Supr Bath,
Lots of things happened over the last month.
Bijli Mahadev temple
Also known as the Lord Shiva temple, this astounding tourist attraction point is elevated fifteen hundred meters above the sea level. So it goes.
This early December me an Anine got ready to conquer the mountain, mainly to compensate for the recent lack of physical exercise. It wouldn’t be regular us hadn’t we hitchhiked all the way up. We started in the Kullu by-pass an son fund ourselves in a regular Hindustani car – Maruti Suzuki. White metal chassis, plated with black plastic and rust. Maruti looks like this:
But before that, we had a regular conflict on the regular red bridge. I think that me and Anine were governed by the same physical laws to which pressure cookers abide by. So letting some steam off before the trip is good!
So, once we reached the mountain whereabouts we thought of taking a bus after all. As a rule of thumb, buses do not obey regular rules, they are sponsored by destiny…
An hour into our trip we got into the bus and the Kullu city shrank in the horizon, until the tiny dwellings were ablated by the adjacent mountain. Now it was time to stop our bus trip, as there were no free seats available.
Meanwhile, another bus was approaching us, thirty students and teachers from the Mandi College sang joyful songs and danced in the vehicle. We got aboard and the students, mainly testosterone governed guys, “hospitalized us”. I often wish I knew how to dance. Not only Hindu dances, but also Classical European or Polish Polka. I don’t and sat all the way up.
Technically, all the roads finish a kilometer short of the mountain top. So we went. “What a beautiful trek!”, I thought, and the nature smiled, sun smiled, and two cute kale kute smiled at us as well (those dogs got an egg from me later on, surprisingly, refusing Anine’s banana) ;D
We talked and we cursed and we sweat. By the time we reached the mountain top which looked like this:
my sweaty t-shirt froze my body and mind. The scenery up there was beautiful. So was the temple and an honorable “temple–man”, who taught us how to pray (puja) for the Lord Shiva. The tuition fee was dropped into the “charity box”.
Then we lost Anine’s phone. Maybe someone sneaked into the bag, or maybe it rested on the mountain slope who knows. I owned Sony Walkman, and know what it means to lose one of those intelligent music phones.
Our frinds from Mandi gave us a ride home, and we walked over the Lal bridge: this time happy, or simply too tired to quarrel =)
Solang Paragliding
I went paragliding, which qualifies me as a superhero, and managed to loose my cell phone during the trip. For the sake of a good anecdote, I could swear I lost it in the air. One way or the other, the phone was lost and I got Nokia 1080. A thousand rupees phone has many features: bichromatic screen, torch, radio, Panchangam, Cricket game, Snake game, Bouncer game and Devanghari keyboard.
One way or the other, I went paragliding, which qualifies me as a superhero. Avian experience.
On December 11, it was time for Anine to leave. Beforehand we had been sharing a new apartement for ten days. New apartment aside, I FEEL LONELY.
Of course, there are people, especially children, in those few remaining institutions, who support me with..their own presence. Kullu inhabitants are benign and sincere. They help me with Hindi, and I tell them stories about my beautiful country.
You see, India being as big as Europe, not many people have left the subcontinent, just as not many Europeans crossed their own borders. Many locals I spoke to express a desire to visit a foreign country. For the first time, someone honestly wonders where I live, and how could they visit Lithuania. Conversely, the Westerners’ still see the country ruled by the clique of USSR cadres and inhabited by corrupt people. Well, at least I have never felt ashamed of it, as time will heal those wounds.
I’m not the only one who’s missing Anine. Even now I hear people wondering what have I done, to make “the beautiful foreigner” leave Kullu. The others still hold a firm belief of our marital union ;D
My position in the blind school has changed significantly without her. Days are getting colder and colder, and we (teachers) and the children encircle the only stove in the classroom. They constructed the stove pretty hastily, and “the smokes spill over” once too often. That’s why we dedicate the first half an hour before Puja for warming up. Samshe is the most eager when it comes to warming up, few days ago he lost a handful of hair, when it caught fire!
Roiht is the one bringing us the wood, I’m not pretty sure where does he get it from though.;D A few pieces inside the “combustive chamber” and I can read them a story. A story about the dreamy milk maid (dut valla) who spilled her milk and lost everything, a boasting oak tree which got toppled over and the bush, etc.
I have finished the conceptual design of the goal ball. Unfortunately, the huge copper bells were totally muted by the excessive amount of printed media inside the ball. This time I’ll try stuffing the plastic bags inside, as they seem to have better sound conductivity.
Trip to Delhi
I have participated in the training programme on counseling skills on children protection in Delhi. For five days we were taught counseling and empathy and active listening and how to make an Asian PPT presentation
Delhi is big. I’m glad it’s bigger than the NYC or LA or any other polluted agglomerate on the US. One way or the other, if you climb atop of a 5 storey building, the city in front of you looks like a jungle. Especially the new Delhi, whereas some residential areas resemble Santa Barbara or French Riviera.
The city has over a million of street children. We stayed in the Indian social institute, and next to it there was a Sai (yes, Anine, BABA) Memorial, where street residents could get free rice and other food.
Panki, Ankit’s brother, was my guide for those five days. He is a really warm and interesting person. He showed me the biggest Electronics market in Asia. He took me to the biggest hardware market in Asia. And, finally, he told me of the biggest vegetables market in Asia, which we haven’t seen.
Both of us found the conference interesting in one or the other way. I personally enjoyed all the ladies speakers. They were great communicators (private practice in the US does miracles!), and I have to admit, Indian women have beautiful eyes and smile. Once they are activated together, people tend to be lured into listening, subconsciously. The male speakers positioned themselves firmly into the chairs and gave us the “lecture”.
One way or the other, they must have said many important and compelling counseling techniques, but as long as I were the only English speaker, I couldn’t grasp the fruits of knowledge in Hindi. Well, I learned the meanings of matlab, karenge, sakte, Bahut MUSHKIL!, 100% failure hoga, Ankh mein ankh milake. The latter is my favorite, it means what we known as the “eye contact”. I still don’t get the meaning of bilkul.
I made one friend there, actually, his name is V.K. He is a resident of Uttar Pradesh. He asked me not to forget him, and I won’t.
Friday 31 December 2010
Friday 26 November 2010
Playing dough
We stopped being sick and spent an amazing week in our institutions.
Each Saturday we’d creative craft activities with the blind school students, namely the paper hats, massage sessions or Classical music. That Saturday we had to keep 20 children busy in the “morning time”. What we did was the playing dough sculptures.
However, before the actual proceedings, we needed the playing dough itself, which cost around 3 times more in the Indian market compared to Lithuanian enterprises ;))
Anine found a smart way round the problem:
1) 2 cups of flour
2) 1 cup of salt
3) Spoon of baking soda
4) 2 spoons of vegetable oil
5) Water
We haven’t made it before, and obtained the necessary ingredients on the last hour before the actual activity time. So, we didn’t take risks and made the playing dough ourselves, 2 kg at a time! :]
After evenly distributing round sticky balls of dough to the children, we explained them and the teachers, how to make “art” out of it.
Explanations apart, children weren’t as engaged and “talented” as might had expected before. Probably, they have never played with it before and in the first few minutes we found a handful of chapattis rather than pieces of art.
Wait a few minutes though, and keen children will deliver it. Some rolled the “chapatti” between their palms and ended up with a sausage. The others erected it – “Here stands my tower!” - thought Gotham.
It was interesting to observe the children’s adaptation skills developing in front of our eyes. “Impromtu artists” hastened to show off their masterpieces to us: “M’aaaaaaaam! SIIIIIIRRRR!!! Dikhaeeeeeeeeeee!!!!” So that we could reply “Anjee, ye kye ha? (what’s this?)” .
However the totally blind ones still didn’t surpass themselves, or at least that’s what I firmly believe. So, let’s wait for tomorrow’s session and give it another try.
Other highlights
As for the Nepali school, children were happy to see us both together again, following a short Anine’s absence due to the illness. Girls (we mostly work with them, and yes, girls are smarter than boys. Full stop) absolutely adore Anine for her kindness and smile, I don’t know if they like my let’s-get-this-work-done-now approach and general strictness…
But students occasionally do abuse our lenient approaches and lose concentration or even leave the classroom. It is by no means eccentric in Indian “terms”, yet I always take it personally. Apart that, those 4-5 girls are utterly knowledgeable and eager to learn.
After a regular English class, Anine did some song reading and drawing activities, which were a smashing success.
However at once I got terribly startled, when one of the girls asked about the superlative adjectives of “good” once again told me the same old story of “gooder” and “goodest”! We found the correct words in her exercise book, which she has noted down last week. =] I shouted at her, and think to myself now, do I really have any rights to shout at these students.
The drug de-addiction center thanks Peter Wilson for his “balls”. We managed 5 different balls at a time and will try adding more next week. Also, now there are 60 of us, the center received 10 new guys in less than 2 weeks period. Due to Diwali and Dussehra celebrations maybe? ;) So they were asked to choose between playing with my balls or braiding Anine’s yarns ;D Most surprisingly only half of them stayed with Anine.
Each Saturday we’d creative craft activities with the blind school students, namely the paper hats, massage sessions or Classical music. That Saturday we had to keep 20 children busy in the “morning time”. What we did was the playing dough sculptures.
However, before the actual proceedings, we needed the playing dough itself, which cost around 3 times more in the Indian market compared to Lithuanian enterprises ;))
Anine found a smart way round the problem:
1) 2 cups of flour
2) 1 cup of salt
3) Spoon of baking soda
4) 2 spoons of vegetable oil
5) Water
We haven’t made it before, and obtained the necessary ingredients on the last hour before the actual activity time. So, we didn’t take risks and made the playing dough ourselves, 2 kg at a time! :]
After evenly distributing round sticky balls of dough to the children, we explained them and the teachers, how to make “art” out of it.
Explanations apart, children weren’t as engaged and “talented” as might had expected before. Probably, they have never played with it before and in the first few minutes we found a handful of chapattis rather than pieces of art.
Wait a few minutes though, and keen children will deliver it. Some rolled the “chapatti” between their palms and ended up with a sausage. The others erected it – “Here stands my tower!” - thought Gotham.
It was interesting to observe the children’s adaptation skills developing in front of our eyes. “Impromtu artists” hastened to show off their masterpieces to us: “M’aaaaaaaam! SIIIIIIRRRR!!! Dikhaeeeeeeeeeee!!!!” So that we could reply “Anjee, ye kye ha? (what’s this?)” .
However the totally blind ones still didn’t surpass themselves, or at least that’s what I firmly believe. So, let’s wait for tomorrow’s session and give it another try.
