My time in India is quickly coming to an end. In less than two weeks we’ll be packing our bags and leaving Jaipur. I’ll be joining the group to visit the Taj Mahal, but while they go on to Delhi I’ll instead head up to the yoga/spiritual center known as Rishikesh and spend some time contemplating life in a quiet spot along the Ganges River. I’ll be rejoining them to head on to China.

Last weekend the group went to the holy city of Pushkar where we went on a camel trek through small villages and spent the night sleeping in tents in the desert at the base of some small mountains. I most enjoyed sharing stories around the fire with warm cups of chai, clean air and a sky full of stars. Camels are pretty disgusting animals (they snarl and spit foam out of their mouths)  and they’re not so friendly, but it was a fun experience.

The students continue to grapple with the purpose of education and are exploring (in their media projects) issues such as the students/teacher relationship, pedagogy that requires little critical thinking vs empowering, what exactly empowerment means, especially in light of women’s empowerment, class and race and how that relates to education, etc. I do have much to say on this and by the end of India I’ll post my thoughts. But for now I’m recovering from a rather bad bout with my stomach and I’m a bit tired.

Missing you all tremendously. Like the desert misses the rain? Like french fries would miss ketchup? Like Vermont misses a good snowstorm in winter (from what I hear)…xoxoxoxoxoxo

I’ve been in Jaipur for almost three weeks and am only now coming up for air, feeling my feet comfortably place themselves on this foreign soil one foot in front of the other and with care so as to see the details that surround me. Until now, things have been sort of a blur, I’ve been taking in so many new sights, sounds, and smells I don’t think I’ve truly been able to see clearly. For instance, the traffic. There are no lines to keep the varied modes of transport (tuk-tuks, bicycles carrying heavy loads such as bundles of rebar, motorcycles, cars, buses, camels and even an occasional elephant) in order but rather they move among one another in a kind of dance, a chaotic rhythm moving to the sound of consistent car honking. It’s jarring. And then one morning last week this chaotic gigantic go-cart race didn’t shake me. I sat in the tuk-tuk thinking about the seminar I would be facilitating later that day, looking at the extraordinary that had so quickly become the norm. The honking cars didn’t cause me to shudder and cover my ears, the smell of garbage and urine didn’t cause me to crinkle my nose. But every day here is different. One day I want to hide and the next I’m eager to see what is outside my door…which for now is a handful of stray puppies I want to adopt.

Jaipur is crazy. It’s chaotic and intense, dusty, dirty and crowded.  Men constantly spit everywhere and relieve their bladders casually anywhere there is a wall. The busy roads are lined with both small and large brightly colored Hindu temples with statues of Ganesha, with men sitting cross legged stringing garlands of orange and yellow marigolds, cows roaming freely. The roads are also lined with vendors. Men squatting on wood carts roasting peanuts over open flames, yogurt lassis sold in ceramic mugs sprinkled with almonds, metal pots heating chai for the many men who squat talking with warm cups in hand, and carts piled high with beautiful fruits and vegetables. The favorite fruit here seems to be the papaya, which is so unfortunate because to my senses it smells like vomit. I can’t begin to stomach this fruit. Thankfully there is no shortage of pineapple, oranges and bananas.  The few women I see on the streets are draped in brightly colorful fabrics (pink, turquoise, yellow, orange) from head to toe adding so much color and a bit of fresh air into this dusty city landscape. While the sky here is generally blue, it usually seems like I’m looking through a hazy screen, especially along the periphery. It’s rarely clear.

The most common past time I’ve observed is flying kites from rooftops. This past weekend was a kite festival and all through the skies these small square paper kites flittered, swirled, shimmied and swam in an attempt to cut the lines of other kites.

I’ve found myself ok with not knowing exactly where I am and giving over trust to tuk-tuk drivers to get me where I want to go. This is a first. I generally have a city well mapped out in my mind and know where I am, but here, I’ve let myself get swept up in the chaos of it and with the help of meditation, try to be a calm island.  Sometimes this works.  Just as this post seems to jump all over the place in my attempt to describe India, this is sometimes how it feels to me.

I don’t drink alcohol and I don’t drink coffee here, but for now that is just fine. We drink warm cups of chai at least three times a day and this is quite comforting. Tom mentioned in his blog that he thinks our group might like chai almost as much as ice cream.  I’m not sure there is anything our group will ever like more than ice cream though. This past weekend I took a cooking class with some interested students and learned how to make food with such delicious colors and spices that set your mouth dancing with joy… cloves, cinnamon, cardamom, cumin, bay leaves, turmeric, ginger, garlic, coriander…

I’ve done some sightseeing around the city with my mento group, enjoyed a cooking class, got my arm decorated with henna and continue to work with the students as they grapple with ideas around the purpose of education (more on that soon).  This weekend students will explore various parts of Rajasthan on their independent travel but I will stay in Jaipur for the literature festival where some rather interesting authors from around the world will be giving talks. I’m rather looking forward to it.

