they want from their life and from their world. There are NGO's working day and night, thankfully, to help women and youth, but it is a slow process. I can only dream and hope that in the future, the women and youth of India will be free to voice their ideas and free to change their world. I was reading an article today sent from my instructor, Sucharita, and it was talking about female education. This mom was saying that even though her family is very poor and they are living under a bridge, she wants her daughter, Durga, to get an education. She knows that is her only way out of the vicious cycle, and she doesn't want her daughter to have her life.

Now, I don't want to paint a picture of these victimized women that need to be pitied. In fact, these women are relentless, in a positive way. They are unstoppable. But they do need help in achieving their dreams. I have been blessed with the variety of women that I've met in India, and I hope that I can grow to be like them one day. If I could use one word to describe them it would be "gumption". Gumption means, "courage; spunk; guts." This is the epitome of the Indian women here. They bring a radical meaning to the word "fierce".

Why is a Raven Like a Writing Desk?

So often it becomes difficult to recognize truth. I'm not entirely certain that truth is so easy to come by anymore these days. For me, truth is something that is essential to living. I cannot understand people who speak falsely. I don't understand why someone would choose to live their life based on falsehood. It frightens me to think that there are people in this world that are so convincingly false. Why can't the entire world tell the truth? Why is that such an arduous task for us? I'm wondering this because today, we had a speaker from an NGO. This NGO works in Sonagachi, and the person today was sharing with us the work that this NGO is doing. However, the statistics presented showing that there was a decline in the minors involved in sex work seemed extremely unlikely, and there were no sources to back the claims. Also, this NGO's main goal is to legalize sex work, because they believe that most of these women chose to work in Sonagachi.

I just truly struggled with this presentation, and it's been bothering me for some time today. I don't want to blame this NGO or accuse them of lying, but I can't seem to believe them. How could that many women choose to work in a large red light district. I've heard that so many of them were trafficked or that many of them did it by force due to poverty or because their mother did it. If these women were given the option, how many of them would choose to leave? I am sure that there are some women who chose it and want equal rights, but how many are there? It doesn't seem probable, especially given the information I've been given by other people and other organizations. My roommate, Rita, suggested a wonderful article from a man that had traveled to Sonagachi and had encountered this NGO, actually, and he too was skeptical of them.

This has happened numerous times in India with other subjects, and it obviously must happen in the United States, but I don't understand why it still exists. Why does lying occur? Who is it benefiting? You. It benefits you, because you don't want to tell the truth, because it may be too difficult or put you in an awkward position. Well guess what, you are not the only person that exists in this world. Think of the countless people you are harming by lying. Imagine a world without falsities, without lying. Can you even imagine such a place? People have become so skeptical about life due to lies that they've been told in the past. I don't want to seem cold and skeptical, but today I was really ruffled by this presentation. Of course, I can't prove that this NGO is speaking falsely, and I don't want to point fingers, but I do want to draw attention to the fact that lying is always going to harm someone.

The truth will set you free. It's a quote often used, but I would rather add more to it. The truth will set others free. Those that you interact with each day, the other human beings deserve the truth from you. Gandhi spoke of a tree and the leaves that fall from this tree. He said that we spend our entire lives picking up these leaves of truth, pieces of truth, trying to understand it all, but we will never reach the tree. We will never fully understand the truth of this world. I can accept that. As much of a know-it-all as I am, I can accept that I will never know every truth of this world, but I would rather spend my entire life picking up leaves, getting closer than being lied to or telling lies to others. Each person deserves to live in the light of truth, so they can be set free.

Smile Like You Mean It

The Iron Chef Cookoff begins...

Do I have something on my face? Then why

are you laughing?!

Gravity conquers all folks

Just a stroll in Barabazar

U.F.O

When you travel around the world or go to somewhere new and exciting, your mind automatically is rolling and reeling into what you will discover and who you will be and all of the fabulous adventures you will partake in. You imagine yourself doing things you would never do, such as skydiving or swimming with sharks or chasing wild tigers on a safari. I had this in mind when I was thinking of India. I was thinking about bareback riding these beautiful, huge elephants in the middle of a lush green field. I imagined traveling down a jungle river, spotting tigers and other exotic animals. I imagined meditating on the rooftop during sunrise with a guru. So you can imagine that when I came to India and now that I’m living in Kolkata, it isn’t exactly what I pictured it to be.