Other highlights
As for the Nepali school, children were happy to see us both together again, following a short Anine’s absence due to the illness. Girls (we mostly work with them, and yes, girls are smarter than boys. Full stop) absolutely adore Anine for her kindness and smile, I don’t know if they like my let’s-get-this-work-done-now approach and general strictness…
But students occasionally do abuse our lenient approaches and lose concentration or even leave the classroom. It is by no means eccentric in Indian “terms”, yet I always take it personally. Apart that, those 4-5 girls are utterly knowledgeable and eager to learn.
After a regular English class, Anine did some song reading and drawing activities, which were a smashing success.
However at once I got terribly startled, when one of the girls asked about the superlative adjectives of “good” once again told me the same old story of “gooder” and “goodest”! We found the correct words in her exercise book, which she has noted down last week. =] I shouted at her, and think to myself now, do I really have any rights to shout at these students.
The drug de-addiction center thanks Peter Wilson for his “balls”. We managed 5 different balls at a time and will try adding more next week. Also, now there are 60 of us, the center received 10 new guys in less than 2 weeks period. Due to Diwali and Dussehra celebrations maybe? ;) So they were asked to choose between playing with my balls or braiding Anine’s yarns ;D Most surprisingly only half of them stayed with Anine.
Wednesday 17 November 2010
Back on track
Working Alone
This week I am working alone. Anine is really sick after her “tourist” trip, though tomorrow we are visiting the blind school again.
Being alone proved to be a tough experience: especially when it came to getting to places. Hitchhiking with a girl is a way faster than standing alone by the roadside. It seems that for two weeks we let ourselves loosen up, prepare less and concentrate on our personal businesses instead. This has to change now. It is especially important for her, as her last month countdown is ticking. In the same way, these two weeks gave me time to learn how to live by myself, plan the activities and enjoy the leisure.
There were days when I didn’t speak at all; there was no one to speak to. Except Anil, maybe, he owns a Chay shop just a hundred meters away from me. His Chay shop is typical – little light, dark walls, gas balloon, a few tables and plastic chairs. There is an ashtray and there are smokers. Most importantly, do kute safed he – two white dogs, little puppies which warm my heart in the cold mornings. There is ahbaar- a newspaper, where I look for the familiar letters.
So far I have learned 20 of them, and I estimate there might be up to 50 in the Devenghari alphabet.
Nepali school learns about stars
I travelled to a Nepali school in Manali with Modan. This generous man is waiting for Anine to recover so that we could visit his house. Modan is one of a few Indian men who respect time, his usual words being “9/8/5/4/2 o’clock sharp!” I like it very much, and our trip was interesting – we always find some isues to discuss with. This time we talked on Indian roads, agreed that a good road is a key component for a prosperous economy. Also, he reminded me to love my girlfriend!
When I came children were reading the story books donated by the Londoners. I was happy to see the books being taken care of, majority of them finding their way back into a brand new metal closet.
I quickly formed a gang of five “eagermost” students. We revised comparative adjectives (big-bigger-biggest), and learned some tricky ones (good-better-best and bad-worse-worst). I inadvertently told them that one can describe the whole world with the help of either GOOD or BAD. They are gullible and young, hence believed in me. Finally, we revised tenses as well, namely Present Simple and Present Continuous, followed by the lunch.What made me sad, was that only a few of them had brought the lunch, so I shared my two bananas with the other 4 girls. And our stomachs filled, we entered the world of Geography and Astronomy.
Although we got them a globe two weeks ago, they haven’t been allowed to touch it ever since. Pretty girls had little understanding why there would be 7 continents, and why some nasty professor would assign India into Asia.
However, a cumulative effort from five students - they located India in no less than 5 minutes! Their favorite continent was “Antarctica”, due to its spelling and strange location. Kasun, one of the girls, later said that the southern continent should be “shipped” back to the North, because Antarctica missed its family members: Asia and Europe! However, no-one cared about shipping back Australia, as it stands above India in the world cricket federation standings. I promised someone really special to teach the girls some Astronomy. Bearing in mind that the Earth isn’t flat anymore, they wondered why it levitates in the space, without falling into the abyss. We drew the Solar system.
However, it turned out to be relatively unproportional. They wondered why the cosmos is dark, and assumed that there has to be a hole throughout our planet in order to put a thread into it. By thread they meant Earth’s orbit. Which I didn’t draw thoroughly enough.
I had to leave at 3pm, and children asked me to promise them we are coming back next Wednesday. Unfortunately, there are only four more classes remaining until the school closes for the winter.
Friday 5 November 2010
Planes. Trains. Automobiles.
Happy Diwali to begin with!
Five year olds setting off fireworks, rush hour at the candy shops and me all alone. Anine’s gone for her well deserved vocations in Rajastan, then Delhi and Agra. I couldn’t say I’m too lonely but two is a company..
I went to our institutions alone this week and Annine was certainly a missing asset in our activities. However, the blind school worked out nicely for me: we learned to speak about our families, houses and any other imaginable personal information. In other words, we played Facebook, whereas I learned the equivalent words in Hindi. I started taking this language seriously, especially after installing a pirated, but no less valuable Rosetta Stone!
Yet, Ghuruvar (Thursday) left a mark in my mind. I woke up early that day, did yoga and was about to take a shower, when I discovered the water boiler was turned off. It’s an open secret, that our master loves saving electricity and sneaking around our stuff, but this time I’d waken up 1 hour earlier to set get warm water, and after exercise – enjoy a warm shower. What else could a man need in the morning?
I took a cold shower. Some say it strengthens the immune system.
Afterwards I boiled eggs (protein protein!) and ate coco nut.I had to prepare some activities for the drug de-addiction center, remember the Pete’s balls? Working with these interesting and sometimes unpredicatable guys alone ought to have been a challenge. But after a several lifts I discovered the center was closed, so I ate the Diwali cake and drank Diwali Chay. Now I had to get back to Kalheli, which is around 5 km up North. Who thought I might come there with the Kawasaki Ninja 250, kindly offered by a local Hindu biker. Bikes are abundant here in India, but I’ve never seen a real street fighter before, and riding it felt like home. Except the helmet part which was missing
Guess what? Kalheli went Diwali too, so after eating a mouthful of candies I headed home. I new automobile stopped, and behind the steering wheel there sat a ..lady. Her license plates were from Himachal, so I proudly proclaimed she was the first woman ever to drive in India! My words cannot be interpreted as sexist, women simply don’t show aptitude for driving, at least according to the male drivers. But what a reversal of furtune it was when I discovered she was the most stereotypical driver ever: she drove steaily at 20km/h, shifting the wrong gear from time to time (she used only 2 of them anyways) and “breaking” when moving from stop-go. What a comedy and tragedy at the same time. I hope no one got into her way.
When I hit the Kullu by pass, I saw a man coming from the Sharab (alcohol) shop with two Kingfishers. He was making himself conmfortable when I approached the vehicle and asked for a lift. So we drove and didn’t speak. The first time I was ashamed to speak with the driver. For a handful of reasons, my clothes were dusty and I smelled of traffic. Then after 10 minutes he tld me in perfect English, “I don’t live in Kullu. I just like driving on the by-pass, there is not traffic.” I replied there surely wasn’t any.
He halted the vehicle and gave me a bottle of “the strongest beer in India” (4%!!!). There we sat and drunk beer. And the valley was generous with its red-orange-gray-green shades. We would lift our rights hands simultaneously for a gulp, as we gulped day became night.
I got off from his car, wished happy Diwali and went straight to the street restaurant to fill my slightly intoxicated stomach. Some people could speak for hours and you would bear no memeory of them. But this gulping and relaxing man truly made my day.
In the evening I felt lonely and boiled some eggs.
By the way, the movie “Planes. Trains. Automobiles.” Wasn’t that bad either, Steve Martin’s and X Candy’s conversations were comic and missing-my-belowed-ones-like. I loved Martin’s monologue, when he gets fed up with Candy’s “big mouth”:
"You're no saint. You got a free cab, you got a free room and someone who will listen to your boring stories. I mean didn't you notice on the plane, when you starting talking, eventually I started reading the vomit bag?"
The roof
Our master's house is a typical of its kind, but in order to understand why we pay so much for the rent, lets take a walk up stairs, on top of the roof. As I have mentioned before, houses are built floor-by-floor, with the supporting poles giving birth to a new floor and so on.
Our roof gets sunshine from 9 am till 3pm, so if I ever felt cold or in a bad mood - I come upstairs. If I look to the West - I see "the blue school", South - akhara bazaar (market), East - residential buildings, and North - a glimpse of the river Beas.
Five year olds setting off fireworks, rush hour at the candy shops and me all alone. Anine’s gone for her well deserved vocations in Rajastan, then Delhi and Agra. I couldn’t say I’m too lonely but two is a company..
I went to our institutions alone this week and Annine was certainly a missing asset in our activities. However, the blind school worked out nicely for me: we learned to speak about our families, houses and any other imaginable personal information. In other words, we played Facebook, whereas I learned the equivalent words in Hindi. I started taking this language seriously, especially after installing a pirated, but no less valuable Rosetta Stone!
Yet, Ghuruvar (Thursday) left a mark in my mind. I woke up early that day, did yoga and was about to take a shower, when I discovered the water boiler was turned off. It’s an open secret, that our master loves saving electricity and sneaking around our stuff, but this time I’d waken up 1 hour earlier to set get warm water, and after exercise – enjoy a warm shower. What else could a man need in the morning?
I took a cold shower. Some say it strengthens the immune system.
Afterwards I boiled eggs (protein protein!) and ate coco nut.I had to prepare some activities for the drug de-addiction center, remember the Pete’s balls? Working with these interesting and sometimes unpredicatable guys alone ought to have been a challenge. But after a several lifts I discovered the center was closed, so I ate the Diwali cake and drank Diwali Chay. Now I had to get back to Kalheli, which is around 5 km up North. Who thought I might come there with the Kawasaki Ninja 250, kindly offered by a local Hindu biker. Bikes are abundant here in India, but I’ve never seen a real street fighter before, and riding it felt like home. Except the helmet part which was missing
Guess what? Kalheli went Diwali too, so after eating a mouthful of candies I headed home. I new automobile stopped, and behind the steering wheel there sat a ..lady. Her license plates were from Himachal, so I proudly proclaimed she was the first woman ever to drive in India! My words cannot be interpreted as sexist, women simply don’t show aptitude for driving, at least according to the male drivers. But what a reversal of furtune it was when I discovered she was the most stereotypical driver ever: she drove steaily at 20km/h, shifting the wrong gear from time to time (she used only 2 of them anyways) and “breaking” when moving from stop-go. What a comedy and tragedy at the same time. I hope no one got into her way.
When I hit the Kullu by pass, I saw a man coming from the Sharab (alcohol) shop with two Kingfishers. He was making himself conmfortable when I approached the vehicle and asked for a lift. So we drove and didn’t speak. The first time I was ashamed to speak with the driver. For a handful of reasons, my clothes were dusty and I smelled of traffic. Then after 10 minutes he tld me in perfect English, “I don’t live in Kullu. I just like driving on the by-pass, there is not traffic.” I replied there surely wasn’t any.
