Family News from Back Home

While at this conference, I received an email on my phone from my sister stating that her husband was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.  It has spread to multiple systems of his body.  He was having some pain, went to Urgent Care, was sent to the ER, then checked into the hospital.  The next day, he had a tumor surgically removed, resulting in intense pain.  It has been a whirlwind for them.  He is recovering in the hospital and discussing treatment options with doctors.  Hopefully he will return hom in a day or two.  Please offer your prayers, positive thoughts and love for his recovery and for the well-being of the entire family.  Thank you.  

Rama Rajamannam, Tribal King

Today I met a tribal king.  Some local men at the class I’m attending offered to introduce my friend Tiji and I to Rama Rajamannam.  King Rama is all of 27 years old and has been king for one year.  His uncle was king before him and of all nephews, he was chosen by 12 leaders to succeed.  Nephews (sister’s sons, specifically), not sons, are candidates and voting is only done after the death of the king, so during childhood, King Rama learned that he might someday be king but it wasn’t definitely in the bag as his cousins were also in the running.  For future reference, King Rama does have a sister and she does have a son.  

Once chosen, one has the ability to deny the role but once they accept, there is no turning back.  When asked how he felt when he was chosen, I caught the word “santosh” in his response; happy.  King Rama presides over 40+ colonies (making him an emperor, actually) comprised of 108 families from multiple tribal groups.  Because the colonies are spread out, in the past, messengers were sent for communication, but today, cell phones suffice.  King Rama is the only remaining tribal king in the northern half of Kerala, as other tribal groups have opted out of their monarchy systems over time.  He wears a silver band that has been worn by 17 kings now.  

Tribal communities have received land from the government but over time some land has been taken away from them due to corruption.  The threat of losing land continues.  The Mannam tribals no longer live in the forest, but in homes.  Most of the community members are physical laborers at the large tea plantations in the highland area.  They have a festival in February each year.  Festivals are the only time they wear traditional attire.  They celebrate with traditional dances and music.  Traditional medicine exists but most community members seek allopathic medicine today.  With the system of 12 cabinet members, King Rama says that their governance works very well and fairly.  They have a criminal justice system in place and depending on the severity of the crime, it is handled at different levels.  King Rama personally handles the most severe cases.  If a man is charged with disrespecting an elder, he is to bend forward and hold the weight of heavy rocks on his back for a period of time.  If a man is charged with abusing his wife, he will have to make a vow to discontinue and will be monitored by others.  Twice weekly, workers visit each home to assess things like this as well as health and other aspects of family well-being.  Sounds like social workers to me!  

(I wore my finest sweatshirt for the occasion...Not prepared to meet a King!)

Another day, another adventure & learning experience.  

Zero-Budget Spiritual Farming, Day 2

It’s day 2 of the Zero-Budget Spiritual Farming workshop and the day’s seminar has begun but the speaker is speaking in Malayalam.  I’m feeling a bit restless.  It’s a cool morning and I crave coffee.  Anyway, I’m trying to settle my mind by writing.  

Yesterday was really lovely.  I didn’t get much sleep the night before but got up early to hop a bus to meet my friend Tiji.  She is a PhD candidate from my department researching food security in Kerala.  We then took another us up into the gorgeous mountains for 3 hours.  Somehow after about 20 minutes, the conductor’s seat at the front of the bus freed up and I was nearest so I settled in.  It was incredible.  Sitting solo in front with panoramic views of the sun bursting behind palm trees with gigantic, hazy mountains in the background.  I felt blessed by the opportunity.  I’m a lucky lady.  

Really.  I’m so incredibly fortunate.  I don’t know exactly where my opportunistic nature ends and luck begins but I’m very grateful.  My frequent wish, however, is that my eyes cad live camera mode and you could all experience this with me, visually at the very least.  But even that is not sufficient as it is best for all senses to be engaged in a place like this.  But eyecam would do.  I bet I can find an Indian engineer to work on that.  