I came on this trip, decided to leave the comforts of my life, because I felt my experience in Vermont was too small and constricting. I have come to realize it is not our location that makes our experiences small, it is our attitude and perspectives. Our experiences are only as small or as big as we let them be.  Traveling can be quite romantic at times, but so can being home and being settled.  Ah the Gemini in me…always wanting everything…the city and the farm, world travel and a home.

Hope the snow is falling in New England. Happy birthday to Jodi…I’m there skiing and falling with you in spirit.

xoxo

Rhino, Addo National Park, South Africa

Currently in India and am not quite ready to put into words what I’m experiencing here, but stay tuned because I will have a lot to say. For now, I’ll just say that after a week I finally don’t feel like I want to run into a quiet room and hide from all the people and sounds

warthog

outside and am settling in to a routine. The students have started their work project, teaching in a variety of settings in two slums here in Jaipur and it is sure to be an eye opening experience for all. This is the first country on our trip where i have felt a degree of culture shock. And the food…well, it’s amazing. More to come…

Ostrich, Addo National Park, South Africa

Over the course of our time in South Africa, we held group processing sessions to give students an opportunity to speak about what they were experiencing with their work project as seeing such sick people every day can be extremely difficult for some. It became evident just how moved students were by their time working in townships and a reminder to me that some of the most meaningful and impactful learning comes from the relationships we create.

During one such session, Tom recounted to the group how the 60lb woman with AIDS he had helped carry onto a bus just two weeks earlier, had just passed away. Was he supposed to feel sad, because he didn’t, he said to the group. He struggled  with this lack of feeling and he wanted to know if this was good or bad. We judge others and ourselves for so much of our lives, we so easily fail to see such moments for what they are, with no judgment placed on it. It is far easier to put things into neatly contained boxes of “yes” and “no” or “right” and “wrong”, seal the lid and walk away – but that devalues our experiences, and that of others, failing to address the complexities surrounding it, failing to just be here in the moment with whatever it is we are feeling or not feeling, observing and sensing.

On the other hand, Claire shared how uncomfortable she felt observing patients, some living with so little and in such destitution (ex. small 8 by 8 structures with cardboard walls) as if they are specimens for her to use. She was feeling overwhelmed with guilt of her privilege and all that she has in her life compared with so little people seemingly have here.  I’m reminded of my experience in the Peace Corps and the guilt that clung to me for my entire stay there. I think how fortunate she is to be having this experience now. How this will fundamentally change her, possibly the course of her life, what she wants to do, how she wants to live, if her eyes are open for that matter. And for now, they seem to be, wide open and full of tears.

Mijal, after passing the first time around, bursts into uncontrollable tears.  I see myself in Mijal sometimes, in the way she responds to things with feeling and emotions and clings to those so passionately as being truth. It really wasn’t up until a couple of years ago that I truly started to understand that just because I felt something to be true, didn’t quite actually make it so. I think of these things as she begins to speak in between tears.  She admitted to the group that walking through the townships made her think the people here are lazy and not trying to better themselves or their situations. She felt guilty for having such thoughts and asked questions such as why do some people just have all this luck being born in some place while others are born into unjust, unfair situations that make their lives infinitely harder? And my question is, why do we distance ourselves from those who have harder lives? Where is the disconnect?

I’m glad my students are struggling with these questions. That tells me they are learning, they are just where they need to be. They could be at college partying, spending countless hours on the internet and in front of the TV, eating frozen yogurt twice a day (yes I have a student who is infatuated with “fro yo” as she likes to call it). Instead, they had to confront their privilege every day when they stepped into a house in a township and look a patient in the eyes. They had to try to understand how that patient had come to where they were with poor health and in need of a caregiver or how they had taken steps to recover. It takes courage to start to peel away the layers of privilege we have hidden behind, because we are comfortable with our own lives, because we don’t even know we are masked and adorned with accessories we don’t really need.

There are so many ways to live and be in this world.

On the days when I am homesick the most and tired of wearing the same clothes over and over again and having no social life, I try to remind myself of these moments. I feel honored to bear witness to these revealing, when students open up in such vulnerable ways about such difficult topics, and for many, this is the first time they have ever spoken openly about their emotions. I am for the most part left speechless. There is not much I can say to aid in someone’s growth here.  Part of the journey are these painful feelings.  So all I’m left to give is space to listen and simples statements such as, “I know. Keep feeling. Keep looking.  Keep listening. Keep talking. Keep asking.”

Today students presented their media projects to the community. I’ll try to post some of them on this blog so you can see what the students are learning first hand. I’m off to Addo tomorrow which is a game reserve about 3 hours from here. We’ll be there for about a week going on various safaris and relaxing. I’ll try posting pictures of some animals before leaving for India next Thursday.

Thanks to everyone who sent packages and letters…it’s the next best thing to an actual hug or skype call! It’s as if I am sitting with you for a few minutes every time I read a letter and that is such a gift. Wishing you all a great holiday season! And mom, congrats on your retirement!

peace and love…xoxo

Table Mountain with Cape Town below. View from Robben Island.

