The weekend

Once we returned to our apartment on Saturday, we needed desperately to get some laundry done. We normally dry our laundry by hanging it up on the curtain rod and having the ceiling fans run on high. This time was no different except I forgot for a split moment that I am taller than the average Indian. This means I can reach the ceiling fans with my hands. And yes, the blades hit my hand.

If this had been back in the US, I would probably not have been so concerned about it as I am now, but the thought of experiencing Indian medical facilities really does not appeal to me, so I found myself worrying about the smallest things. I am just going to trust it will soon feel better.

We spent the rest Saturday and Sunday catching up on writing reports and touching base with our families. It felt so incredibly good to hear from them again and be able to share with them all I have seen and learned. I found myself thinking of them all day as they are getting ready to celebrate 4th July.

As I am sitting here trying to figure out next week, I got a phone call from Hetal that the offices will be closed tomorrow. Apparently, all the rikshaws, cabs and maybe even stores are on strike tomorrow in reaction to an increase in fuel prices. Always something here.

All things must end

Today, we have completed 4 weeks of our 7 week internship and it feels both like we have been in India 4 years and at the same time only 4 days. I have in these four weeks seen and learned SO incredibly much about India, handicraft, dyeing, the culture, people close to me and myself. I am so grateful for this opportunity and also look forward to being with my family again. I wish so much they could have been with me on this trip.

Family is everything in India. Last night, we were invited to Kishore’s home and he lives in a house with his family and his brother’s family. Their kids grow up together as brothers and sisters. In fact, whenever I ask about relationships, it is always “my brother”, even when it is some distant cousin. He looked at me puzzled when I asked how long he had lived there and replied “Six generations, of course!” The loyalty to both family and community is so natural that it is the foundation for the belief in giving back to your community.

So many times we have heard stories about people going off to Bombay or other places but their names would surface because of something they had done for their home community. You never cut the ties with where you are from. This reminded me much of what both Hetal and Komal said. Hetal explained that, even though you move away from your birth area, you make it a point to know your regional language and customs and visit regularly. Komal, the lady I met in the train, was taking a trip back to her ancestor’s home, a ritual not to be neglected.

Like with everything else, there is a healthy middle, a balance. There are benefits from being more fluid and benefits to remembering your roots. But in the middle of it all is family! I miss mine terribly.

This morning, I woke up much too early again (4:00am!) so I decided to go sit at the dining table I have come to really enjoy. All things have a cycle and it is time for us to leave this beautiful place and return to Bombay. I think we are leaving just in time, because the monsoon is slowly creeping its way up here and the humidity has increased much since yesterday. With the humidity, the bugs have also increased……

We started the day with a meeting with Kishore and Vasand. It was interesting to go from being partly an observer of the delicate dance between social chit chat and business to be an active participant. The purpose of the meeting was for us to tell them what our findings had been for the week and I was so glad I spent those early morning hours writing down everything gleaned during the day.

During the meeting I found out that Vasand and Kishore had worked together for many years and they have been instrumental in so many implementations of development in Kutch. The one that really shocked me was when Vasand told me how he had been part of inventing a simple restroom facility for women. Huh?? He continued to explain that until the restrooms had started being built all over the area in 1995, women would not have anywhere to take care of “things” and would hold it all day until dark!! I was shocked!

Vasand has a huge love for his country and especially Kutch. He told us about the history and called his wife to bring some of the old coins used in Kutch until the unification. His eyes lit up every time he thought of something new and ended by saying: “I hope I haven’t bored you. I am an Indian at heart but I will always be a Kutchi!” How could I have been bored?!

We left for Bhuj in the late afternoon and before we boarded I got to taste the delicious Dabeli (served on half a magazine page) one more time. Then Kishore took us through a market area so we could get some dried fruits and nuts for the trip. My eyes feasted on the colors, sounds, smells and sights and I wish I could have spent some more time there.

Once on the train, we initially had the foolish thought that we might have some more space than usual. At first, we had the “compartment” to ourselves, but that would soon change. A horrific dream I had had before our trip to Kutch just about came true when nothing less than a very colorful Indian rural family boarded and were part of our fellow companions for the next 16 hours. After packing the little space left with an incredible amount of luggage wrapped in very creative bundles, the head of the clan decided it was time for some music. We had a true cultural immersion for hours in rural Indian music as he turned on his little tape recorder and played the music as loud as he could. I think I have found a market for headsets!! All that was missing from my dream were the goats, and I wouldn’t have been one bit surprised to have found them in the bathroom. I didn’t.