I was reading in a book of mine about how to live each day and how to make each day count, yes extremely cheesy but entirely my kind of genre. Anyways, this woman was writing that so often people think that you have to live each and every day doing crazy things and making decisions you would never make, saying things you wouldn’t normally say and so on. However, she challenged those reading about a different idea. This idea she proposed went a little something like this: Instead of the previous version, why not live each day as you would usually do, but with more passion and more love and more understanding and more mercy and more beauty and more magic and more humor, etc.? I absolutely loved this idea, because being in India I kept thinking, “Oh, I need to do this and see that, because if I don’t I’ll regret it!” But the thing is, I’m living each day in India soaking things in and trying to genuinely appreciate India. Of course, I don’t always do this because I get irritated or hot or tired, but it is a constant process in my mind. I don’t feel the need to do dangerous or adventurous thing each day, but I do feel that each day should be valued and that I should improve who I am from the day before.

India has become my constant companion because it is with me every day, challenging me, astounding me, hating me and loving me all at the same time. Someone I was talking to the other day said something that truly hit me. He said, “Take in as much as you can while you’re in India, because once you step off that plane, you will never see the U.S the same way you once did.” Now, I can totally understand what he is saying, and although I haven’t experienced that yet, I can just imagine how different my perspective and outlook will be once home. India is such a blessing, and although the heat is unbearable at times and the crowd on the metro makes me wince, I would never trade it for anything else. The people in India have become so dear to me, and I will never allow myself to forget who they are. India is not one thing; there is no way that someone could use one word to describe India. India will take you by surprise, and India will show you things that you didn’t want to know about yourself, but we all need that. So I encourage everyone to find their own India. Find something or someone or some place that challenges you and astounds you, hates you and loves you all at the same time. Wait and see how surprised you will be.

I Got Sunshine in a Bag

Spreading the love in Kolkata

Meant for me...alas a peaceful home in Kolkata

My little friend waiting for me in my room!

An Affair to Remember

You Can’t Carry it With You if You Want to Survive

Words cannot even begin to explain the joy that I felt and the tears that I shed and the relief that washed over me and the comfort that blanketed me and the love that astounded me when I embraced my mom and dad today. Luckily, I am someone who loves change and new adventures, and I rarely get homesick, which is a blessing. However, seeing my mom and dad and being with them reminds me how much I love them and what a blessing they are in my life. I mean, they came all the way to Kolkata, India just to see me. This vacation has been extremely challenging for them and quite an experience, but they just kept telling me, we just wanted to see you. Such an unconditional and overwhelming love that I have in my parents.

This visit hasn’t been what either my parents or I expected, but isn’t that the epitome of India

for you? So in actuality, they have experienced the “true” India. To clarify, dad received the

traditional blessing of food poisoning while he was in Jaipur. He was quite sick, to be serious,

and ended up back in the hotel room with a doctor. He has strict instructions as to what he can

and can’t eat, and he has to take rest frequently. Unfortunately, this means much hotel time in

Kolkata and little Kolkata time. As disappointed as we all were the he couldn’t see parts of

Kolkata, I was able to spend the most alone time and us time with my parents that I probably

won’t be able to do for a while, even when home. We were all able to see the Mother House,

which is where Mother Teresa lived and where she is now buried, and we all absolutely loved it.

It was an incredibly beautiful experience, and this immense peace washed over us all as we

walked through the door to be greeted by the women in blue and white.

The rest of the day, dad went back to the hotel to lie down, and mom and I went to the Victoria

Memorial, ate lunch at Flurry’s, walked in the Park Street Cemetery, and then she came and

listened to a talk given by one of my elders at Prayasam. It was rewarding to show her around

the area where I go to school and to have her truly understand my blogs now that she’s seen

where I live. Even though my parents and I are extremely close, we are connected even more by the

bond that we share by both coming to India and seeing India. My mom was even able to ride the metro,

which I have been humorously dreaming of since I came to India. I spent the rest of the night with my

parents in the hotel, and even though some might think that this sound boring or unfortunate because

they didn’t get to see Kolkata, I treasured those moments with them, and I truly think that is the most

time I will be able to spend alone with them, even after I get back from India. In fact, even though I

would never wish food poisoning on my father, I was thankful that I had so much intimate time with my

parents just discussing our lives and being with each other. So many times, we as human beings find it

essential to constantly be moving, but this allows us little time to just be with each other. I rarely receive

this gift anymore, and I was able to savor just being with my parents in India, what more could a girl ask

for?