The workshop has been great thus far.  Zero-Budget Spiritual Farming by Subhash Palekar.  As he spoke in English I felt giddy because I could actually learn new, interesting information.  Somehow Tiji signed us up to be “delegates” which means we do not have to pay the 750 rupees if we take down and submit notes each day.  It took me two hours in the evening to type my notes and there are 5 more days of this.  I might prefer to pay the $15.  But the pressure of writing notes helps me to engage and better understand, I think.  

Wherever I go, people are curious about the foreigner.  Here it’s been nice because when I meet people I can ask about their interest in Zero-Budget Spiritual Farming and share information about the system of food and agriculture in the US.  

Conversations are engaging.  I’ll probably make a separate blog about the content of the workshop when it’s finished.  For now, this delegate is enjoying.  

The food has been good.  The past 3 days at home we had no cooking gas so I only ate salads, fruit and sandwiches.  It’s nice to have hot vegetarian meals.  Rice 3x/day.  I’m gaining weight, and quite quickly, I think.  This week, I ate 19 consecutive meals of rice and curries like the one here with zero utensils!  It was great practice so hopefully I'm a little less awkward.   

The weather here is cool.  Too cold at times.  It’s a reprieve from sticky-hot Kottayam.  I bought a “Michigan Physical Education” sweatshirt at a shop here yesterday.  But cold-water bucket-bathing is pretty intense when it’s cold outside.  I did not so much enjoy that.  

From Challenge to Change

I haven’t written in awhile. I hit the 2-month mark.  At the preparatory Ambassadorial Scholar orientation seminar, I recall previous Rotary scholars warning us of the 2-month mark - where all the awe and intrigue fade to annoyance and frustration.  When I first arrived, I could sit in utter chaos, in a state of confusion for hours and kind of love it.  Now, the charm of such situations has warn off a bit.  In fact, last week, things hit a point where I questioned if I could do this.  Thankfully, my despair gripped me for only about two days before I came up with a plan to make some changes and that refueled me.  The major contributing factors to my worries were (and please don’t read these as complaints, just challenges and explanation of my experience)...

1. My classes have been held only about 50% of the time because instructors do not come.  The idea is that we are to spend all day in the department library and if a professor comes, we have class.  The library has a wealth of books but the routine was wearing on me.  I see the effect on other students, too.  Some juggle school and work and it pains me to see them sitting idly while they could be attending to other aspects of their lives.  Others take buses and trains for hours to reach campus...and then they wait.  There are days we have no classes at all.  I celebrated a day where all 4 classes were held for the first time only a week ago.  Attendance is low and I’ve even found myself blowing off an afternoon or a day here and there, as I figure the likelihood of no class.  The university is cracking down on student attendance but when professors are absent, it affects motivation of students.  
2. One the occasion that we have class, I have a hard time identifying the value to me for a couple of reasons.  Some content is relevant and interesting and some professors are passionate while much of the content I have surpassed and some of the professors don’t seem to have a passion for teaching.  Also, much of the content is taught in Malayalam.  The instruction at the post-graduate level is to be in English, but in reality, it’s often not.  The inability to understand and participate has been stifling.  
3. Due to various circumstances beyond my control, I haven’t yet gotten involved with Rotary here.  First, it’s problematic as I have duties to fulfill as condition of my scholarship and second, I was looking forward to getting involved in service projects.

All of this resulted in a feeling of lack of purpose and diminished hope as things only seemed to be worsening.  After my two days of “I want to go home” self-pity, I sprung into plans for action.  When I regained my energy, I recalled, “Oh yeah.  This is what I do.”  A short period of down & outness, then springing into ideas and action.  

So my idea was to approach my director and propose a course of independent study which would allow for more meaningful activity and cultural exchange.  I wrote up a letter and proposal and he approved.  He was very understanding.  Success!  So I can now spend more time reading, learning in the community, touring local NGOs, taking morning yoga classes, etc.  And before I left his office I had plans to attend 2 weeklong seminars; one this week on Zero-Budget Spiritual Farming (a grassroots, social movement), and a Gandhian philosophy camp over Christmas break.  Hooray!

Incidentally, things with Rotary also picked up.  My sponsor counselor apologized for his unavailability and assigned a new counselor who called me immediately and enthusiastically assured me that he would help me get involved upon my return next week.  