He halted the vehicle and gave me a bottle of “the strongest beer in India” (4%!!!). There we sat and drunk beer. And the valley was generous with its red-orange-gray-green shades. We would lift our rights hands simultaneously for a gulp, as we gulped day became night.
I got off from his car, wished happy Diwali and went straight to the street restaurant to fill my slightly intoxicated stomach. Some people could speak for hours and you would bear no memeory of them. But this gulping and relaxing man truly made my day.
In the evening I felt lonely and boiled some eggs.
By the way, the movie “Planes. Trains. Automobiles.” Wasn’t that bad either, Steve Martin’s and X Candy’s conversations were comic and missing-my-belowed-ones-like. I loved Martin’s monologue, when he gets fed up with Candy’s “big mouth”:
"You're no saint. You got a free cab, you got a free room and someone who will listen to your boring stories. I mean didn't you notice on the plane, when you starting talking, eventually I started reading the vomit bag?"
The roof
Our master's house is a typical of its kind, but in order to understand why we pay so much for the rent, lets take a walk up stairs, on top of the roof. As I have mentioned before, houses are built floor-by-floor, with the supporting poles giving birth to a new floor and so on.
Our roof gets sunshine from 9 am till 3pm, so if I ever felt cold or in a bad mood - I come upstairs. If I look to the West - I see "the blue school", South - akhara bazaar (market), East - residential buildings, and North - a glimpse of the river Beas.
Saturday 30 October 2010
how I lived my week
Most paradoxically, the after-festival-week brought many new challenges to us. We’ve had some interesting moments like watching Joothi Hi Sahi a Hindi movie or organizing a trip for the blind children to the amusement park. On the other hand, our relationship with the Master [our room owner] ditorioted gradually throughout the week and this morning reached its climax. To add to this, we’d spent 2 days in Manali and established useful contacts with the British fundraisers and bought some things to the Nepali school. But things have their own order, and I shall give my subjective account of the previous week.
Manali fundraising
We’d usually go there each Wednesday, and on Tuesday evening the preparation part followed. We were selecting the books to be read and worksheets to be printed when Ankit told us that the following day we ought to go to Manali Sudhershana’s orphanage (our first time there) and meet a group of British students from a private High School in London. A rush of adrenaline set me on fire: “Fundraising! Responsibility! British People!:)”, I was worried and anxious. In fact hooked up with cortisol for a few days, I wonder sometimes whether there is enough blood to dilute all the stressful lipids in my body!
I managed to wake Anine up at 6am (completely insanely illegal time to wake up!), took a cold shower (who’s forgotten to turn on the water boiler?!) and got myself ready for a two hour trip to Manali. We planned to hitchhike, but that early in the morning roads appeared empty, so we stood there freezing on the Kullu by-pass. Fortunately, a bus picked us up. We enjoyed the comfort of the “deluxe sleeper”, where as Anine actually fell asleep, and reached Manali in 90 minutes! Then we took a rickshaw to the hotel Highland(er) and got terribly ripped off (that’s why I love Kullu – people would never deceive you there, as long as you’ve been haunting in the city for a few months!).
The British group consisted of 22 girls and 4 guys. Their splendid outfits and Converse sneakers contrasted with the Hindi clothing Apparently, they were well off, and the hotel looked impressive. The very same Nepali immigrants served them beans, ham and eggs, followed by the bagged tea – a rare phenomenon, finding its niche in the European-oriented hotels! I loved listening to the British accent, even though I always step into an uncanny valley when listening to the native speakers. However, the local children loved it, and carefully repeated “H stands for hoooose (horse)”.
Sudhershana orphanage started whwn a local woman named ...Sudhershana was asked to accommodate a poor pregnant lady some 6 years ago. It grew into large institution ever since, housing 40 children at the time, providing the elders with the vocational training (driver and IT professions). At the first glance her orphanage seemed poor, but that was the optical illusion created by the Indian speciality - garbage in the river. She has established a profitable money flow from the government and looked like the most luxurious institutions of all.
Our British counterparts brought the children to a massive field (almost non-existent luxury item to the other orphanages) and played sports games. They brought a few cricket bats, gates and those who honestly get the point of this game – please continue with the vocabulary items. After a few minutes children were presented with balloons and lost all of their attention from the new teachers, not to mention the fact that plentiful candies kept their mouths busy for a while.
Despite that, I saw the beauty in this cause: people coming all over the world to see the different lifestyle, accept it and help the ones in need. To make sure they saw the really –desperate-in-need institutions as well, we brought them to the Nepali school the other day. Due to the limited school area, we invited only 6 girls, who came with the book and stationery jammed bags. Of course they didn’t assume the worst case scenario (which is as follows: when planning a lesson expect the children have the least possible amount of knowledge in the particular subject), so the pre-nursery group were presented with the color pens instead. However, Fiona, one of the teachers, read a beautiful abc-story of Old MacDonald, who had a farm! Storing all of these books will be problematic, bearing the fact that there are no particular humidity proof closets or drawers in the office.
That’s why even before being exposed to this extraordinary amount of charity we decided to buy a new metal closet. Hence, after the beautiful Londoner ladies left, we went to the new Manali and bought a big metal closet for 3000 rupees and a globe. Globe was my favourite, knowing that geography is rarely thought in this part of the world!
We were happy to know that the British students managed to raise 600 pounds for the Kullu project cause, and Ankit will further coordinate the fundraising action. I hope that yesterday we solved at least some of their problems. Still, pupils are not coming back for December-March period as the winter colds will constipate the unfinished building.
Blind school
On the last days of Dussehra we organized a small trip for the young ones to the amusement park! In order to get the kids there we had to assist and guide their way till Dalpur. It took us some 30 minutes, walking in pairs, and stopping here and then to let the traffic go. Sad, in this country the car goes ahead of the pedestrian, and I felt especially cautious when handling the blind ones.
Once at the fair we sailed in the Columbus ship. A huge fly wheel propelled with a swinging “ship” hanging on the A-shaped metal carcass. There were enough space for 50 people, however there was not enough space for my lunch and at a time I sworn to God never ever become a sailor! Before subduing myself to the illness, I tried to close the eyes and imagine what they felt.
Remeber Harper Lee’s “To kill a mocking bird?” Atticus wisely said that "You never really knew a man until you stood in his shoes and walked around in them". After a month spent with them, I believe I am getting closer and closer to these people and I would never dare to classify blindness as a condition or sickness. It is a simple state whereas one has to relocate the brain resources to the other instruments of perception. Still, the linguistic barrier is standing solid, even though the rate of verbal learning is much more advanced in the blind children compared to the “sightful” people.
We met Shalini today, and will allocate some donations to pay for the transport to the mountain trip on the 13th of November. The whole student body should go with us and have a hands on experience with snow and Shanti. Shanti, means silence in Hindi, and living here amongst all of these cars and people they’ve got used to the noise. I wonder how will they accept silence there? Moreover, we will try to establish the contact with “Funskool” corporation, an accredited importer of Lego toys in India. I think there couldn’t be a more imagination enhancing toy on the market. Simple pieces and complicated mind, I bet they will visualize and construct, but now let’s try to get it first!
Karwachauth
I do not really know the meaning of this special Hindi day, but it is truly unique and extraordinary for me. Karwachauth is the day when a married woman prays for her husband’s long life and prosperity. She fasts for all the time, being eating when the Moonlight consents and giving up her daily duties and work as long as the sun is out there. This Tuesday we went t the Blind school and found none of the children, nor their teachers! After half an hour we went upstairs and found Budhram (a 19 year old crazy college student with impaired vision) cooking for 20 children! All the married staff was absent and guys had to run this institution for a day! Similarly, Bharat Bharti school was empty as well, as we travelled all the way to Dalphur to have a class with our wonderful friends. Today we will go there again and discuss the corporal punishments in Indian schools. I believe we will get some insightful ideas! Anyways, let the women Indian ladies prosper, whilst the Western man even in the most delirious dreams couldn’t imagine the wives fasting and praying for their lives!
Masterjeeeeeee
Our Master is a one-off character, the only one of his species, Greedicus Rupaye Accumulatus. The only subject he speaks with us about is.. money. How much, why so little, pay more, best accommodation in Kullu. In order to save electricity, which is really scarce in India, I take cold showers each morning. In addition, I explained it to Anine that the clean water resources in India are less than in Norway, although the latter is 10 times smaller than the former.
Still, yesterday his wife broke into Anine’s room just before were leaving for the Blind school and took her blanket! There were a huge fight with tears and swears, and quite frankly I am happy we are moving out next week. But where?
To finish with a happy note, I have started attending a local sports gym, and can proudly say that everyone else is shadowed by my biceps :D Also, we went out to movies, Filmi, and bought a few DVDs with classic Hindi movies, as one of their titles say “Old is Gold!”
Thursday 21 October 2010
The great festival week
First impressions from Dussehra
Dussehra started this Sunday, and the tourists flowed in great number. Over 600 deities came from the valley mountains. They are being carried by two persons, poles resting on the shoulders and deity’s mascot balancing in between. We never saw Dalpur in such a condition: clean streets, orange and red plastic stripes, wind and music. Masses of people to commence and commerce.
Firstly, we went through the bazaar, in Hindi - mella. You could get anything in there ranging from sugar cotton to a 4-wheel drive Mahindra. Dussehra went commercial. But how can we exactly now that spending less than 2 months here? Probably, it’s always been like that: a huge festival preceded by a respective autumn’s harvest. Hence people buy and sell and worship the god’s for one’s forsaken prosperity
Three football/cricket pitches are crowded with around 200 lakhs (thousands) of people on Dussehra. Once everyone is there standing, the gods start passing through towards the central square and all around the city. The guys carrying those spirits start swinging the structures and people have to run away to not get hurt. It was a real stampede! Some women were left injured, and my lungs nearly collapsed upon the pressure from the other bodies :D
Despite that, I ‘ve never felt so free and anarchistic in my whole life – being pushed by the thousands of cheerful folks is psychologically rewarding.
Besides Dussehra, a big international festival is taking place and we managed to see a few performances in the amphitheatre. I personally met a Kazakh troupe and exercised my Russian skills. You haven’t seen their faces, when I proclaimed: “Zdravstvuyte, iz kakye strany vy priehali?” I love being in India, but meeting even people from your own “block” feels special. I cast no doubts there must have been at least one Lithuanian among all of these goras (white skinned ones)!
I’m planning to get some shawls or our relatives and friends, and Dussehra is the right place.