It was such a shifting experience to show my parents India. They were understandably overwhelmed by

India and constantly amazed at the chaos and various characteristics that comprise what India has been

for so long and what it is today. They continued to comment on how proud they were of me,

and it was such a strange feeling because I had never really thought about it. I knew India was

going to be a difficult country to live in, but then again, I chose it so it was my responsibility to

make the most of it. I don’t think that I realize right now, how much of an effect that India will

have on me when I come home. Sure, right now I’m a little burnt out and having my parents with me

was so comforting, I do miss home more than before, but India will always be mine. It will never leave

me, and I would never want it to. Anywhere you travel that is different from where you are is going to

be challenging, but the life that you live there will be forever changed. I will never wrap my mind around

India, and I can only hope that it will leave me with hope and extreme love for those around me. I didn’t

come to India to “find myself”, but India did find me. It has searched through every fiber of my being

and has and will continue to use me until there is nothing left. I still make mistakes every day, but I am

also learning from them greatly. My parents so graciously gave me a necklace in anticipation for my 21^st

birthday. It is breathtaking and handmade with an inscription given to the artisan from my mom. The

inscription reads, “We cannot all do great things. We can only do small things with great love.” This will

follow me for the rest of my life.

Scrambling for the Pause Button

Days. Time. These are funny concepts to me. Some people could care less what day or time it is, completely absorbed in the now. Some people care greatly about what day or time it is because they have so much to accomplish and they worry it will not get finished. We look behind us at our past, we look forward in anticipation for the future, and we see ourselves in the present, living.

I must admit that I've been struggling with this concept of time. If any of you know me closely, you very well know that I am someone who get bored easily. I am enamored with something or some place, but if I spend my days with that one thing or place, I become restless. I'm ready to move on to the next adventure, to experience other things and places. Lately, I've been finding myself getting bored. It's not entirely due to Kolkata, because I believe that Kolkata is a city that would never bore you, but that's just the thing. It's the city that will never bore you. However, if you live in a certain part or walk the same streets or go to the same places, it starts to seem monotonous. The splendor and charm are forgotten, and you are darting your eyes looking for other distractions.

Darjeeling was a beautiful vacation, and I still wish I was there because it was a change of pace. It was completely different from Kolkata, and it was extremely exciting. It left me jazzed, ready for more. Returning to Kolkata has been quite difficult, and it's only been a day. We become so busy with school, service learning, homework, etc that we rarely have time to explore where we actually live. I'm not only referring to the famous sites such as the Victoria Memorial or the Marble Palace, etc, I am referring more to the random streets and alleyways, the dive restaurants that leave you wanting more. We've had a couple of opportunities to explore, and I have loved every single minute of it, but it is not enough. I understand the responsibilities that we have to school and to service learning, but I wish there was more time. So that's how we get back to this concept of time.

Time is encroaching upon me, because, well I might as well say it, it's nearly April. And not that I am counting down the days, although I am excited to go home, but it's only a month really, which just doesn't seem real. I know that I will not leave Kolkata with regrets, because I honestly don't believe in regrets. They bother me too much and they take up too much of my brain space, that I just leave them be. I'm not worried about regretting not going certain places or doing certain things, I am more concerned with now, with the time that I have right now, resting in my lap.

I saw a quote today, because I've been soaking up quotes like syrup on pancakes, and I couldn't agree more with it. The part I loved the most said, "I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take..." by John Burroughs. Don't ask me who that is, because I don't know, nor will I pretend to. But I love what he said. I still go to bed with thoughts speeding across, desperately wanting my attention because they had escaped their chance during the day. There is so much to see and so much to do, but more importantly there is so much to live. So here is what I proposing to myself, and then telling you which is kind of strange now that I think about it, even if I get bored at times or wish that I could go explore, wherever I am at, I am going to soak up the people. I am going to get lost in thinking of everything that I've done, and I will get to the places and things that I will get to, and India will be marvelous. It won't prevent the boredom, because I am easily prone to that, but it will help. Leave it to me to become bored in a city where things and places and people are constantly changing.

Where People Smile Back at You

 
Darjeeling. I have already decided that I will indeed be returning to Darjeeling in my life. Even though I certainly will not do it justice, I will say that it is sort of India, Switzerland and Colorado all combined into one magical place. Our journey has quite the tale, and I am more than enamored with this quaint mountain stop, as it is dearly referred to.

We took off from Kolkata at 10:00 pm on a sleeper train! What an experience! We traveled by the common sleeper train, and I was able to share a cabin with some of my group members. It was such an interesting experience that I'm still not sure what to make of it. We had a few strange Indian men staring at us for a while, then we were solicited to by transsexuals, and then I slept on top of my bag with my passport literally in my underwear as I fell asleep. With all of this madness and chaos...I slept like a baby. I was rocked back and forth all night, and I woke up ready for Darjeeling!