Things are shifting and looking up.  

Aside from these concerns, I want to assure everyone interested that I am incredibly grateful and enjoying my time here.  Each day is filled with beautiful moments and exchanges.  Every moment presents flashes of unexpected beauty and complexity.  

Today

I know.  It's an unoriginal blog title (see last post).  But it takes the pressure off to aim at summarizing one day versus attempting to catch up on all kinds of tales and observations.

To share about today, hmmm....  

There was a bus strike so I took an auto-rickshaw to class.  But, as I had expected, there were no classes, because there were no students.  But I spent a couple hours in the library researching for a paper I'm writing.  I've procrastinated on the paper (and am as I write this now even) and dreaded researching "the evolution of social sciences" cockily thinking that I've studied these things in the past, but as I read about the roots of psychology, sociology, economics, whatnot, I'm finding that I'm actually learning things.  Philosophical things.  Historical things.  Things!!  

While at the library, I read today's copy of The Hindu and was excited to find an article on Richard Davidson's work researching the neurological effects of meditation at UW Madison.  That was a little surprise from home.  And how is it that I have only read The Hindu maybe 3 times in the past two months of being here and one of the days happens to be when this story runs?  Unless there's Wisconsin news in the international papers, like 5x/week.  That could be.  It's nice that it's nonviolent news this time.

Here's the article: 

I really wished I had a to-go cup or thermal mug of coffee while I read the paper this morning.  But coffee here only comes in tiny glasses or teacups at tea stands and doesn't seem to be available "to go."  Also, it isn't real coffee.  I don't know what it is.  Cappuccino mix or something?  I think I'd look like some kind of freakish ogre if I walked around campus with a huge thermal mug of coffee (more than I already do for various reasons).  It would definitely seem like overconsumption here.  I guess getting to be barefoot in the library will have to suffice as consolation for the lack of coffee.  

I met up with friends in the afternoon and Sho from Japan demonstrated and provided lessons in chopstick use.  Jusip from Kazakhstan, Arun from India and I practiced a few times.  It's funny that in our little group we represented 3 very different styles of eating.  Jusip and I can manipulate food like no other with our silverware, Sho with his chopsticks, and Arun with his trusty right hand.  

Then, due to the bus strike and not wanting to seem like a wuss by taking an auto-rickshaw, I walked home from school with Arun.  It took a 1/2 hour.  Not bad at all.  When I got home, I decided to make a snack but was at a loss to think up what to make with limited ingredients.  I soon felt like such a genius when I realized that I could make delicious rice pudding.  This involved hand grating cinnamon and de-podding some cardamom and grinding it with a large flat spoon.  It was worth it.  It might just be a regular treat I cook up.  

Then there was an incredible monsoon rain for about an hour.  It was compulsory to stop everything and admire it.  I made a video of it.

This is my life, for today anyway.

Today I...

Was told by a tailor and 2 sales ladies that I should opt for 3/4 length sleeves for my kurta in order to hide my too-thin arms.

Had 4 sweet African girls ask to touch my hair and ask if blonde is ever a natural color of hair or if it is always dyed that way.

Averted a drunk, potential-stalker from the bus station, who shook my hand too long and too many times and then followed me to my bus stop where I zipped away in an autorickshaw.  

Went to the biggest, fanciest book store around to find that they had zero books written by Mahatma Gandhi.  

Cooked Chinese (inspired) stir-fry for roommates and friends (from USA, Kenya & Uganda) while my roommate cooked a chicken she had selected live this afternoon and left with after only 5 minutes of "processing," right in front of her.  Yikes.

Shrieked and cowered (and took a video) as my roommate Marsha and her friend Sadie boldly killed a giant, poisonous spider in my bathroom.  Freda has now deemed Marsha “the man of the house.”  

Good night.