Sitar classes
Today we visited the music school and agreed to start Sitar classes on Friday. Wouldn’t that be nice to bring home from India something more valuable than the Kullu cap? Let’s bring music! One of my friends helped me to fall in love with the Gypsy culture and I owe him one. Here in India, my Gypsy part of spirit is retained for a new life. Dresses, voices and sounds are too familiar to let them vibrate unnoticed.
Our future teacher, Rajeem, invited us to look at his dancers’ performance. There were 20 of them girls around 14-18 years old flexing divine sculptures with their bodies. After the dance they grabbed the Henna paint and drew virulent symbols on Anine’s hands. Meanwhile I had to content with an“OM”, as long as guys aren’t supposed to wear hand paintings We loved it and made friends with them all. Chay was rewarding as usual.
Limbo
Finding a place to live in India is easy, especially for a foreigner. Conversely, paying the right price is inversely proportional to the whiteness of your skin. Our master is a great man: in his 60's, housong 2 daughters and their children as well. However his 4 floor residence is far too big for an honorbleman of his age and family size. So he'd rent a few rooms for the tourists especially on Dussehra. In order to do so, he "requested me to relocate Anine" back to my room for 2 weeks. This was clearly what we didn't agree on before shaking each others' tongues for the almighty "verbal contract".
In the end, wemanaged to persuade him to give us a notice in case some tourists are coming, so that in a few hours time we'd move our stuff together and be sad. However, the last week as I saw it reminded me of "who's afraid of virginia wolf" scene when e. taylor attacks her historian husband and reveals their most intimate secrets. 6 renters came in total and they all caused lots of troubles. This morning we found Anine's towels covered in a yellow ..spice/sweat/goo, coridoor's odour was strikingly familiar to hashish. Apparently our boys had fun tonight and we'll pay the price by cleaning the bathroom again :)
I should apologize Jezhko for using his towel last year - I know miserable life becomes once your towel becomes a part of the community property ;D (I used it only twice, Jezhko!)
It seems that our master's and many rich but PECULIAR men's dignity can be sold for a staggering price of 300Rs per night.
This morning my iGoogle announced that "Moon Crater Contains Usable Water, NASA Says".
Sunday 17 October 2010
before Dusshera...
The Wedding
Wednesday was the long awaited Indian wedding day. Our friend Papu took us to a village 15 km away from Manali, and although by the time we reached our destination it was dark, there were literally kilometers of lamp cables leading the way to the main yard. In my life I happened to see lots of European marriage ceremonies, but they shamefully shy of decorations, music and food compared to the Indian ones. Let’s clarify, we hadn’t met the groom nor the bride before (neither that night), but their relatives showed the way inside a white tent, stuffed with 30 “drinking tables”. I was immediately served with “masahavi” food. The first time I’m eating meat in India! Still the “meat” is 90% bones and the rest is chicken or mutton.
Also, numerable appearances of the waitresses meant that the table had to carry a great deal of liquor glassware. Unlike in my own culture, North Indian people are careful with alcohol, their favorite choice being 1 part of whiskey and 3 parts of water. However, that night newlyweds’ family and friends skinned off the suits and celebrated. An hour later, all cheered up, we moved towards the dinner head quarters – garden. We ate right there on the ground from the plastic disposable plates. People accepted us warmly, and neighbors grinned occasionally at our failure to eat with the right hand.
Wedding food is special hear, it has its own colour (yellow/orange) and serving sequence. For a starter we are offered a handful of rice. Anine places her both palms over the plate and says “niche”, she doesn’t eat much rice. Then, brown beans follow. Dal, Alu, curry chase in and we get another serving of rice. The former meals are high in protein and are my favorites here in Himachal. Yet what follows next is a straight deviation from the sour and salty main courses. We get extra sour and sweet curry and mango pickle.
Before coming to India, I was aware of “the pickles” in the Eastern European way. Me, my sister and Mom would pick cucumber from the green house, shave off the spikes, wash them a few times with a boiling water and vacuum in the jars with lots of vinegar. Here everything pickled in one or the other way comes as a threat to my stomach! For desert we enjoy the orange sweet rice. I don’t know how they make them orange in colour, but it’s a sugary desert, enriched with cashew nuts.
On that night we made more friends than ever before, and some of them invited to pay a visit on Diwali break. Shimla, Rajastan, Panjab, UP! Locals, poor and rich, Brhmani and peasants, have one thing in common – hospitability. Abundant in the economically backward countries, it compensates with people’s smiles and kind heartedness.
Blind school
We face great difficulties in exchanging our thoughts with the blind kids. They’re mastering the verbal language easily, but learning new nouns such as a clock, floors, wall, cat or house is literally beyond their imagination. So I came up with a plan to get some Lego toys into the school.
All we need are the basic Lego pieces, whereas the resulting 3D sculptures have endless number of permutations. I love Lego, and I couldn’t imagine my childhood without it. So I found out an Indian company producing similar toys (it has the Danish license as well). What we should do now is to get into contact with them and ask for a few sets. I’m sure we could negotiate with the company on the advertising basis. Hopefully, by the end of Dusshera we’ll establish a dialogue.
Dusshera
Tomorrow marks the start of the most flamboyant event in Kullu. It’s celebrated around India as well, but in Kullu Dusshera has a symbolic meaning. On one hand the Gods come down from the valley mountains, on the other – tourists. Lots of them are eager to spend the money on Kullu shawls and dresses. Truly beautiful textile is made right here in Kullu, and the foreigners bring sweet profits to the shop keepers. Speaking of whom majority are Sikhs. I wish me knew more Sikhs in person. But apparently only brahmani caste lives in Akhara (our part of the city).
Wednesday was the long awaited Indian wedding day. Our friend Papu took us to a village 15 km away from Manali, and although by the time we reached our destination it was dark, there were literally kilometers of lamp cables leading the way to the main yard. In my life I happened to see lots of European marriage ceremonies, but they shamefully shy of decorations, music and food compared to the Indian ones. Let’s clarify, we hadn’t met the groom nor the bride before (neither that night), but their relatives showed the way inside a white tent, stuffed with 30 “drinking tables”. I was immediately served with “masahavi” food. The first time I’m eating meat in India! Still the “meat” is 90% bones and the rest is chicken or mutton.
Also, numerable appearances of the waitresses meant that the table had to carry a great deal of liquor glassware. Unlike in my own culture, North Indian people are careful with alcohol, their favorite choice being 1 part of whiskey and 3 parts of water. However, that night newlyweds’ family and friends skinned off the suits and celebrated. An hour later, all cheered up, we moved towards the dinner head quarters – garden. We ate right there on the ground from the plastic disposable plates. People accepted us warmly, and neighbors grinned occasionally at our failure to eat with the right hand.
Wedding food is special hear, it has its own colour (yellow/orange) and serving sequence. For a starter we are offered a handful of rice. Anine places her both palms over the plate and says “niche”, she doesn’t eat much rice. Then, brown beans follow. Dal, Alu, curry chase in and we get another serving of rice. The former meals are high in protein and are my favorites here in Himachal. Yet what follows next is a straight deviation from the sour and salty main courses. We get extra sour and sweet curry and mango pickle.
Before coming to India, I was aware of “the pickles” in the Eastern European way. Me, my sister and Mom would pick cucumber from the green house, shave off the spikes, wash them a few times with a boiling water and vacuum in the jars with lots of vinegar. Here everything pickled in one or the other way comes as a threat to my stomach! For desert we enjoy the orange sweet rice. I don’t know how they make them orange in colour, but it’s a sugary desert, enriched with cashew nuts.
On that night we made more friends than ever before, and some of them invited to pay a visit on Diwali break. Shimla, Rajastan, Panjab, UP! Locals, poor and rich, Brhmani and peasants, have one thing in common – hospitability. Abundant in the economically backward countries, it compensates with people’s smiles and kind heartedness.
Blind school
We face great difficulties in exchanging our thoughts with the blind kids. They’re mastering the verbal language easily, but learning new nouns such as a clock, floors, wall, cat or house is literally beyond their imagination. So I came up with a plan to get some Lego toys into the school.
All we need are the basic Lego pieces, whereas the resulting 3D sculptures have endless number of permutations. I love Lego, and I couldn’t imagine my childhood without it. So I found out an Indian company producing similar toys (it has the Danish license as well). What we should do now is to get into contact with them and ask for a few sets. I’m sure we could negotiate with the company on the advertising basis. Hopefully, by the end of Dusshera we’ll establish a dialogue.Dusshera
Tomorrow marks the start of the most flamboyant event in Kullu. It’s celebrated around India as well, but in Kullu Dusshera has a symbolic meaning. On one hand the Gods come down from the valley mountains, on the other – tourists. Lots of them are eager to spend the money on Kullu shawls and dresses. Truly beautiful textile is made right here in Kullu, and the foreigners bring sweet profits to the shop keepers. Speaking of whom majority are Sikhs. I wish me knew more Sikhs in person. But apparently only brahmani caste lives in Akhara (our part of the city).
Sunday 10 October 2010
Catching up
Bharat Bharti
We've finally sorted out the contracts with the management. Our activities there are as follows: Monday, Tuesday, Friday - English; Saturday - crafts and physical experiences. Additionally, audio book recording and OCR scans (my favourite s o far). We arrive by 10 o'clock, and the kids surprise us: "Good morning M'am, Sir". They can literally smell and feel us. Following Aristotel, me and Anine should be made of "ether”, or the sixth matter :)
The first thing to do before engaging in any activities with the blind would be learning their names. In our first classes I haven't met this article properly. I'd thump the table space next to a desired kid to gain his attention. We were asserted 13 of them - youngest ones. They already know how to take the full advantage of the remaining sensory perception, they'd mastered Brail long ago, move freely around ashram unsupervised. They are 5 to 9 years old.
Besides the name, we learned the extent of their disability as well. Majority were born completely blind, whilst a few show dark/light sensitivity. Most importantly, a few have a so called MD (multiple disability), usually mental retardation. Getting their attention, working with and anticipating the feedback are challenging, patience consuming.
Third and the final rule, never help a blind one to move around the ashram. For example, there is a beautiful 5 year old girl, with fully impaired vision. She is new in the school, and just started learning how to be independent. Sometimes me and Anine couldn't resist the temptation to help her around when she was going to the toiled or coming back from it. in contrast, the others are sharp orienteers, no assistance needed. Well, not the clearest explanation of my point, but nothing is certain here anyways :)
This Saturday we had a massage session. Even the elders showed up as it's a school free day (2nd Saturday of the month is a Hindu holiday). Girls and boys sat separately, facing forwards each others back on a mat, and massaged. Anine knew a great deal in it, I contributed my own moves as well. We played Chopen and Steve Vai. Kids love solos!