I won't go into every single thing that we did in Darjeeling, because I think that would be silly and boring, but I will recap my highlights. Darjeeling has a small-town feel, but it is quite populated. There are people of a more Asian descent in Darjeeling because it is so close to Nepal and Tibet. Everyone dresses like an Indie snow person, wearing miss-matched blankets and shawls while looking so hipster without even trying. The dogs are the furriest, most beautiful dogs I've seen in India. I wanted to gather a large number of them and take them to the mountains with me for warmth and companionship.

The first night, we just bopped around Darjeeling, enjoying the streets, the shops, the smells, the overall splendor of this fond city I love. Every shop keeper that we went to kindly called out, “Scarf, mam?” “Mam, what are you looking for?” But it wasn’t in a demanding or irritating manner the way that it is quite often in Kolkata. It was a gentle suggestion, and almost all of the sellers were women. You don’t see that in Kolkata due to the difference of gender norms in both societies. We went through knick-knack shops, searching among treasures, deciding whether they were assembly-line replicas or genuine artifacts of the ancients.

Early in the morning we arose to see if we could view these mysterious Himalayas and to see the beauty of the sunrise. So many times I’ve seen the sunset and marveled at its merging of colors, running across the sky, but I have not reveled in many sunrises. This perhaps has a correlation with my loathing of early mornings and my not-so-sunny disposition when I awake early. We were admiring the sunrise while singing the “Circle of Life” to encourage the sun and to mark the momentous occasion when, and I do mean literally, the peaks of the Himalayas appeared out of the air! It was a bit of magician trickery and who knew that mountains could be so spritely? However, we did see the peaks, even though it seems but a smudge on a photo.

 After this delightful viewing, I retired to the comfort of a Western restaurant, Glenery’s where I had a warm cup of cappuccino, eggs, and yes, I’ll admit, bacon. I do love my bacon. The next stop we ventured to was the Japanese temple and the Peace Pagoda. It was marvelous. We viewed gigantic, looming statues of Buddha, but the size of these statues did not diminish the friendship I felt when looking up into those big, gold eyes. The Peace Pagoda was such a treat to see, especially being a Peace Studies major. I knew somewhere, some people understood the value of a Peace Studies major. I only hope this catches on more in the US. The sign in front of the Pagoda read, “The very appearance of the Peace Pagoda in itself is an embodiment of Buddha which radiates the message of non violence and it purifies the land and mind of the people. Thus the Pagoda stands as the core of spirituality and peace”. I wish the message of nonviolence and the purification of the land and mind of the people could be written across every war-torn land in this world.

After this reflection, we attempted and I am thankful to say achieved a daunting feat. We survived the cable car that carries passengers across the vast hills and trees of the Darjeeling terrain. Quite a bit ago there was a terrible accident in which the cable car broke, killing some people. It has opened recently, and according to the newspapers, it has now passed the safety regulations. I’m still not terribly convinced, but I did survive and the view was breathtaking. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t whispering a thousand prayers under my breath as we glided on top of the depths and crevices of the hard, rocky, low, ground.

Sunday morning was our date with Tiger Hill. From here, we watched another sunrise and also the Himalayas. We had a better view this time from up high, and we were able to watch the beauty of creation in action. I actually don’t believe there is a more marvelous sight than watching nature or what is natural come to life right in front of you. I like to compare it to having a baby. My other highlight from Sunday was that we went to a museum, and I was able to see a momma monkey nurse her baby monkey. Of course I took a picture of it, and of course I stared at this for quite some time. I also met the most proper bear who sat on his bum while eating an apple. He was a sincere gentleman, and I know that I would have been quite proud to have him as a prom date.

Overall, which I actually despise that word because it just makes everything so vague, Darjeeling is a place that will always remain dear to my heart. I am already envisioning myself coming back, but for longer this time and perhaps with a gorgeous, grizzly, European hiker. I’m just saying. But seriously, it was a majestical wonder, and it is creating severe loathing of Kolkata now that I am back. I do miss the mountains, the colder weather, the smiles of the beautiful people, the small-town feel of the community, the beautiful dogs, the quiet, the forests, I could go on for eternity. The point is, it was my favorite part of India so far, and I am most certain it will remain so. If I recommend someone to India, I am demanding that they go to Darjeeling. To miss this eloquent hill stop would be a shame.

Here Comes the Sun

The mesmerizing woods that I stared at for hours.

So many times I've seen the sunset, but

rarely have I seen the sunrise.