I had had a wonderful time in Kutch. I not only learned so much valuable information for our mission here, but Kutch is such a beautiful area and has equally beautiful people. We might not have had A/C, Internet, and living of vegan meals for a week would for an ultimate carnivore like me be unlikely, but the people took the raw ingredients and turned the entire week into a wonderful experience. Including the food.

So many hidden treasurs

Wow, July 1st!! Unbelievable!

The schedule today was to visit two final producers and it proved to be extremely valuable. I feel we start getting a good picture of the problems and how to possibly address it. It has been so interesting to learn how to “do business” in India. In India, you invest in the relationship, and then talk business. This might seem “inefficient” in our Western eyes but it is an expression of cultural values. In this way, Indians show that they still prefer to value people and relationships over material things.

However, if I make one comment, it would be on the, in my opinion (!) unbalanced love for animals. As we pass a state-or-the-art hospital for abandoned, old, or sick animals with an ICU for animals (which, by the way is free), I struggle with the extent to which no resources are spared on animals, and yet people, children, are condemned to horrific circumstances. I myself am an animal-rights advocate, but when I see children living like animals, why can they not get the same privileges?

Anyway, I still amazed at the way the cows (and there are a lot!) just walking freely throughout the town. The cow is a holy animal in India and people are so used to just driving around them. They will walk or stand in the middle of the roads, lie down wherever they want to and are not bothered in the least by the large trucks of heavy traffic swerving around them. I asked Kishore what would happen if someone ever hit a cow, after all the traffic is hectic and fast paced and the cows come out of nowhere whenever they want to. He said nobody does. Ok.

Our visits to the producers were again so fruitful! I still marvel at each site how simple the surroundings and tools are and yet how beautiful the results can be. They are truly masters in their fields and I love seeing the pride and joy in their eyes when they tell me how they have learned the skills from their father, who learned it from his father, who again learned it from his father etc. So many places have had the business for generations and they are so proud of that.

On the way back we made a pit-stop photo-shoot at a temple called 72-Temple Jinalaya (I hope I got that right). Kishore kept telling us how famous this religion is in the US and I just marveled at the enormous temple with amazing architectural decorations.

That evening, we were invited to Kishore’s home, but not before stopping at the Kings’ Palace, built in 1928. Vasand explained that when India became an independent nation in 1947, all the kingdoms were also unified. Until then Kutch had had its own king and this was one of his favorite palaces to visit. We saw peacocks strutting their stuff and Kishore explained that the peacock was the state bird. It was indeed

beautiful and I also enjoyed watching the friendship between Vasand and Kishore. They have worked together for 22 years and you can tell the trust and friendship between them.

What language barriers?

After yesterday’s beautiful morning, I decided to wake up early again and I was richly rewarded for my effort with the same tranquility.

There is something about this area I really like. Yes, it is very, very hot and this morning the mosquitoes decided to welcome me, and I still shudder by the thought of black cobras, but all I have to do is look up and see the beauty around me.

Bhuj (and the Panjub area) was nearly completely destroyed in an earthquake in 2001 and they have had to completely rebuild nearly everything. They took the opportunity to develop and progress and Kutch is amazingly forward for an agricultural and rural area. They have rebuild their hospital according to earthquake standards and are focusing heavily on education, something they admit was completely lacking before. Kishore explained that Kutch has experienced 25 years of development in the past 9 years.

It is still a rural area and handicraft is the livelihood of thousands! It is also a heritage they many NGO’s are trying desperately to preserve, but as with so many other cultural heritages, the younger generation has no interest in continuing. So, they have understood that the way to keep it alive is to make it appealing to both the natives and the markets. I sincerely hope they succeed because some of the work I have witnessed (Kutch is famous for their embroidery and tie die) is so incredible, it would be a great loss if it died out.