Our award, a lunch with the blind, was sponsored by the local wedding. We'd been hearing the wedding march for a few days then, and knew that smth big was happening. Now, the jigsaw solved itself and manifested in a great WEDDING FOOD. Traditionally, too much food is made for Indian weddings, hence the orphanages and schools for poor are given the surplus. That day I enjoyed rice and curry, black beans, cauliflower, mango pickle and "an unnamed long white vegetable".
I couldn't imagine a better beginning...
Still digesting the sloppy lunch remains, we headed towards Dhalpur and Kullu hospital in particular. Behind it, Kullu electricity transformators reside. You can hear the electrical orchestra playing in the wires. Tajender's father is a manager there, and Tajender himself is one f our beloved Bharat Bharti students. He kindly invited Anine and me to have a dinner.
His Mom and Papa showed extraordinary curiosity about the lifestyles of Norway and Russia ;D As a rule of thumb, if a person fails to realize Lithuania's lcation on the globe, I concede being a Russian. What a paradox, to say the least! They were shocked to know that "Russians" eat pork, beef, mutton and chicken. Even more, "we" have it for lunch as well. Despite the cultural abyss, they loved me and served their best foods. Matar Paneer, Alu Ghubi, Shimla apple and for desert - sweet rice with Ghee. Importantly, everything was made from their own products. Tajender's family has big farm in Shimla, they grow apples worth 4 lakhs and 3 cows. Ghee is not atypical butter, because it's liquid and warm. Certainly a product of the backward refrigerator industry. We talked on "love" and "politics".
Manali School
We've finally had our first class with the Nepali kids in Manali. There are 20 students o both gender and ages from 3 to 13. The elder ones speak a great deal of English and play basketball at NCAA level to say the least. We agreed to spend 5 hours each Wednesday and it'll stay as our main priority. School is a 4 room building undergoing a re-construction lately. There is no electricity, nor the 6 walls.
Cobblers
I've finished the 1st season of The Wire. Why did I start watching it? Probably, to compensate for the lack of Western culture. Vicariously watching people die and sniff crack. Eerie, but familiar :) Not as if I was a great fan of these activities, but I'm simply missing Hollywood, and He is missing me. It's challenging for the Bollywood producers to sell violence (not as much as it was 30 years earlier though), as long as melodramas and "soapy" movies prevail.
Throughout the last 10 days lots of personal issues prevented me from "opening up". I was reading on neuroscience "Foundations of evolutionary neuroscience" and Marx. I always regretted not taking a closer look at the latter, instead of perversely slandering his image.
Dushera starts soon, and tomorrow Papu's bringing us to Manali - a real Indian wedding. He promised us a delicate cultural pearl, we'll see about that.
Meanwhile, the calendar strikes 13 months. Our first kiss being 13 months old, I'm a happy father, though 13 is a sad number. Probably one day we'll stop counting months, as they'll be shadowed by the years, decades, and from what I've read and future medical care promises - centuries TOGETHER! You stir up my temporal lobe - I cannot remember my name, You cause lesions in the orbitofrontal cortex - I lose my mind... Sheldon couldn't have said it better, but those things happen when I think of You!
We've finally sorted out the contracts with the management. Our activities there are as follows: Monday, Tuesday, Friday - English; Saturday - crafts and physical experiences. Additionally, audio book recording and OCR scans (my favourite s o far). We arrive by 10 o'clock, and the kids surprise us: "Good morning M'am, Sir". They can literally smell and feel us. Following Aristotel, me and Anine should be made of "ether”, or the sixth matter :)
The first thing to do before engaging in any activities with the blind would be learning their names. In our first classes I haven't met this article properly. I'd thump the table space next to a desired kid to gain his attention. We were asserted 13 of them - youngest ones. They already know how to take the full advantage of the remaining sensory perception, they'd mastered Brail long ago, move freely around ashram unsupervised. They are 5 to 9 years old.
Besides the name, we learned the extent of their disability as well. Majority were born completely blind, whilst a few show dark/light sensitivity. Most importantly, a few have a so called MD (multiple disability), usually mental retardation. Getting their attention, working with and anticipating the feedback are challenging, patience consuming.
Third and the final rule, never help a blind one to move around the ashram. For example, there is a beautiful 5 year old girl, with fully impaired vision. She is new in the school, and just started learning how to be independent. Sometimes me and Anine couldn't resist the temptation to help her around when she was going to the toiled or coming back from it. in contrast, the others are sharp orienteers, no assistance needed. Well, not the clearest explanation of my point, but nothing is certain here anyways :)
This Saturday we had a massage session. Even the elders showed up as it's a school free day (2nd Saturday of the month is a Hindu holiday). Girls and boys sat separately, facing forwards each others back on a mat, and massaged. Anine knew a great deal in it, I contributed my own moves as well. We played Chopen and Steve Vai. Kids love solos!
Our award, a lunch with the blind, was sponsored by the local wedding. We'd been hearing the wedding march for a few days then, and knew that smth big was happening. Now, the jigsaw solved itself and manifested in a great WEDDING FOOD. Traditionally, too much food is made for Indian weddings, hence the orphanages and schools for poor are given the surplus. That day I enjoyed rice and curry, black beans, cauliflower, mango pickle and "an unnamed long white vegetable".
I couldn't imagine a better beginning...
Still digesting the sloppy lunch remains, we headed towards Dhalpur and Kullu hospital in particular. Behind it, Kullu electricity transformators reside. You can hear the electrical orchestra playing in the wires. Tajender's father is a manager there, and Tajender himself is one f our beloved Bharat Bharti students. He kindly invited Anine and me to have a dinner.
His Mom and Papa showed extraordinary curiosity about the lifestyles of Norway and Russia ;D As a rule of thumb, if a person fails to realize Lithuania's lcation on the globe, I concede being a Russian. What a paradox, to say the least! They were shocked to know that "Russians" eat pork, beef, mutton and chicken. Even more, "we" have it for lunch as well. Despite the cultural abyss, they loved me and served their best foods. Matar Paneer, Alu Ghubi, Shimla apple and for desert - sweet rice with Ghee. Importantly, everything was made from their own products. Tajender's family has big farm in Shimla, they grow apples worth 4 lakhs and 3 cows. Ghee is not atypical butter, because it's liquid and warm. Certainly a product of the backward refrigerator industry. We talked on "love" and "politics".
Manali School
We've finally had our first class with the Nepali kids in Manali. There are 20 students o both gender and ages from 3 to 13. The elder ones speak a great deal of English and play basketball at NCAA level to say the least. We agreed to spend 5 hours each Wednesday and it'll stay as our main priority. School is a 4 room building undergoing a re-construction lately. There is no electricity, nor the 6 walls.
Cobblers
I've finished the 1st season of The Wire. Why did I start watching it? Probably, to compensate for the lack of Western culture. Vicariously watching people die and sniff crack. Eerie, but familiar :) Not as if I was a great fan of these activities, but I'm simply missing Hollywood, and He is missing me. It's challenging for the Bollywood producers to sell violence (not as much as it was 30 years earlier though), as long as melodramas and "soapy" movies prevail.
Throughout the last 10 days lots of personal issues prevented me from "opening up". I was reading on neuroscience "Foundations of evolutionary neuroscience" and Marx. I always regretted not taking a closer look at the latter, instead of perversely slandering his image.
Dushera starts soon, and tomorrow Papu's bringing us to Manali - a real Indian wedding. He promised us a delicate cultural pearl, we'll see about that.
Meanwhile, the calendar strikes 13 months. Our first kiss being 13 months old, I'm a happy father, though 13 is a sad number. Probably one day we'll stop counting months, as they'll be shadowed by the years, decades, and from what I've read and future medical care promises - centuries TOGETHER! You stir up my temporal lobe - I cannot remember my name, You cause lesions in the orbitofrontal cortex - I lose my mind... Sheldon couldn't have said it better, but those things happen when I think of You!
Friday 1 October 2010
Trip to Manali, establishing new contacts
On Wednesday our schedule was rather self-effacing, consequently we went to Manali for the first time. Every tourist whose foot touches Himachal ought to go to Manali. Young ones – to smoke up, elders – to visit the temples. However one nation deserves a special commentary. Israelis! Escaping the army and enjoying a cheap “study in India” term, Manali is the New Promised Land.
Once on the by-pass, we got a hike from a rickshaw truck. We weren’t alone, three pressurized butane gas balloons accompanied us. Instructions on them clearly said “Keep under 30 C, Be careful!”. What a coincidence, the local air temperate had been 30C for a few days then, and the rickshaw besides its ability to wrap the space time, bounced up and down on the road. Say, instead of 40 minutes “standard” (nothing comes in standards here) trip, we’d been shaken for 2.
City center was magnificent and taken care of. I know that one of my friends lived there for a long time, now I wondered to which school did he go, maybe I was walking the same paths as he did? Me and Anine went to the Holy Star private school, there we had to meet a contact person for the Nepali immigrant worker’s school, which was somewhere out of reach. Listen, the abovementioned “holy star” turned out to be a David’s star This made me laugh for a period of time. However, morning prayers were conducted in the Catholic tradition.
Soon we met Prashana, his wife Sunny and their daughter Joyce. Besides being lovely Christians, they helped around with the Nepali school as well, Sunny’s been working there since April. She explained that the school can barely pay 2000 Rs for the rent, and bus services. She explained, there were 30 children with a really poor level of English. Nepali’s come to Manali to work in the tourism industry, construction sites and part time workers, due to higher salaries, and many of their children abandon education whatsoever. Local Nepalis were pushing for a school like that, and they partially fund it.
Sky turned black, and we opted for home. A few tourist cabs stopped for us, “Kullu, 10 000 Rs, come with me ;)”, they were kindly refused. Few cars would stop, but in the end I was laying down on a styrofoam mattress, observing the Milky Way. Light pollution is sparse in the mountain regions. I dreamed about Us and Our future, and a powerful motorcycle, cozy apartment, warmth borrowed from You. Is it true that the stars are at their best when one looks at them alone? True true…
As for now, we have got 3 new institutions: the blind school, Napali school and Bhrat Bharati
Once on the by-pass, we got a hike from a rickshaw truck. We weren’t alone, three pressurized butane gas balloons accompanied us. Instructions on them clearly said “Keep under 30 C, Be careful!”. What a coincidence, the local air temperate had been 30C for a few days then, and the rickshaw besides its ability to wrap the space time, bounced up and down on the road. Say, instead of 40 minutes “standard” (nothing comes in standards here) trip, we’d been shaken for 2.
City center was magnificent and taken care of. I know that one of my friends lived there for a long time, now I wondered to which school did he go, maybe I was walking the same paths as he did? Me and Anine went to the Holy Star private school, there we had to meet a contact person for the Nepali immigrant worker’s school, which was somewhere out of reach. Listen, the abovementioned “holy star” turned out to be a David’s star This made me laugh for a period of time. However, morning prayers were conducted in the Catholic tradition.