Enjoying my cup of coffee in my new Navajo-like

blanket that I bought in Darjeeling!

Barely visible before you are the Himilayas. It

was totally worth getting up at 3:30 in the morning!

In the Land of Bliss and Meditation

I just feel like India is going by so stinkin fast! People always say that about study abroad and normally I just smile politely and ignore them, but THEY'RE RIGHT!!!! I don't like to think about it too much, but I feel like India is becoming a blur. I thought about the first couple of weeks of India today, and I just chuckled to myself. I must have looked like a lemur with those huge, wide eyes darting my head every which way to watch for what was coming at me. I don't think I've gotten "used to" India by any means, but I do think that I no longer hold a constant lemur face while strolling down the side-walk. 


Yesterday I was thinking about all the types of people that I've met and the various walks of life that they've come from. I was just amazed at how many stories I've been invited into by meeting these eclectic and wondrous human beings. When I think of the "world" I picture a space-shot photo of the globe: big, blue, green and mysterious. It's crazy to look at a globe and place your finger on your state or even your city, but then, it's even crazier to take your finger from your state or your city and move it all the way across to India, or wherever you may have travelled. Then, think about all of the people that you've just stood next to or walked past from your city to the other side of the world. I like to think of Google maps and how if you continuously zoom in on your city you can get to your street to your home to your backyard. It's actually quite frightening but awesome at the same time. I just picture my entire journey as viewed through the lens of Google maps. Gee whiz. 


So I've been asked by the CSB/SJU newspaper, The Record, to write a short opinion article on what I think India is and what sets it apart from other countries. You know, just the basics.  Now, I'm not sharing this to brag about my 5 minutes of fame, but I'm sharing this so that you realize or maybe not, how difficult this is for me. Summarize India in 500 words or less. I am overjoyed to do it, don't get me wrong, but I just simply wont do it justice. As I was writing it last night I realized that unless you come to India and you see India, you won't understand India. I don't intend to come off as pompous or experienced, I am telling the truth. Even I don't feel like I know India, because I'll only have 4 months here. Want to know something? This is why I love India so much. It isn't a land of Westernized stereotypes of elephants and monkeys or exotic dancers and jewel palaces or slum- filled streets and garbage. It is so much more. It is a country of numerous cultures. An article I read before I left said that if you are going to India hoping to assimilate to the culture and to learn the culture, you will be significantly disappointed. India cannot be encompassed into one dominant culture, not even 10 dominant cultures. India is its people and the passion and stories that those people carry with them every day. 


Yesterday, I had a lovely experience and a rather humorous one as well. I took it as a reminder from my guardian angel, and I am so relieved that my guardian angel has a fantastic sense of humour. My room-mates and I were trying to hail a cab but were having zero luck in this endeavour. This woman was walking towards us with a cup of change, asking and begging for money. We gave her the fruit we had and then attempted to get a cab. While we are literally putting our bodies in front of taxi's, this woman starts yelling at the cabs in Bangla to take us to City Center, which is where we live. We would get a cab, and then she would march right to the driver's window and demand him to take us to City Center. She did this numerous times, and I was just in awe of her. All she wanted was a few rupees to buy rice. She wasn't asking for anything more, and she was probably the first woman I've met in India with that much gumption and gusto. I really, truly liked her, and I thought to myself, wow, what an incredible way to be reminded of my guardian angel. Although we didn't get a cab, she gave me more than enough joy for the night, and I still chuckle as I write this. 

Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast

In most instances, it is considered negative when parents don’t tell their children no. Children who are not told no are regularly seen as spoiled and selfish. “They’ll never be ready for the real world,” commentators say. “Their parents should have raised them properly,” bystanders advise. As much as I value others’ opinions, I continue to stubbornly maintain that as a child that is never told no, I believe that I am as ready for the world as anyone else, and I also believe this is so because my parents raised me according to their values. I am ready because, in fact, they never told me no.

When I say this, I am not implying trivial things such as a Disney journal or gymnastics lessons, although I am still holding that against both of my parents. I am referring to vital things such as the Navajo Reservation or India or missionary work. My parents have never told me that such vital matters as these are not possible. Although dad does offer his occasional financial spreadsheet or mom warns me of safety, both of them know and believe that I am possible. I say “I am possible” because my visions and my passions encompass who I am. I would not love as ardently or brainstorm as fantastically if it was not for the absence of the word “no” from the lips of my parents. Each time I would approach them with a spontaneous idea for my life or some self-created dream that absolutely lacks all rationality, my parents would return a gentle smile that proves what I already know, “Of course you can”. I can hear my mom and dad say to each other, “She’ll do it her way,” or “We’re going to be doing this a lot with her”.