Absentee

I was extremely pleased to receive my absentee ballot in the mail a couple of weeks ago.  I had emailed my city clerk to inquire a couple weeks prior, but had not heard back so I didn’t think they were working on my request but alas!  I got it!  It has been a fun couple of weeks, showing my Indian friends, classmates and professors the ballot.  Obama is the clear winner, internationally.  Everyone is so happy to know that my vote is headed his way.  And some of my friends can certainly claim a stake in my vote.  I quickly became stressed upon reading that I needed another American to witness my sealed voting envelope before sending it back to the US.  I haven’t seen another American since I left the land of liberty and had no idea of any in my state here.  I emailed the clerk of courts back in Madison and she assured me that I could simply go to the US embassy for witnessing.  Uhmmm, that probably sounds like a real nice idea, Ms. Madison Lady, but the nearest embassy is a 14 hour cockroach-infested, hot, sticky train ride away.  Not happening.  So I started putting the word out to my classmates who agreed to ask around in their hometowns and other networks.  And then, out of the blue, my dear friend Vaishali from Maharashtra (who hosted me in 2011) contacted me to inform me that she had met a lovely American named Carolyn who was traveling soon to Kerala.  She said that Carolyn is a loving person and I’m a loving person so we must meet.  :)  Vaishali had no idea of my voting predicament.  It was perfectly random!  And I was delighted to get to connect with Carolyn and find out more about her travels and impressions here.  She is a professor of education (hailing from Utah) and has been teaching in Maharashtra for three months.  Her brother and son joined her in recent weeks as she is wrapping up her time here and to Kerala they were soon headed.  Within about a week, we had arranged for me to meet them in Alappuzha (pronounced “Ah lah poo rah,”  I think) which was a 1.5 hour bus ride from my place.  

It’s always an adventure when I set out on any travels here.  First, I asked my classmates how to catch a bus there.  They instructed me to take the bus outside of the university to the KSRTC station (Kerala State something something, bus company) in Kottayam town (my city, though I live a bit outside of the city so I don’t venture there often) and then find a bus to Alappuzha.  I didn’t yet know where I’d be meeting Carolyn and company so that was about as far as I could plan out.  I hadn’t been to the KSRTC station before but I managed to get on a bus to Kottayam at the university gate.  The buses are labeled in Malayalam which uses a script I haven’t learned yet but luckily the bus guy was shouting “KottayamKottayamKottayammmm” which can be less auditorily recognizable than one might think.  Then I asked him if the bus went to KSRTC and he said it will take me to Market Junction.  I hoped that Market Junction was near KSRTC and was confused as to why I couldn’t get directly to KSRTC.  I tried to ask a woman sitting next to me for clarification but she couldn’t speak English.  I sat patiently until the bus guy flagged me to get off at Market Junction about 15 minutes later.  Market Junction!  Wow!  I had never been to this part of Kottayam before.  It was a great spot filled with produce vendors.  I asked some men in green uniforms (police officers?) for directions to the bus station and walked a few blocks until I found it.  Hooray.  Then the info booth guy at the bus station informed me that a bus would be leaving in about 20 minutes.  I bought some kappa chips (tapioca/cassava version of potato chips) for an unhealthy and rushed lunch and asked some women if they could tell me when the correct bus comes for Alappuzha.  The bus was already parked and loading passengers so I as able to hop on right away, and thankfully nab a seat and not have to stand for the duration of the ride (that does happen).  I found a woman to sit next to (ensuring I wouldn’t be accompanied by any men that might come on board thereafter) and was feeling quite satisfied with my navigation thus far.  Well, I can’t take any credit, actually.  I never can.  Getting from place to place here is always reliant on a network of various strangers and their kind assistance.  I merely set foot out the door and ask people how to get to the next spot, and then the next spot, and then the next spot.  And every time, I reach my destination nicely, with plenty of fascinating events and sights sprinkled in at random along the way.  After about an hour and a half on the bus I started to see business signs denoting their location in Alappuzha so I asked a woman how to get to Beach Road (I had received a text from Carolyn by this point stating the name of their chosen hotel) and she instructed me to get off at the next stop and then take an auto-rickshaw for 60 rupees to Beach Road.  She even got off with me and walked me to the auto to ask the driver to take me.  I zipped off in the auto, enjoying the buzzing and beeping and wind in my hair.  I always cherish my time in auto-rickshaws.  I don’t think it can ever possibly get old to me.  As we got to Beach Road, there was a procession of people wearing white, holding blue flags.  The driver pulled over and said I’d have to walk the rest of the way.  Uhm.  How far is the rest of the way?  He didn’t know because he didn’t recognize the name of the hotel I was heading to.  But I was on the right road at least.  Almost daily, I find myself jarred into the realization that I’m in some random place or situation in goddamned INDIA, and this was one of those moments.  So random, so funny.  I love it.  So I walked.  With no plan.  I passed the procession (found out later it was a Christian caste protesting their treatment in society) and asked an auto  driver where the hotel was and he said it was within walking distance, but you never know what someone else’s idea of walking distance is.  But it turned out to be only about a 10-minute walk before I saw the sign and found the place.  I ducked my head into the lobby and called Carolyn.  Soon her telephone voice turned into her real-live voice as she turned the corner and we met face-to-face.  Hooray :)  American hugs ensued!!  Haha.  It was great.  I was reminded of how friendly and caring Americans truly are.  Carolyn took me around the back of the hotel to meet Hal and Eric and the tune of Hal’s banjo greeted me before his big smile did.  The BaNjO!  Hahaha.  What an American treat.  Oh, what this life doesn’t have in store for me.  