Soon we met Prashana, his wife Sunny and their daughter Joyce. Besides being lovely Christians, they helped around with the Nepali school as well, Sunny’s been working there since April. She explained that the school can barely pay 2000 Rs for the rent, and bus services. She explained, there were 30 children with a really poor level of English. Nepali’s come to Manali to work in the tourism industry, construction sites and part time workers, due to higher salaries, and many of their children abandon education whatsoever. Local Nepalis were pushing for a school like that, and they partially fund it.
Sky turned black, and we opted for home. A few tourist cabs stopped for us, “Kullu, 10 000 Rs, come with me ;)”, they were kindly refused. Few cars would stop, but in the end I was laying down on a styrofoam mattress, observing the Milky Way. Light pollution is sparse in the mountain regions. I dreamed about Us and Our future, and a powerful motorcycle, cozy apartment, warmth borrowed from You. Is it true that the stars are at their best when one looks at them alone? True true…
As for now, we have got 3 new institutions: the blind school, Napali school and Bhrat Bharati
Tuesday 28 September 2010
Don't mess with my nerves!
I missed Yoga yesterday, but as it turned out this morning, there will be no more training sessions for us. It's over. Without hesitating much I knocked on the priest's doors (arranging his arranged marriage is smoothening out, last week he dropped in to evaluate his future wife's family and dowry.), he unlocked the ceremonial room and I did Yoga by myself. I felt immature and cold :)
Anyways, we had a "green" lunch on Monday, consisting of lentils and beans:
Then, we visited a temple which is next doors to our modest accommodation:
Finally, in Bhuntar, got a few more pictures and headed for Kalheli.
As we've lost Bashing, the more and more time is spent in this ashram. And this time the children were slightly bored by us: watching Smackdown (Undertaker vs. Kane - I enjoyed that one as well!), Bollywood hits with Govindah and doing homework.
Last day, we awarded them with a few nicely printed and laminated scripts. Surprisingly today none of them were present, so I lost my patience easily, shouted. Imagine me exploding on them. BJ calmed me down. BJ is a 12 year old boy. Just like the majority of orphanage kids in India, he has both parents, who take him back for a holiday season and summer. Instinctively I am convinced that the reason behind the low girls population in orphanages is due to female infanticide. Staggering numbers, over 10 million each year. The boy dreams of becoming a police driver and attending a +2 school in the English medium. Hindi schools are cheap, only 100 Rs. per year, compared to English ones 800 Rs. It's heart brekaing to realize that the child's future is determined by $15.
In the end, they have lost my new ball from the Juggling collection! (^ ^), on top of that we inadvertently refused to eat the dinner there, which my stomach regretted ever after. We'll manage them better next time.
Anyways, we had a "green" lunch on Monday, consisting of lentils and beans:
Then, we visited a temple which is next doors to our modest accommodation:
Finally, in Bhuntar, got a few more pictures and headed for Kalheli.
As we've lost Bashing, the more and more time is spent in this ashram. And this time the children were slightly bored by us: watching Smackdown (Undertaker vs. Kane - I enjoyed that one as well!), Bollywood hits with Govindah and doing homework.
Last day, we awarded them with a few nicely printed and laminated scripts. Surprisingly today none of them were present, so I lost my patience easily, shouted. Imagine me exploding on them. BJ calmed me down. BJ is a 12 year old boy. Just like the majority of orphanage kids in India, he has both parents, who take him back for a holiday season and summer. Instinctively I am convinced that the reason behind the low girls population in orphanages is due to female infanticide. Staggering numbers, over 10 million each year. The boy dreams of becoming a police driver and attending a +2 school in the English medium. Hindi schools are cheap, only 100 Rs. per year, compared to English ones 800 Rs. It's heart brekaing to realize that the child's future is determined by $15.
In the end, they have lost my new ball from the Juggling collection! (^ ^), on top of that we inadvertently refused to eat the dinner there, which my stomach regretted ever after. We'll manage them better next time.
Sunday 26 September 2010
Third visit to Paramita's house, rehearsing at Kalheli and Dalphur's song competition
On Saturday we visited Paramita's home once more. I was really nervous and erratic that day, and guess at whom my anger was released? True, Anine. I kept on blaming her for disrespecting time, writing too much stuff on Facebook and walking slower than I did. In short, I was in the "ass-hole mode". All we needed to do wasno less than editing the script, making the letters bigger, cropping lines seperately for each person, etc. Yet, our dynamic duo ended up quarelling in no time, just in front of Joy (husband) and Lavania (Paramita's daughter), whose father (a famous photogapher) just came back from Stockholm and contributed some "utterly amazing" stories from Scandinavia.
I felt fed up with my partner, strangers praising her country, me introducing myself as Sergey from Russia. Listen, I grabbed Lavania by her hand and brought her to play. We played badminton and table tennis, which she either was not familiar with, or a lousy little girl child player. Being the latter, I supposed we could go to the blackboard and "draw". I taught her how to draw a cube: "Draw 1 quadrat, draw another on top of it, connect the edges." I taught her some logarithms as well, of which Joy was really pleased. I congratulated him with his daughter finihing the high school mathematics course at the age of 7!
You cannot imagine how big a relief do children bring to the irritated and angry people, as I was before. Accompanied by paramita we went to Kalheli and rehearsed the skit again. Our boys are spitfires and hyperactive, only Diwan being the omniscient leader of this hound gang :)
We gave him Lakshmi's part, it's around 200 words, making him the main figure in our modest play. God provide Diwan with memory and ating skills, we'll do the rest! Paramita taught them how to sing an "another" Nationalistic song, God should reserve her a buqiet of flowers and candies. Speaking of which, Northern India is the hell on earth for the chocolote lovers. Sparse chocolate resources and "cultural" vegetarianism (in europe it is rather "popular" to say the least) are the key factors separating our cultures. So, I got a Kit Kat.
Worth mentioning, after making chapatis the day before, we felt well accustomed in anat asharam's kitchen, and on Saturday we saw the kids frying a derivative of chapati, namely, "Roti". It was oily and greasy, once submerged into boiling fat it would inflate like a balloon and collapse afterwards. I was fascinated by its nutritional supremacy. Hence, we stayed for a dinner. I got Alu (potatoes) in the tomato soup. Therefore, AluTomato! Kids and the managment were heartedly surprised that we loved orphanage's food. So went on and explained them how much would this menu cost in the European restaurants!
On Sunday we planned to establish further contacts with the blind and Bhrat Bharati (Bharati - means "Indian") schools. We knew it was in Dalphur, but where exactly? The bus came handy with the nod of his head, and guess where did we end up? In the mid way between Kullu and Bunthat, some 5 km from Bhrat Bharati. We promised to work on our gullibility, and never trust bus conductors again! We hitchiked to the place with a beautiful family car, whereas the father was blessed with 4 beautiful daughters. He seemed unhappy. But one of them was particularly attractive and talkative, a cumputer netwroks student. In Lithuania computer science sill stands as the last bastillia for male dominated student bodies, radically reverse situation is here in India.
We followed one group of 20-30 nicely dressed up girls and ended up in a big out doors singing competition. School representatives from all around the Himachal Pradesh (or simply HP) were present. Occasionally we felt 6 thousand eyes staring at the two of us, but how much joy and interest we received from those young nice girls! They taught us ingenious games with the pebbles found right there in the grass and someHindi as well. Panch baje giro - it's five o'clock! Tomorrow I'll go to Yoga, and Anine will try playing Sitara with the girls' teacher. Her name is Flower.
In the end we got ice-cream and corn in Bhuntar.
I felt fed up with my partner, strangers praising her country, me introducing myself as Sergey from Russia. Listen, I grabbed Lavania by her hand and brought her to play. We played badminton and table tennis, which she either was not familiar with, or a lousy little girl child player. Being the latter, I supposed we could go to the blackboard and "draw". I taught her how to draw a cube: "Draw 1 quadrat, draw another on top of it, connect the edges." I taught her some logarithms as well, of which Joy was really pleased. I congratulated him with his daughter finihing the high school mathematics course at the age of 7!
You cannot imagine how big a relief do children bring to the irritated and angry people, as I was before. Accompanied by paramita we went to Kalheli and rehearsed the skit again. Our boys are spitfires and hyperactive, only Diwan being the omniscient leader of this hound gang :)
We gave him Lakshmi's part, it's around 200 words, making him the main figure in our modest play. God provide Diwan with memory and ating skills, we'll do the rest! Paramita taught them how to sing an "another" Nationalistic song, God should reserve her a buqiet of flowers and candies. Speaking of which, Northern India is the hell on earth for the chocolote lovers. Sparse chocolate resources and "cultural" vegetarianism (in europe it is rather "popular" to say the least) are the key factors separating our cultures. So, I got a Kit Kat.
Worth mentioning, after making chapatis the day before, we felt well accustomed in anat asharam's kitchen, and on Saturday we saw the kids frying a derivative of chapati, namely, "Roti". It was oily and greasy, once submerged into boiling fat it would inflate like a balloon and collapse afterwards. I was fascinated by its nutritional supremacy. Hence, we stayed for a dinner. I got Alu (potatoes) in the tomato soup. Therefore, AluTomato! Kids and the managment were heartedly surprised that we loved orphanage's food. So went on and explained them how much would this menu cost in the European restaurants!
On Sunday we planned to establish further contacts with the blind and Bhrat Bharati (Bharati - means "Indian") schools. We knew it was in Dalphur, but where exactly? The bus came handy with the nod of his head, and guess where did we end up? In the mid way between Kullu and Bunthat, some 5 km from Bhrat Bharati. We promised to work on our gullibility, and never trust bus conductors again! We hitchiked to the place with a beautiful family car, whereas the father was blessed with 4 beautiful daughters. He seemed unhappy. But one of them was particularly attractive and talkative, a cumputer netwroks student. In Lithuania computer science sill stands as the last bastillia for male dominated student bodies, radically reverse situation is here in India.
We followed one group of 20-30 nicely dressed up girls and ended up in a big out doors singing competition. School representatives from all around the Himachal Pradesh (or simply HP) were present. Occasionally we felt 6 thousand eyes staring at the two of us, but how much joy and interest we received from those young nice girls! They taught us ingenious games with the pebbles found right there in the grass and someHindi as well. Panch baje giro - it's five o'clock! Tomorrow I'll go to Yoga, and Anine will try playing Sitara with the girls' teacher. Her name is Flower.
In the end we got ice-cream and corn in Bhuntar.
Friday 24 September 2010
Me ne anat ashram me Chapati banay !!!
(Yesterday I made Chapatis at the orphanage)
We were supposed to work on the theater skit, yet some of the most talented pearls were away for a badminton competition in Kullu. So watched BBC Life on Mammals and talked about..mammals!
Afterwards we were invited to the kitchen to make Chapatis. God gracious, making Chapatis is a laborious task.