Today we spent observing the dyeing process in great detail and an amazing thing happened. While we were watching the dyers, I noticed they were slightly apprehensive. This is quite understandable in a culture that is so driven by the fear of losing any status and becoming a nobody. So, the dyers were naturally concerned what these we were going to be reporting especially since the dyeing process has already been a slightly contentious issue. I suddenly noticed the master dyer, Abbush, use sign language with one of the dyers, Ari. When they saw me watching them I quickly explained that my son is deaf and we use sign language with him too. That broke the ice and we suddenly found ourselves in a “conversation” that overcame all language and cultural barriers.

After work, we were invited out to a farm that belongs to one of the managers here. We sat on a wide cot outside and we were shown all the engagement and wedding picture of his oldest son, who got married a few years ago. He has a wonderful family and I learned that in rural India it is customary for the daughter-in-law to spend the last few months of the first pregnancy at the mother-in-laws house until the baby is born. That way she can get the rest and care she needs.

We were given a tour of the house and after seeing the kitchen and one room (semi divided into two smaller), I started wondering if having only one or two rooms for the whole family is more of the custom that an economic necessity. The rest of the house featured a large indoor storage room and a semi-outdoor area that basically was a room with only three walls. Both the storage room and outdoor rooms were much larger than any of indoor rooms and it strikes me again how much this area does not focus on the physical boundaries of life. And yet, in a way they also do. It’s just different, very different.

It seems like the focus of a house is more on the utility, not the excess numbers of bed rooms, dens and guest rooms and they do not divide up as much into separate “my area”s but hang out together. Granted, this is also possible because the weather allows for much more outdoor living. Vasand proudly showed us their outdoor kitchen and he took great pleasure of telling us how wonderful his wife’s cooking is especially when baked over the open wood fire instead of gas burners.

In many ways I wish I could adapt some of their philosophies but I worry I am too selfish. I like peace and quiet to be alone at times and I would struggle with always being inundated with people. I wonder how much living in such a public life affects the values and how they conduct business. It might explain the excessive focus on appearance, not just looks and clothing, but what I would call “photo-op’s”. If someone is popular, he/she is always featured with many people around them. I have seen so many photos of “very important” or “very successful” people and projects and so much seems staged and nearly forced. I am not saying they are not important or successful, but I am talking about the staged presentation and I wonder how that affects people’s behavior and decision making in the long run. If the success of a person or project is measured by how it looks, it could shift focus from long term quality to short term successes. Especially when I paired it with the fear of being a nobody.

Our second day in Kutch

Bjuh is desert area and we were told that it gets really hot during the day and cold at night. Part of that statement is correct: it gets really hot during the day!

Our first night in the guesthouse without a/c went really well until the electricity went out and so did the fans. In the sweltering heat of the night, fans are crucial. Hanna went back to sleep and I decided to go and sit by the large dining table in the semi open dining room.

I cannot explain with words how peaceful and wonderful those hours were. To my right was a large open window and the view revealed all kinds of amazing exotic vegetation. To my left was a walkway with pillars and a green garden with grass. Behind the garden wall was a palm tree grove. The early morning breeze brought in a slightly cooler air and I heard birds I have never heard before. I was so glad I could not go back to sleep.

That morning, we met Kishore at the office and heard about his overnight excitement. They had a black cobra in their house and I found out that they are common around here. But don’t worry, “ they only come out when it is hot, like now.” (???) As it turned out, black cobras wouldn’t be our only concern. I found this wonderful specimen right outside our door. After dealing with the thought of black cobras, we headed out.

Our day was really hectic and we visited 4 different producers. Everywhere we went, we were met with such incredible hospitality. After lunch, one of the producers offered us to use in one of his guest houses.

I found myself resting in a white round house with a domed wooden roof. The walls are decorated with a spectacular artwork made of mud and mirrors, something typical for this area.

The last producer we visited works with natural dyes only and we saw the most amazing art work. Deep vats of fermenting indigos, iron water simply made of iron sitting in a tub of water, and so many other natural products were the basis for incredible colors achieved by the chemical reactions of natural ingredients.

We then headed back to the VRTI campus and a few times Hanna and I were wondering if the oncoming truck would be the last thing we saw. Words do not do justice to describe the driving here, but let me suffice by saying that passing in a blind curve, going up-hill is nothing. Passing when there is an oncoming truck is nothing.