I write this because lately I have seen many youth and young adults who hear no quite often from their parents. Their imagination is stifled and rationality has become their constant companion. They truly don’t have much of a choice. I can’t fathom that lifestyle, and it is due to my parents’ never ending encouragement that I’ve never had to. I see life as an ever-changing masterpiece to which my parents have supplied the paint. My favorite quote that my parents and I share often is this: “There is no use trying’, said Alice… ‘One can’t believe impossible things.’ ‘I dare say you haven’t had much practice,’ said the Queen. ‘When I was your age, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.’”

                                           

This quote, as most know, comes from Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. I happened upon this towards the beginning of my college career and after sharing it with my parents, it has just stuck with us all. There are moments when I am even Alice, doubting my capabilities and my dreams, but then the voice of the Queen or in this case my parents, replies, “Why?”

My hope for every child and youth and young adult in this world is that they can have parents that genuinely and authentically believe in them as mine have, do and always will. I am who I am because of my parents. I think we often forget what our motivator is or what are our motivators in our life, what pushes us to strive for something when the rest of the world seems to be saying, “You’re crazy, that’ll never happen”. My parents are my motivators and without them, I never would have realized the unique beauty that I behold to this world or continued with the path of the Peace Studies or found my home on the Navajo Reservation or ventured to the mysterious country of India. Before I left for India my mom told me that she was struggling with how to let me go, something that will be a continuous battle she has discovered. She said to me that as she way praying to God she realized that I was never hers to own. I was given to her on loan from God and it is her duty to send me out in the world according to His wishes. How many moms could do that or even admit that to their children? She is a woman of pure love. Then there’s my dad. Whenever I tell him of an accomplishment or job opportunity he always tells me that it comes to no surprise to him because of the fact that he always knows my potential. He is a man of authentic faith. With this pure love and authentic faith combined into two incredibly motivational parents, how could I live my life any differently?

There’s a Moment You Got Your Flash On

I got sunshine on my face.

Just a little Holi love spreading around.

You'll never guess what caused us to giggle.

Oh yes, the British are coming!

                                                

String of Polaroids

I’ve begun to realize that life is a series of small, and what seems like insignificant moments that define who you are. I always used to tell myself that life is comprised of momentous and grand instances when either something incredibly dramatic or extremely fantastical happens. However, even though those moments are significant in their own way, they are not what I look back and reflect on when thinking about my life. For instance, this week I have come across several beautiful small moments that are adding to the life that I call my own.

On Thursday, I celebrated the holiday, Holi, with my study abroad group, a friend, Shreya, from St. Xavier’s and then the numerous children of her apartment complex. We spent a good portion of the day running from the children who were screaming, “This is for the Indians! Get those Britishers!” There was colored powder flying everywhere and water soaking every inch of my clothing and small, ruthless children attacking me, but it was such an awesome experience. I was able to be a kid again and to see the sheer joy of playing with powder and water. Holi is said to be a holiday of starting anew and recreating your life, and I couldn’t imagine a better way to recreate my life. Of course, I had color in places where color just shouldn’t be, but what’s a little smurf and alien pigmentation when you had a jolly time?

On Friday, we went to Anjali which is an organization that works for the rights of those suffering from mental illnesses. It’s true in India as it’s true in the U.S, and unfortunately, everywhere that people suffering from mental illness are looked down upon and ignored or pushed aside in society. To me, this is so incredibly sad, because these people are human beings. Human beings. Do we forget what that means sometimes? Do we forget that at any time that could be us and we would want the same mercy that we don’t give to those who do suffer? I heard a wise saying that talks about how God would respond if someone asked Him why people suffer, and it goes like this: “Numerous of my children are in bondage because my other children have not manifested their calling.” This is such a resonating statement. Anjali is certainly an organization that is responding to the call that each human being holds. We went to the mental hospital where the men stay, and my eyes were opened to beautiful, beautiful, human beings. My most unforgettable moment was sitting on straw mats across from these wonderful men who suffer from mental illness and they were singing us the most beautiful song from Tagore. They had all of their eyes closed and were singing with such emotion and passion. Honestly, it is one of the most amazing sights I have ever been blessed to hold.