Tuesday 21 September 2010
Yoga and Herbage
This Saturday, just before going to Basing and hearing the terrible news, we paid a visit to masala/spice shop. It’s run by an astounding couple, both late into their 60’s, still having a crow black hair. Besides spices one could find anything ranging from butane gas to Nestle milk powder, of which I am a great fan myself!
He belongs to the active intelligence of Kullu town, together with several elder family heads runs a school, serves morning prayer at 8am and does Yoga on a daily basis.
He’s taught us how difficult it is to find a partner in India and rebel against family’s favorite pick. As a matter of fact, we are not aware of any divorced couples in this down, married people are smiling and helping each other. This comes at a price, whereas a woman has to play a submissive role and man is her “God”. Do we remember our grand-parents marrying in the same way? The smiling shop owner stops doing so once he hears about the US. “It’s a self-destructive parody of democracy”, he claims.
On Sunday morning we were invited to have Yoga with him and other Kullu people, also a new Yoga teacher has just came from Rajastan. Here we were, at 5.30 am flexing bodies and squirting lungs. The last exercise – stand up as a dog and whilst breathing in and leaning back upwards, laugh laugh laugh!
I went there on Monday, and Today as well. We great our guru by sayng “Om G”. I You still remember “Bro G”?! There are a few differences between two concepts, as ”Om G” helps to stretch one’s tendons and happiness whilst “Bro G” speaks Bronx.
Yesterday we had the biggest carnage party ever! Wait, what’s the Latin equivalent for vegetarian carnage? Herbage. For 70 Rs I ate like a king, leaving two extra chapattis for a cow outside. Today I’m drinking Re-hydratation Salts solutions J
Anine is feeling even worse, as she had a fever even before yesterday. We aren’t visiting any institutions today, but tomorrow we’ll go to Kaleyhli and continue the skit preparations. I went there the day before, but as long as both Anine and Paramita couldn’t show up, we watched an incredible nature documentary series “Life” by BBC. This afternoon kids saw a chameleon shooting out its sticky tongue at the praying mantis in Madagascar and Komodo dragons hunting down a...buffalo. Shortly afterwards evolutionary discussion followed, driven by those keen to discuss the adaptations of reptiles and amphibians.
When the sun went down at 6.30, I was challenged for a game of badminton by Raj Mohan. I bit his dust.
How should we get back to Bashing? How to strengthen the connections with Bhrat Bharati and Blind school? Tonight I’ll try finish Bashing profiles, despite the fact that we aren’t allowed to fund raise for their cause. I missed my Princes, her soft skin, tender touch and smart ideas, which are the necessary attributes for each self respectful princess. But mine is special, I have no doubts about it!
Sunday 19 September 2010
Lunch with Paramita, expulsion from Bashing and this morning’s Yoga
On 17th we came to Paramita’s house. We agreed to have a lunch first, afterwards leaving time t finalize the script and bring it to Bashing for a tryout.
Although being an upper middle class family woman, she cooks outside (gas is too expensive!), on the most peculiar degenerate of what is known as the European barbeque. Recipe as follows: a few stones placed in a circle, fume collector, finalizing into a tall pipe with a roof on top. Her house maid puts a thick metal bowl on the stones and cook trout with masala, dal and ladyfingers. Paramita is Bengali, so fish commonly ends up on a table in her house, just as well as mutton and chicken.
A pressure cooker is exhaling hot vapor – less than 15 minutes and rice is ready. I remember, my grandmother , with a species name of Homo Sovieticus, was explaining me, Homo Post-Sovieticus, the dangers and cons of “rusky made pressure cooker”. It exploded often enough in her, her neighbors and their friends of friends’ kitchens, to create a popular mistrust in it all around the country J
There I was, now a man, facing that smoldering steel volcano. And God bless the pressure cookers around the world for a g/food reason – stuff inside tastes delicious. Paramita served us first, and then she ate a humongous plate. Her daughter, 6, came back from Cambridge school a few minutes later and we watched her previous school videos. Children of all age and undoubtedly rich parents were dancing and shaking their “budies” together with Akon and Beyonce. “Vanity fair”, a foreigner might say, but rich schools’ shows were always pompous and dry in content.
Later on we presented our script to the kids in Kalheli. They didn’t know how to read English! Haha, we will adopt a dinosaur of education – memorizing J Money for the trip is organized, Paramita will work on clothes, make up - we’ll make it. So far so good.
On 18th we finally got expelled from Bashing..by its own board! These guys who fund the orphanage appeared on several occasions previously and were curious how British were we, and what on earth brought us there to teach English, Geo and initiative games. This time they told us politely “Do not come here again”. We cried we called Ankit. Wegave them the last lesson on Geographic orientation and waters. I sang them Lithuanian basketball anthem “Ant kalno murai, joja Lietuviai..” and Anine spun them with “Uncle Jakob”. That is it. We aren’t allowed to meet them again, and what hurts the most – absence of any reasonable arguments against our teaching.
We were rippedof in our traditional eating place again. I fully understand that the bargaining foreigners look stupid, but to see others paying 30Rs and then being asked 60Rs reminds me of…racism . Splendid and pure as milk – people who’sskin is “gora” (white) are being mistreated quite badly. Evidently I’m struggling with some self expression, let it be.
Listen, today we wokeup at 0530 and went to the morning prayer and yoga followed. A real yoga guru is visiting Kullu for 7 days, so we couldn’t miss the chance. Previously I had Yoga with my Mom, but today’s experience was beyond comparison. For 100 minutes we breathedand flexed. Afterwards I felt relaxed by the dopamine. I promise to go to yoga each morning from now on.
Later on, we met Das. Das’s cook is a gifted artist. When reading Gunesekera’s “Reef” I pondered how could the food deserve so much attention. Now I have tasted and loved it. Das promised to buy us a flight to Sai Baba’s city. We’d spend 1 week in South India and witness Sai Baba’s miracles first hand J
Saturday 18 September 2010
2010 Hashish and other earthly addictions
Time is passing too quickly… nights follow days and vice versa. Have I run out of time? Too much time spent dreaming about the future. Let’s get back to reality.
Why am I so confused? Because Flash games rule!!! For the last few days Modestas have been trying to unlock level 19 of the Dog Fight 2. No excuses, but those WWII fighter plane games are addictive as hashish. And the latter one is getting closer to us every day. It’s being grown in our garden, processed in the kitchen conditions, sold straight here on the street. In the morning I’m being awakened by an unmistakable marijuana odor!
Yesterday we visited Papu, a crazy guy who’s wife is long dead. He lives by himself and “grows stuff” for his own “consumption”. However, we didn’t smoke hash, instead, made Italian coffee. I brought the Machinatta, Illy ground coffee and Anine. What else would Papu expect from me? So the coffee was too sweet, and he didn’t even try it. I remembered my long forgotten (2 weeks) addiction, oh pretty caffeine molecules! The very same guy likes speaking with us too much, thus living up his own addiction. However, apart from speaking, we watched two movies: Bollywood one and Scary Movie first part. Guess which one was Papu’s favorite.
Today we finally managed to get to the drug de-addiction centre and do a 1 hour session. I will tell you the way this organization works. There are around 45 men in there, who were all addicted to either Alcohol, Hashish, Heroin or Carabin (marijuana). Some of them were poly-addicts, for instance, the youngest inhabitant, Jarekesh 15. The oldest is 55.
Even the director and chefs were all once addicted. Usually, their families themselves bring their sick men to this institution, telling them a white lie instead of the truth. White lie typically is “They will detoxicate you and take some urine samples”. Reality, however, is 6 months of Yoga, Hinduism, no drugs. All f them went cold turkey, alcoholics were given no booze and hashish lovers were deprived of joints. Now they tell us it takes around 1 month to “get in touch with oneself” i.e. become content with the fact that proper treatment is a must. And so a few people stay even longer, like our English speaker, whose name’s vanished from my head now. He speaks like guys speak in Aberdeen!
They are insanely polite and different men, what an age and social class and race difference. Yet all are equal in their fight against drugs. This time we played “human knot” and conveyer belt”. The former being too boring and latter – a smashing success. Everyone wanted to have a go on their friends’ hands, unfortunately time was our mentor again. After each session, a bell rings. They say a prayer and leave. So we left as well.
Enough addictions for tonight.
Wednesday 15 September 2010
Hitchhiking and other thoughts
We love hitchhiking in India! Would it be a 1000 colored TATA truck, white Toyota pickup or a three wheeled symbol of the country - Rickshaw. And, don't catch yourself saying Indian auto industry is backward, as TATA owns Jaguar and Daewoo and sell more passenger cars in India than any other company.
Tata buses are our favorite, although a reasonably expansive (20 euro cents per 2 hour trip) alternative. One can see a few uncovered holes in the cockpit, bus driver's say its good for gas convection within the vehicle, for us - another way to break a leg.
Steering wheels are big and clumsy. Pedals are naked aluminium. Each truck, car, rickshaw or motorcycle has a message on its back "Blow Horn" and "Use dipper at night". Overtaking a car without a horn signal - equivalent of provoking a traffic accident in Europe. Thats why majority of buses and truck have their horn signal pads moved away from the steering wheel, straight on the panel, otherwise there would be no time holding the steering wheel, as the urge to "Blow" occurs.
Two days ago we hitchhiked from Kaleyhli orphanage with a Rickshaw pick up. In other words, there was a driver just up the front wheel, and a huge spacious truck behind. The roads were as bumpy as driving on a mine field. Anine was constantly complaining of feeling cold down her bum, yet the problem was resolved at least for me - rickshaw's engine was just below the truck. Honestly, after a 10 km ride in this thing I felt like a beef steak.
Beef steak... My pleasurable life long friend. Why'd You abandon me now?! Throughout the OZ, we'd often say "prisoner 204553, convicted..", and now it's my turn to be convicted on September 1st for entering Indian borders. Sentence - 6months without meat and..without the possibility of parole!
At a time, we could see the most magnificent view: valley, starting with a violent brown and dirty river (overall it looks like Chai!), rising itself upon mountains, whereas thousands of years ago glaciers have formed their walls. The sky was full of stars, and so were mountains - little houses, advantaged with electricity. We couldn't decipher heavens from earth, and that filled my heart with warmth (my bum had already been warm thanks to the engine).
Yesterday, we hitchhiked separately. And surprise surprise, although Anine started the first, I was back as it turned out to be 40 minutes earlier. She stopped a dirty Toyota pick up, with three guys. Could it be even worse? :) Apparently, they let her go by the bridge, which was a few km from our crib - she walked back. Meanwhile, I got a ride with a guy who spent 6 months in total in Norway. He could speak some Norwegian as well.