They had all just arrived so we decided to familiarize ourselves with the beach.  The sun was beginning to set so the sky was filled with beautiful oranges turning to purple and blue.  Some boys were playing cricket and flooded up to us begging “One photo!  One photo!  One photo!”  How endearing, right?  Nope.  A ploy.  I took the photo and then they rushed up all around me (about 10 of them) to peer over my shoulder at the photo.  At this point, I felt my butt getting grabbed and I ducked out of there, waving my arms at them to leave me alone, saying, “uh uhhh.”  Opportunistic little shits.  

After taking our walk on the beach we returned to the hotel for dinner and banjo enjoyment and getting to know one another.  I was blessed with delicious food and wonderful company.  Most notable parts of our conversation were when we were trying to recap confusing situations we’ve all experienced in Indian culture and hadn’t made sense of yet.  We all took our best guesses and enjoyed being able to relate to the common feeling of confusion and laughed at our creative attempts to wade through it.  At one point we had to pull out an India travel book and read the chapter on bathroom usage (Carolyn being here 3 months now, me for a month and with a previous visit under my belt, and still needing clarification).  And even after our research, we remained confused about some aspects of bathing and toileting procedures.  Ah well.  One of the many mysteries of India.  

After dinner we headed to bed.  The room was air-conditioned!!!  It was so nice.  Though I’m living much more comfortably than most of my classmates, I haven’t been exposed to air conditioning much so it was so nice to retreat into it for the night.  Carolyn and I found it difficult to stop chatting before our minds shut down and turned our words into incoherent mush.  

The next morning, my friend Arun joined us.  He’s studying in the MA Tourism Management program at my university and was excited to meet his 2nd, 3rd and 4th Americans ever.  He had taken a bus early in the morning, assuring his grandmother that he was going to the temple for the day.  I felt like such a bad influence, but was relieved when he told me that his parents and sister knew that he was truly with us and not at the temple, but he just couldn’t tell his grandmother because of the “generation gap” and her strict ways.  Okay, I suppose I can relate to that kind of thing with my grandparents.  Not only was it wonderful to have his company, but he was a great help, also.  He helped arrange an overnight houseboat for Carolyn, Hal and Eric, owned by a friend of his cousin.  Houseboats are the famed tourist attraction of Kerala, inhabiting the backwaters of the Arabian Sea.  He also was able to call a contact that Hal had in Trivandrum (their next destination for a music festival) and speak to him in Malayalam to request details of the event and for Hal to interview some musicians for an NPR story he had hoped to create (Hal is “retired” from this profession but still cranks out a few pieces here and there).  It was super helpful, as the festival was being held at a Hindu temple and he found out that one could only enter in traditional Kerala dress, and interviews could only be held outside of the temple.  Good info to have.  