On the way back, Kishore ordered the driver to stop and he bought a kilo of dates. Now, I know dates as this wonderful, sweet thing that I get to keep all to myself because nobody in my family really cares for it, but these was raw dates. While they all feasted on these dates, Hanna and I tried gracefully out of politeness to work our one little date down, just to be rewarded with a whole handful.

At the end of a long but very informative day, we enjoyed another typical Indian dinner. For the

area we are in, a typical lunch and dinner includes chapattis, some form of vegetable mix and some form of starch mix, often potato. It has the consistency of a stew, in

various thicknesses just depending on what it is. You break a piece of chapatti of (with your right hand only!!!) and use it to scoop up the stew. No utensils and the left hand stays away from the table! Towards the end, they will often serve you a portion of rice that you can pour the sauce like substance served earlier over. We were graciously given a spoon for this process, but Kishore and others don’t use a spoon. They somehow manage with just their hands, even when it gets very liquid after they also pour their curds (yogurt) over it. They drink buttermilk with every meal, but we stayed away from milk products out of safety. For an ultimate carnivore, I am amazed how much I really like the food here. Most of the time, I have no idea what I am eating, and that might be a good thing. That way I just simply enjoy it. Because of my allergies to mushrooms, I did make sure there aren’t any of those in the various foods and I found out that mushroom is a debated items amongst vegans. Some consider it not a proper vegan item, so it is in general omitted. Lucky me!

That evening, Hanna and I explored the roof of our guest house and were rewarded by a beautiful view of the campus.

First Day in Kutch

This morning I got up to a different India. Overnight, the train rolled into Kutch and I am looking at a very arid, nearly desert like scenery. I initially stayed in my cot for a while, listening to the sounds of the awaking train coach.

As we rolled into Bhuj, I noticed the lack of trash and pushy people. A cow with HUGE horns gently strolled by on the platform. I would soon see how many cows are just roaming freely around the towns and how traffice has learned to just swerve around them. We were picked up by Kishore, the fabric producer with whom we are meeting this week. He asked us if we would like to freshen up a little first (was it that evident?) to which we gladly agreed. We drove nearly an hour through the most fantastic landscape. Semi-arid sceneries and desert like towns passed by us and I greatly enjoyed the break from the slums in Bombay. Kishore explained that the whole area (Panjub) had been struck by a significant earthquake in 2001 which devastated just about everything.

After nearly an hour we arrived in Mandvit and he took us to the guest house. He explained that we were welcome to stay there but if we did not feel comfortable, he could take us to a hotel, especially because he does not have A/C (it was currently 42C). We entered a little bungalow that could have been taken out of a Hollywood set.

Our beds had net covering and the fans kept the room fairly cool. The door to the yard was made of wooden laths and opened up to a spectacular garden. I know that there will be plenty of bugs and it is most certainly not cool, but we quickly decided that we would gladly stay here.

We were treated to morning Chai and sat outside at a large wooden table. The exhausting train ride hit us and we went back to shower and rest for a few moments. Then we headed out and met with the first group of fabric producers. We witnessed the fantastic batik works and in the process received more answers to some questions we had from visit last week to the producer in Bombay. Even though I was still full from the culinary feast the night before, we were treated to another Indian delightful lunch and then rested until 3. It is simply too hot to do anything.

That afternoon, we visited two more production and outlet areas. I am still amazed at the way you need to patiently wait for the gold nuggets of information. We would discuss all kinds of other things and once in a while I could throw a question in that related to our mission.

I start wondering about the feasibility and need for the consistent dye results. It is kind of asking a Rembrandt or Van Gogh to be perfectly duplicated each time without turning it into a screen printed poster.

After a long hot day, Kishore took us to Mandvit town and drove past the harbor and shipyard. In Mandvit they build yachts that are shipped to Dubai for the final part before being sold as luxury yachts. I have seen so many things made or built in areas you wouldn't set your feet, but are unwittingly sold as and considered luxury items.

Anyway, we stopped at a little street vendor to get one of the delicacies Komal also had recommended: Dabeli. Similar to Bombay Burger, it was something based on potatoes mashed with oil and on a bun, but this version was sweet, with peanuts and raisins. So, so, so delicious!!

Afterwards, we swung by the beach and as I walked in the warm Arabian Sea, I felt all the dirt and stress from Bombay wash away.