Listen, nobody happens to know where Lithuania is, hence the word "Russia" appears often in our conversations. However, all of them know Norway. Norway invests, Norway volunteers, Norway charity, Norway good tourists, Norway friends, Norway....
By the end of the day there were two of us, me and the Bronze medal. I can't believe I played cricked on the exactly same time when Lithuania was cruising over Serbia to fetch the World Championship medal!!! Let the basketball Gods forgive me :]
Sunday 12 September 2010
September 11 Anniversary and Kayeli
I can’t believe our friendship is celebrating its first birthday. Unfortunately, we’ll have to wait to blow the candle on a cake until March. I have never felt so sure about my love to Her.
The night before I felt nervous, spent an hour walking those narrow streets of Kullu, until Anine joined me. We went to the West and standing on a bridge saw the sturdy and fuming river.
In Kayeli, we taught some more theatre and initiative exercises. Conveyer belt being the star of the afternoon, yet it was difficult to handle 30 boys. We watched tom&jerry in the end, and.. half of them passed away. So be it, we said, for the next time, prepare yourself for some hardcore theatre action as “save girl child” was coming.
Paramita, a local volunteer and a woman of many talents, got us in her car together with Joy (husband). Their house is cozy and spacious, common postcard from the upper middle class album. Their single daughter was beautiful and young. Their family moved from Kalkuta a year ago, as her husband was assigned a new position in Ferment (he’s responsible for vitamin D3 production).
We talked about women’s position in Indian society and prepared a raw script. A woman is giving birth, she’s surrounded by her family, uncles, grand parents and husband. Baby’s born and that’s a girl, and there comes the reproaches from the family for having a child. Then Grandfather reminds that Lakshmi has come to their house (goddess of prosperity), and Lakshmi appears together with Saraswati (knowledge). They’re both ladies, and as the argument unfolds, the girl child is given a chance to live and study.
Paramita’s family radiated with hospitality and understanding, we wish all the best for them. They also took as home by their car and we ate at our “restaurant”.
Now listen, we didn’t get ripped off J
That evening I watched Kynodontas (dog tooth). The night before – Sunset blvd. I have enough time for everything, but from now on I will concentrate on verbal Hindi, which sounds melodic and colourful.
September 10. Geography and tunnels
Bashing bashing bashing – our pride and head ache. On Friday we gave them a lesson on time: days/months/time prepositions and intended to have some geography for the first time. For me geography is more than a game, hence satisfaction soon to be guaranteed.
Children were phenomenally good at the “time” topic, at least verbally. They would spit out tongue twisting months without any endeavor. Yet, when it came to writing, even the elder ones like Kamlesh,14, or Monika,15. By the time we came across the easy “June and July”, three kings stepped on orphanage threshold. They were men from a huge company which constructs mountain tunnels. They are extremely rich people, and were carrying sweets, cookies with butter, potato chips. They gave this food to each of them, and for the first time I saw two things: firstly, our children so calm and submissive, secondly, charity as it happened.
I raised many doubts in my head, why would they bring sweets and potato chips to the kids, and ask them to eat it instantaneously. Truly, kids do not have sweets on regular basis their diet consists of dal (beans), chapattis (bread), pulav (rice), sabji (vegetable curry).
Guests were interested in Anine a lot, for two reasons. She was a woman to begin with, and blonde as well. No explanations needed, kids were disturbed by the amount of food. I call it “being high n sugar”, so they became extrememly energetic and agile. We had to play some old school violent games like red rover or cat&mouse. Games are rough (you know boys), tears are common.
Afterwards, we showed them a world political map. Surprise, they couldn’t tell us where India was. They couldn’t tell us Russia, nor the US, nor China. It was their first but definitely not the last one encounter with maps. Now it’s clear, that in their public there is little initiative to teach global awareness. Conversely, ne could argue that the whole country is generally bad at geography. Even when meeting some elder men of pristine reputation I feel awry once statements like “I believe German similar to French” or “knowing that Britain has a land border with Europe, how do they unknot the right-left traffic difference once driving from Spain to Bitain?”. ;D I could collect more quotes of similar relevance, but time is sparse. In the end, we still have a lot of things to teach them about European continent, whereas India is too much a “continent of its own” at the moment.
Das (tunnel company man) invited us for a dinner on Sunday.
Next time we’ll bring two maps t Bashing, and our evening was spent planning for “Save girl child India” skit.
Friday 10 September 2010
September 9
Throughout the last few days we kept on working with Bashing, established contacts with Grady (a guy who’s bringing bicycles from the US) and previous volunteers. Yet, I felt like I’d left my soul in the fridge.
At Bashing kids were too distracted and preoccupied to learn, so we played cricket. I’ve never done it before, and surely never play this game again. It’s tedious to say the least, and for the most of time only two people engage into it. Snobbish piece of heritage from those times, I thought. Conversely, Basketball, is one of the coolest and least snobbish games ever. It’s as athletic as a sport can get. I wonder how’s Lithuania performed yesterday against Argentina.
On Thursday we had to visit drug de-addiction centre and Kayeli orphanage. We went to the central bus station which resembles a colorful masquerade and asked one of the drivers for Jhiri. As it turned out we were being taken to Ghiri which is 2 hours drive from Kullu. Sad. After being ridiculously late for the centre, we opted to come back to Kayeli on time.
A cute pickup stopped for us, there were 8 kids inside, and two funny smiling guys in front. They showed some zig zags when asked whether they went to Kullu. As gullible as we are, instead of going to Kullu, we went to the…skies. The pick-up was driving kids who live n a hug mountain back from school. We spent 1 hour elevating ourselves through serpentines. God, these panoramas are astonishing. And roads are narrow enough to sparkle frightful hallucinations about us rolling down the road. I’ll ask Anine for some pics, that we’ve taken that day.
I always wondered what brings people so high up the mountains. Here you have a powerful river and a patch of fertile land by your neighborhood, and yet, you ascend further. Some of those girls in the truck were astoundingly pretty, like gemstones on a crown of mountains.
So we went to Kayeli and met them kids. Compared to Bashing where anarchy is their bread, Kayelis were modest and well behaved. A married old couple is running this place, and believe it or not – they run it smooth. This Saturday we’ll start planning our skit for Save the girl child and for now we played some bonding games.
Guys liked it in general, yet the elder ones were slightly bored. I raised my voice a lot. And they would listen. I like it.
Once back in Kullu, we were ripped off. At the fruit stand, at restaurant, at staples shop. We felt sad. Last day we paid 35 Rs for two half plates of “lady fingers” and Dal, and now it inflated to 60Rs. Kindly asked, assistant gave us a discount to 55 Rs. Equality and patience, next time we’ll say “Sahi sahi ret lagama” – “Tell me the real price”! I can’t believe that Lithuania, although being at the back foot of Europe is still cheaper than India ;D
One week in Kullu, and life is turning mundane, except the daily activities with children.
Yesterday, I did the garbage the first time. Instructions go like this:
1. 1. Take the trash
2. 2. Go a few quartiles away
3. 3. Look out for cows.
4. 4. Feed the garbage to them. ;D
Tuesday 7 September 2010
September 6
I woke up at 4am and felt like my stomach was having a rollercoaster ride. I flipped my body over and the uneasy feeling stopped.
Once I woke up at 7.30 and took a shower, I tried to wake Anine as well.
But she had absolutely serious problems. I didn't feel well either. So I
went to the prayer alone.
There he was the school priest, dressed in white bearing a red spot on his forehead. He started by cleaning his body: mouth, hands and ears. So did
I. There was a really old man next to the fireplace as well. throughout
the ceremony he would sing holly mantras and pour a mix of spices into the fire. The procedure was overwhelming, yet, I couldn't read Sanskrit nor
sing that well.
Afterwards, he gave me a handful of sweet rice, God's food.
At 10 we were supposed to represent our mission in the very same school.
no previous volunteers have ever worked there, hence it should have been
an ice-breaking experience.
Once again, Anine was feeling sick, but I didn't want to postpone it.
Afterwards, I would only have to represent our countries, and I knew
Norway quite well.
And here I was, standing in front of a 150 uniformed students crowd. They
finished a drum march and headmaster told them an inspiring speech. The
Indian national anthem has begun but by then Modestas was rather melting,
I felt my soul and consciousness leaving the body. It was too late to
retreat, but I told the headmaster I felt sick. He responded angrily:
"Please!", apparently the anthem was more important. Sickness took an upper hand and I grabbed my backpack and rushed down the stairs. My sight
narrowed and went green. I started stumbling over my feet and wonder how
could I have reached my bed. I collapsed in it and did not move for at
least an hour.
Me and Anine were down to nothing, we could barely afford wasting energy on speaking and agreed to sleep, drink water, and wait for Ankit to come from work, so we could call him in and ask for help. We called him at 1500, and were asked to wait for the evening.
Then Panki came with a doctor and he told us to rest and drink water and
some Oral rehydratation salts. So I wrapped myself into the bed cover
sweated a lot and fught that stomach infection ;D
No sooner than 2000 I felt better, jumped into thermies and got some
fruits from a shop. Later, called the Love of my live and never felt that
happy to have somebody loving me so much!
All in all, we spent the whole day in our beds and will have to catch up
with the project.
September 5
We had an honour to participate in Ankit grandfather’s funeral ceremony. We came over at 12, being slightly late, because the ceremony has apparently began. After a few minutes of hesitation we came inside and sat in the corner. After a moment Ankit moved us towards the door of a room, as it turned out later, where the body was placed!
Chaivala served us the most amazing beverage ever, it tasted like a mix of rosewater, salt, sugar, pepper and stardust.
Ankit's father was crowned as a new leader/king of their tribe, so Ankit
had to carry around a white shawl which was touched by every person in the ceremony. By doing so, family members accepted him as a new leader.
Another interesting fact, majority of family lived in Kullu, though it had more that a 1000 members. People are really family bonded in this part of
India.
Finally, the long awaited lunch followed. We washed our hands and were
taken to a huge room decorated with yellow and red shawls. In the front of the chamber men were sited, women - next to the entrance. We sat with
women. Actually, there were no chairs, nor dishes or tools. All we had
were three-leaves-well-sewn-together and a mat below our bums.
There were 2 people serving all guests. Firstly, they would pour rice on
our leaves with their hands. Then some tasty vegetable/bean/potato mix
would follow. Now, I would mix rice and hot meal together with my right
hand and put it on my first three fingers whilst letting the thumb thrust
it into my mouth. God, we had so much fun! Food was tasty:) In total, I
had no less than 6 "updates" to my "plate" and was the last person to
leave!
Having eaten so much, we met a headmaster of a school adjacent to Ankit's
house. He promised to check if Bashing orphanage has enough school tools.
Also, the school priest gave us Sandhaya- Agnihotra book, with holy Vedas
and mantras. He kindly invited us to come tomorrow morning for a prayer.
We didn't do much for the rest of that day.
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