Today, our NGO Prayasam had their Sakha Gala that I commented on previously, and it was such a joyful celebration. Many children from the RAC village came, and they were extremely hospitable and kind and humorous and just so empowering. These children or youth I should say come from such difficult backgrounds where they’re told that they can’t receive an education so they should just settle for domestic work or the girls should just get married. None of them are told that they can receive an education and they can achieve a job that they would actually enjoy. These children that we met today though had such ambition and gumption. After the talks, I was privileged to meet many of the youth and they all asked my name and offered me their mishit (or sweet) and asked to take my picture.  It was such a happy moment, and it just gave me such hope for those youth that experience struggle and heartache, because even though they face so much opposition, there is perseverance. Their smiles brightened my thoughts of the future, because if I know that the youth are smiling, then I know that their life is not unbearable. If those youth can laugh and smile those authentic smiles at me, then I know that their future is possible. Those smiles are some of the best motivators possible.

Another small moment is that lately, when I’ve been giving fruit to some of the people on Park Street, I have been gifted the most beautiful smiles. It’s only really happened recently or maybe I’ve just noticed it recently, but when I’ve given the older women outside of the metro an orange or the man by the bank an orange, I have received the most wonderful smile. I would always leave the people I met on the street just feeling awful because I always felt like I could do more, and trust me I still do. However, it’s been much more heart-warming to see their smiles and to know that they do need that fruit. I’ve even said hello to them in Bangla, and they respond with a hello or with a smile. Even that tiny human interaction leaves both of us, at least I hope both, feeling that interconnectedness that humans beings hold but rarely realize. I am certain that smile or that hello does more for me than for the older woman or the man, but it is the best moment of my day and one that leaves me hopeful for the next day. These are moments treasured now, because they weren’t present before.

See, or maybe you don’t because I’m the one experiencing them, but hopefully you see that these moments, these small and what seem like insignificant moments are actually the moments that create what I love to call my life. Running on a field being splashed in the face with color from kids yelling, “Get the Britishers!” to listening to the most wondrous spiritual song from beautiful men who are labeled, “crazy” to high-fiving and taking Bollywood photos with the youth from the RAC village to saying hello and smiling at the woman by the metro or the man by the bank are the moments that I wish I could string with twinkling lights in my mind and keep forever. Without truly realizing it, these moments are creating the woman that I hope I will be proud of one day. If I never had these moments or if I didn’t realize the meaning of these instances, I would have an unfortunate life. These moments are like the laughing or hugging pictures that you capture on a Polaroid and keep forever, because those posed, matching-outfit photos just don’t express your life like you wish it would. My life is a series of Polaroid shots.

The Good with the Not so Good

I figured that as long as I’m in India, and most of you aren’t, I should create another post. Sometimes I feel like those people who write an entire book on their life because they think people want to read it; I certainly hope you readers don’t think that I believe that. Although if I was to ever write a book, it would be on the best seller list for sure.

Anyways, Monday was just another ordinary day in India, as if those are possible, but Prayasam was a lovely surprise, as is always the case. Amlan, our founder, has asked Rita and I to plan a “Sakha Gala” for Prayasam. I’m going to assume that most of you don’t know what that means so I’ll explain. “Sakha” means “friend” in Sanskrit and well, “gala” is just a really good time! This gala is to celebrate girl empowerment, basically. Prayasam’s theme this year is “Connecting girls, inspiring lives”, and this gala is dedicated to that. It’s also dedicated to a 16 year old girl named TUKTUIKI. She comes from a village slum and struggled with education greatly. However, she decided to test for Cosmetology school, and ended up testing 3^rd in the nation! She is just graduating and will be joining an upscale salon soon. We will be acknowledging TUKTUKI at this event, and Rita and I, with the help of our Prayasam family, created a makeup starter kit for her with top of the line brands. We’ll be presenting her with this at the celebration. Also, Sikha, one of the youth, created a documentary interviewing around 15 girls from different villages, including TUKTUKI, and she’ll be showing that at this gala. I also created the electronic invitations, Rita edited a short biography on TUKTUKI, and both of us are picking out the refreshments and the decorations. Rita and I are planning an Indian gala! Never dreamed I would be doing this in India!

On a less cheerful note, Tuesday was incredibly difficult for our entire group. As strange as this next sentence will sound, it is accurate. Our group visited the Red Light District otherwise known as Sonagachi in Kolkata around 6:00 pm. We had to choose 5 locations to visit and write on in Kolkata, and Sonagachi was one of the locations that someone had, and our whole group decided to go. We traveled with our director, Sucharita and her male friend who is knows Northern Kolkata more. The first street we went down was almost as if it came out of a movie or a dream. It was pretty vacant, quiet, and certainly eerie. The street was filled with decrepit British buildings, and it was extremely filthy. The second street was like this, but I was certainly not prepared for the third street. I won’t elaborate about anything that I saw because one, I don’t want to and two, it’s not appropriate. I’m still so confused on whether I regret it or not. Rita said it perfectly when she said, “We had not place being there.” We weren’t going to gawk or ah at them, but we wanted to see Sonagachi because of how close we live to it, and some of us felt like we were avoiding it. There are just so many mixed feelings going through my mind right now, and I can’t seem to find a hold on any one thought. Let’s just say that it’s the first time I’ve felt truly unsafe in Kolkata.