The Bhuj Express

Leave it to Indians to show me how to take what we would consider a bad experience and turn it into a wonderful moment.

After a hunt for the right platform and a long, extremely hot and muggy wait for the train, we got on the Bhuj Express, a sleeper train from Borivali (Maharastra) to Bhuj (Kutch). I have used sleeper trains before where we were 6 per compartment, but this was a whole new experience and I am now certain that Indians arranged the living compartments in submarines. We sat 6 in an area the size of a queen size bed and an additional two were seated separately over by the other window. These two seats were separated by a tiny aisle from the two benches that seated us six. There are no separate compartments separating us from the rest of the car (coach), only the tiny wall the birches are hanging from. I should have known that all the difficulties with my ticket would follow me.

When we booked our tickets, Hanna’s ticket was confirmed right away, but mine was kind of confirmed. Hetal kept reassuring me that everything would be fine, I just didn’t have a confirmation for a seat yet, but I would be allowed on the train. Somehow, 16 hours without a seat did not really appeal to me, but I trusted her. The day before we left, I received an email telling me that I too had a seat. Phew.

After boarding, I still did not know where my seat was and had to wait for the conductor to come by with his long computer print-out of who sits where. Some of the people sitting on the benches must have felt sorry for this old seat-less lady and offered to share their seat with me and thus also be squished.

Finally the conductor came and showed me my seat, a few “compartments” down. The gentleman next to me offered to move down there so Hanna and I could still be close to each other. I now sat in between two people and my, for Indian standards, too long legs nearly touch the other seat across from me. I followed their example and sat crisscross.

I could see the beautiful landscape outside the window evolve from grey Bombay to lush, gorgeous valleys, wide, winding rivers, steep green mountains and plenty of rice fields. One gorgeous scenery after the other passed by my eyes but I could not take much of any pictures because of my seating arrangement. This useless feeling of self pity that had gradually crept in would soon leave me when the wonderful people in the “compartment” showed me how to focus right.

Not long after we had left, the lady across from me and the one to my left started talking to me. Initially, it was just chit chat but soon we were all six talking, using the best English we could find and gestures. They shared with me their wonderful food and every time the train stopped, one of them would jump out, get some of the local delicacies and bring some back to share. I assured them that I had brought sandwiches, and offered to share them, but they kindly declined ( :-) ) and laughed and said I could eat those tomorrow. It was phenomenal.

I was first treated to a snack called Foul Vadi. If I understood them right, it made of ground graham flour with spices and then deep fried in oil. Scrumpious! We then proceeded with Khakra, a chapatti like cracker. No idea what all was done to it, but delicious. Another gentleman then offered me something called Chathiya. No idea what it was but I greatly enjoyed the kindness and sweetness of these complete strangers who showed me how to focus on the right things.
We took a short break from the culinary experience and chatted about family, the internship, the regions we would be seeing and so many other things. Wasn’t long before the next food item emerged and I was treated to Vada Pav, which reminded me much of the Bombay Burger I had eaten on the day we visited the Weaver’s Center. It is some kind of mixture with potato and spices and chutney on a bun. After that came Thepla (chapattis with massala), coconut chutney with spices and Idle (steamed rice patties). At the end of this feast of home-made delicacies, I had some kind of sweet I never even got the name for. Then came out the peanuts which apparently are a specialty for the area we were driving through at that point. They were indeed wonderful!

During all this time, we laughed and shared and all the focus of the train, ticket, and seating arrangement just disappeared. Indians focus on relationship and interactions with others, not the cage.

They helped me get my birch ready and I headed in for the night. Now, you need not many math skills to figure out that if I am 5’11” and the birch is not an inch more than 5’5”, there is a substantial part of me sticking out into the tiny isle. I chose this part to be my feet and all night long, every time someone had to walk by, I was woken up by someone hitting my feet. However, many times it was the gentleman who earlier had sat across from Hanna and he always stopped, looked at me and then smiled. Not sure if he was laughing at my feet but I decided to take as just being nice.

I learned that night not only several new words in Hindi, but also how to turn nothing into something priceless. There may not be a lot of space, privacy or luxury in the lives of most Indians, but there is a lot of kindness and they are not afraid to share it.