Carolyn invited us to join on the houseboat for the afternoon so we packed up and took an auto to a car to an auto to a houseboat (and temporarily lost two bags and a passport on the way).  But the houseboat was beauuuuutiful.  It was a little bit hilarious because we had to walk through one houseboat to get to another houseboat, and the first one was covered in tarps and looking terrible, psyching us out that it was the one we’d be on, but then we felt great relief when we were informed it was the second one over, which was impeccably clean and elaborate with all the amenities of a 4star hotel room.  It had a front deck with cushions to sit on, a living room area, a dining room area, two bedrooms with separate bathrooms, a full kitchen with a cook and AC.  With the breeze and overcast skies the AC wasn’t needed and we enjoyed gliding along the peaceful, lilypadded waterways.  I saw a snake swimming along so that marks my first dreaded snake sighting in India.  I especially hate when snakes are swimming.  Ick.  

Soon, lunch had been prepared and it was a traditional Kerala feast with fish curry, cabbage curry, sambar, a few other vegetable curries, rice, and we each had our own karimeen (pearl fish).  I’ve been hearing about karimeen since my first days here so I decided to try it.  I believe that India is going to make me into a non-vegetarian, actually (cue my mother’s delight).  The fish and shrimp here are abundant and as I’m in weak shape after some digestive issues, I can see the health benefits of having some fish here and there.  The karimeen was wrapped in banana leaves that we had watched the cook collect from ashore a few minutes earlier.  We all asked Arun for a lesson in eating with our hands, and with the strength in numbers, I finally felt bold in asking the most stupid questions and requesting that he eat in slow motion as we carefully studied his technique.  Not a grain of rice dropped from his hand or mouth in the process.  We were amazed.  He also explained each dish to us and which ingredients were considered “waste” (to be dropped on a waste plate and not eaten, such as curry leaves and the fibrous part of a vegetable referred to as “drumstick”).  

We had also stopped to pick up 2 litres of toddy.  Toddy is a fermented beverage collected directly and purely from palm trees.  To the best of my knowledge, the palm fronds are cut at the base and liquid is collected.  It is regarded as a very healthful drink but as each hour passes during the day, its alcohol content increases quickly.  It is collected twice daily - in the morning and evening.  By evening, it can contain quite a bit of alcohol.  But when we had it, it was pretty sweet and fresh, with little alcohol.  To me, it tastes a little bit like kombucha and feels like the first few sips of wine where your arms and legs get a little warm and noodley.  Apparently, Kerala produces X amount of toddy but Xx2 is available in the market, implying that the supply is often bulked up with impure additives or made synthetically.  It takes a real Malayali to assist in procuring the pure thing and we have Arun to thank for that. 

After lunch we lazed around on the deck, enjoyed some river tunes thanks to Hal and his banjo, and rested with full bellies.  We had pineapple and chaya after lunch (albeit a bad combination and too soon after our huge lunch) and then another 15 minutes later were offered a platter of hot, batter-fried plantains.  As we were lazing and snacking, a canoe drifted toward us and Arun informed me that it was for us.  Huh?  We were to transfer into the canoe, head to land, and hop on our bus back to Kottayam.  Oh, and the canoe paddler also delivered Eric’s passport that he mistakenly left at the hotel earlier.  I never know what is happening here.  India is the land of surprises and never-having-information.  But always delivering in adventure.  So we grabbed our backpacks, shared a round of hugs (probably the first time Arun has seen a woman hug men she’s just met - he assured me that he understands that it’s the culture and so it’s “no problem”), and waved goodbyes from our canoe, departing in dramatic fashion from our new friends, but surely not forever.  

Arun and I got back to Kottayam after dark, but still early.  It’s fun to travel through the city after sunset.  So bustling and alive.  

Eric had signed my ballot earlier in the day over breakfast and took it with him to mail in the US, just for good measure (sorry, Indian postal service - I just don’t trust you).  Thank you, Arun, Carolyn, Hal, Eric, Vaishali, President Obama, and Universe for making this latest adventure a sweet one.