View from top of Table Mountain after 1.5 hour hike. Yes, I'm taking a picture of myself.

Stopped to view the penguins on our way to Cape Point. Beautiful summer day.

Cape of Good Hope

View from Cape Point looking out over the Indian Ocean

stone sculpture in the botanical gardens

Gardening at the Women's Shelter

some ladies in the garden. It was a mess so we weeded and then planted some carrots, beets, cabbage and spinach. It was the first time Karelle and Hope had ever worked in a garden and it was fun to see how much they enjoyed it.

On Saturday evening I took my mentees out to a nice dinner in Plett. We have a great time together as a group sharing stories of home, what we’ve been

My silly mentos from left: Tom, Claire, Kaite, ME, Sarah

doing and learning and of course, always laughing!

Drakensbergs

I took a tour up the Sani Pass in Southern Drakensberg. I don’t usually participate in the touristy world of guided tours but it was actually nice not to be on my own. I realized I’m not a big fan traveling solo, even though I did meet some interesting people along the way, including the quirky people who ran the hostel, a 32 year old dutch doctor practicing medicine in a small rural village, 2 Israelis and a British woman who had attended the climate change conference in Durban. Anyway, the Sani Pass is a series of steep rocky switchbacks that end up in the mountain kingdom of Lesotho (less-oo-too), a country I have never given much thought to.  Once in Lesotho we toured some villages to meet people and see how they live. The landscape changes dramatically once over the pass. On the South African side the mountains are covered with bright green grass leading up to flat mesas as well as jagged peaks of basalt and sandstone. In Lesotho, however, the landscape

Lesotho Village

becomes quite barren. The wind is unforgiving, the mountains and plains covered with very short dry grass and small bushes they use for cooking fires. The houses are called rondovals, round huts made of stone and dung with thatched roofs. There are no openings in the roof to allow smoke from the cooking fire out. The one hut we went into was clean but the grass from the thatch roof hung down covered in moldy soot. I thought about lungs and health and how people are so far away from the nearest clinics and schools.  How they have no transportation, electricity or cell service. Men walk around with their faces covered, to shield themselves from cold and dust and are covered with wool blankets with a hole cut in the middle, worn like a poncho.  It is a harsh existence. A young woman baked bread and gave us a piece to share along with a cup of very sour beer that also tasted exactly like the bread. It felt strange being there – looking at her life, paying her to show us her small humble home. Very voyeuristic and slightly uncomfortable. Tourism should go to help local people but there is something strange about viewing people as you would a mountain pass or a piece of art in a museum. Every day people wake up and herd sheep, bake break and walk hundreds of meters to get water. Every day life is about survival.

Matasha, the horse I rode.

Oh and I rode a horse for the first time. Galloping through fields I sort of felt like I was out west. For a moment I could understand the beauty of the ranching lifestyle.

Returned to Plett to find that summer has officially arrived here in South Africa. Hot, sunny days and loads of tourists.  Our seminars on the beach are accompanied by a loud base and hundreds of 18 year olds drinking beer and dancing. I’m impressed that my students are able to concentrate and hold long conversations about the state of public healthcare and discuss why it so difficult to prevent the spread of a preventable diseases such as HIV/AIDS. I even find my eye drifting to the waves crashing and I move my body ever so slightly to the beat.  Next week the students are off on their independent travel to Cape Town and so am I!  We have one more seminar left in this unit on public health and currently the students are busy working on their media projects.

Hope this note finds you all well. I find my thoughts drifting to home as of late even though I’m so grateful to be here. Missing you…

ps. thanks to those who sent out letters, postcards and packages! I so love notes from home and appreciate the time you spent getting them to me. xoxo

I'm trying to hug the ocean!

everyone had a great holiday weekend. We went to Monkeyland and a walk through some old growth forest to the beach. The ocean here is spectacular.

the group out hiking

Plettenberg Bay

than it is dark.  People watch cricket and play rugby instead of football. And none of you are here with me. It sure doesn’t feel like Thanksgiving.  Hope everyone is doing well and enjoying the holiday with friends and family.  I’m enjoying the beautiful beaches here and the friendly people I’m meeting along the way.  Missing you…

Salt River Hike

The Incan ruins are incredible and fun to explore. It is amazing how they have stood the test of time over hundreds and hundreds of years, their irrigation system still working, the wall of building and terraces still in tact. All the students made it, even the ones who had never really hiked much before. For some this was definitely the hardest thing they have ever done in their lives and I’m super proud of them.

I’ll be here in Plettenberg Bay, South Africa for the rest of the year. During this leg of our journey we’ll be learning about public health, no doubt a challenging subject we’ll be exploring through many lenses such as race and class. Currently students are out in surrounding townships with public health workers. I’m definitely looking forward to understanding the social/political climate of South Africa.  More details to come…

I hear there is snow in New England already! I hope, if you are there, you are enjoying it…i feel like I’ll be chasing summer around the globe during the rest of my trip, living in perpetual spring. ahhhh

much Much MUCH LOVE to you all!!