Now I'm Not a Highly Metaphysical Man

The forbidden fruit...i'm sorry I had to.

Sweaty with SWAG.

The beautiful Shreya.

Boys in Da Club with my Alibaba's On

Well it's been some time since I've blogged, and there is just too much that happens in India that I can't go that long without forgetting! I'll highlight for you what the happenin in India as of lately. So, this past Wednesday, we received the fabulous joy of seeing "Swan Lake". Folks, this was not your typical "Swan Lake." This was Indian style, which means it was filled with flavor and spice and tap, flamenco, lyrical and all that jazz. It was beautiful, and I truly enjoyed watching the lead "swan" woman dance, but it really didn't make that much sense. I know the story behind "Swan Lake" thanks to The Swan Princess and Black Swan, but the ending to this production didn't make any sense to me. In fact, I thought it was intermission. It just shows how artsy and hip I am.

On Thursday, I was confronted with what may possibly have been my greatest challenge in India thus far. I played Cricket. Yes, that’s right ladies and gents. I, Becca Lais, played Indian Cricket. This was no ordinary game of Cricket, however, because the team that we played against redefined the word “intense”. It was a couple of us foreign gals along with several Indian women and our friend Ishani. Except for Ishani, it was everyone’s first time playing Cricket. This was not so for the other team. Apparently, they had been practicing for quite some time and were ready to rock and roll. I found out that I am not too bad of a pitcher…though I’m not sure that that’s true, because I think Ishani was just being nice. Anyways, watch out super-intense Cricket team, next time, I’ll be waiting by the wickets, ready for you.

Friday, I tore up the dance floor. We have this club in Salt Lake called Afraa, and it is a sweet hang out for the ladies on Friday nights. So, every Friday there is two free mixed drinks for the ladies, and guess what I got: The Afraa Liplock. Virgin. I have no idea what it was, but I trusted it since it wasn’t alcoholic. It was delicious, and next time, I’m springing for a Shirley Temple. We were in a group of 7, and we entered the dance floor with a mission: to leave every Indian on the dance floor in awe. Did we accomplish our mission? How silly that you even question that. We, at one point, had everyone off the dance floor, staring at our hippity hoppity bomb dance moves. Or maybe they were just frightened by our crumping Beyoncé and moonwalking MJ. We left that dance floor in lake of sweat.

Saturday was the day that I liberated my palate. Drew, Rita, Brenna and I traveled to Burrabazar, which is a back alley- maze market. The streets are extremely narrow; there are packages of mysteries balancing on men’s heads almost knock you senseless, carts of goodies threatening to grab your big toe, and Indian people playing bumper cars with your shoulders. It was marvelous. My favorite part is when we were on our way to the huge bridge over the river, and we were walking down this street that smelled of apple cinnamon and old spices. It had handmade soap, spices, colored powder for the holiday, water guns, random food we’d never seen, and it was all so rich and fresh. Brenna and I plan to return so we can breathe it all in. Near the bridge, Brenna and I saw that a man was selling fresh fruit, including…WATERMELON. This just proved far too tempting for my taste buds and Brenna’s as well, so we broke the cardinal rule, and we ate STREET FRUIT. Woe is my stomach, except that this iron take I’ve built up over the past two months handled the fruit like a champ.

Saturday night Brenna and I spent the evening in Kavi Nazrul with our friend, Shreya who we meet at St. Xavier’s. I’d never taken the metro that far south into Kolkata, and I discovered that the metro opens into the outdoors as well! There I am just standing on the metro staring at the same dark tunnel I do every day, when all of a sudden I see GREEN PALM TREES! It truly was a small treasure. Shreya had friends over and we sat and listened to them speak and sing Bangla, which was lovely. Shreya’s parents are extremely generous and wonderful, and her mom made the most mouth-watering custard. She knows the soft spot of my tummy. It was so interesting to spend the night in a flat that is in the city. I’m not used to lots of noise at night, and it actually didn’t bother me at all. I enjoyed hearing it, because it reminded me that other people were up while I was going to bed. The ode of Kolkata singing me sweetly to sleep.