Last night we were treated to our first pre-monsoon rain and it was an occasion for celebration! The heat in Manipal has been steadily rising, rising to a level that is almost unbearable. Days are spent hopping from air-conditioned room to air-conditioned room. Moments spent outside are minimal and unpleasant and in between those air-conditioned rooms, umbrellas are almost a necessity to protect from the fierce rays of the sun. Stepping outside is like stepping into an oven crossed with a humidifier. It’s a level of constant heat that I have never experienced before. Many people talk about the affect of weather on mood, but often this is in reference to cold weather –the dreary, gray winter days that seem to extend far too long. And I totally get that. I love the sun! But the affect of aggressive heat almost never holds a place in the conversation; a place I never even considered should exist. I feel lucky to have essentially missed winter in the US this year. My days have almost exclusively been full of sun, and for that I am grateful. But I am not going to lie, it is really challenging to be in a place where going outside is dreaded; where it is constantly necessary to fan yourself to avoid overheating; where the conversation starter is always how hot it is getting; where your energy levels are considerably lower than normal from the constant heat fatigue even on days spent almost exclusively inside. I never fathomed how much the weather would impact my daily activities, especially warm weather! But I miss enjoying being outside. Adapting to this different climate has been one of the most difficult adjustments for me in India thus far and one of the most difficult things to communicate as being a challenge. But today we were lucky. Last night was the first rain of the season. The loud cracks of thunder in the night woke me from my sleep and I could hear the heavy patter of rain on the pavement outside my window. At the time it seemed like only a fantasy. But in the morning, when the roads were still dark from the moisture; the sidewalks had turned to red, runny mud; and the air felt cool and crisp, I knew it wasn’t a dream. While the cool temperatures didn’t last long, it was just enough to be rejuvenating. It was enough to spark a hope that there would be more pre-monsoon rains and that maybe there would be an off chance the monsoon would come early this year.
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Hampi is the grand, elaborate site of the last capital of the last great Hindu Kingdom of Vijayanagar. Its fabulously rich princes built incredible and expansive temples and palaces that were frequently visited and admired by travellers and traders between the 14th and 16th centuries. Conquered in a Muslim invasion in 1565, the city was pillaged, temples were destroyed, and eventually it was abandoned. Today Hampi is primarily ruins. Once a capital of an empire that housed over 500,000 people, Hampi has been left to a few remaining townspeople, mostly operating guesthouses and catering to the pilgrims and tourists. However most of the temples are only admired, as Hindu’s do not worship idols that have been broken. Hampi’s spectacular setting is dominated by craggy hill ranges with incredible boulder outcroppings, open plains with patches of intense greenery and palm trees, a river that runs through the city, and widespread physical remains. The sophistication of the varied urban, royal and sacred systems is evident from the more than 1600 surviving remains that include forts, riverside features, royal and sacred complexes, temples, shrines, pillared halls, memorial structures, gateways, defense check posts, stables, water structures, etc. some of which have only been discovered by archeologists in the past 30 years. We spent the past independent travel weekend bearing the 105-degree weather to explore the ruins and learn more about Hampi’s incredible and unique history. On the first day, following a very rough overnight bus ride, we climbed hundreds of steps in the height of the day to the Hanuman (the monkey god) temple, perched on a giant mountainous boulder overlooking the most picturesque landscape. Beautifully green palm trees and fields interspersed with rock outcroppings made for an incredible view. Giant ruins became specks in the distance. We were on the top of the world. Looking down, we could see the winding path that leading back to the bottom of the mountain. The temple’s simple white washed dome with a colorful point reminded me of Buddhist temples in Tibetan communities. This was the first Hanuman temple we have encountered in India and was a great first one to see as Hampi is said to actually be the birthplace of Lord Hanuman. It was fitting as monkeys clambered around the rocks, jumping from one to another, drinking from a pool left in one of the crevices. We wandered through the town stumbling upon an ancient bazaar, now just rows of pillars. We later learned this used to be where spices, gold, diamonds, cloths, etc. were traded to travelers journeying from the other side of the world. We wandered among the pillars, the lowering sun casting a golden glow on the rocks. On the other side of a hill a grand, abandoned temple lay nestled between rocks and luscious palm trees. It was eerie wandering through its rooms as the sun lowered further in the sky, no one else around, with only nature sounds wafting through the air. We sat in peace and watched as the sun set over the great pyramid temple, perched on a boulder high above the ground. In the morning we signed up for a guided bike tour through the heart of Hampi. We met travelers from Germany and the Netherlands also along for the journey. Our guide took us around the main sites in Hampi, explaining important details and history. Without him, another statue may have been just that – another statue. But his commentary made the stones come to life. I tried to imagine what this place would have been like hundreds of years ago, at the height of the empire, a bustling metropolis, compared by some to ancient Greece and Rome. We visited temples that had been buried over the years, only recently discovered by archeologists, and the grand palace of Hampi’s rulers. We stood up high on the festival platform, looking out at what was now only the base of different walls and rooms. We spent the rest of the day with our new friends setting out to find the famed Vittala temple wandering along the winding river. Once we found it we spent the next few hours chatting, perched high above the temple, looking within its walls, the Hanuman temple visible across the river. That evening it was back on the bus to Manipal, all of us exhausted from a hot and tiring, but well spent, weekend. We woke up early to catch the elephants at their bath and breakfast at a nearby sanctuary. Just after pulling off the road we noticed elephants bathing in the river below. One beautiful lady lay flat on its side as her caretaker scrubbed her belly, legs, and back. Another waded in the deeper part of the water, unattended, swinging his trunk back and forth in the stream, occasionally opening his mouth in what looked like a huge grin. I enjoyed watching them – they all looked so happy. We headed over to the feeding center where we watched the caretakers mash up cubes of food into giant balls that they placed into the elephants’ mouths. The elephants waited anxiously during the preparation process, swaying back and forth, shifting their weight, and swinging their trunks, clearly ready for their breakfast. Once the food was ready the caretakers essentially shoved the giant balls of food down the elephants’ throats. It was a pretty entertaining site and you could tell the elephants just loved it. Most of them seemed to swallow it whole but one of them grabbed the ball out of her mouth with her trunk and gracefully fed the rest to her piece by piece. After the mornings activities we drove back into Mysore for lunch before visiting the Mysore palace. I’ve been told that the palace gets more annual visitors than the Taj Mahal. I haven’t yet been to the Taj so I’m not sure if I can say I see why, but the palace was pretty spectacular. We were lucky to get a great guide who took us through much of the history of the Maharaja (king of kings) of Mysore, the construction of the palace, its elements, stories, etc. While the outside alone was incredible, the interior was all the more amazing. Intricate designs in beautiful colors covered its surface, pillars were painted from pure gold, gold and silver adornments with elaborate details were found throughout, smooth and cool marble covered the floors, and fantastic murals depicting everything from elephant festivals to the amazing wars with the British lined the walls. We saw the wedding hall, the public and private conference halls, the Maharaja’s dressing rooms, etc. Unfortunately photos weren’t allowed and I could only capture its elegance in my mind’s eye. Following the tour we wandered the grounds, snapping pictures of the outside when we happened upon elephants giving rides to visitors. While I am generally opposed to this use of elephants, I figured I had to ride an elephant at least once in my life and what better opportunity than at this fabulous palace and where I knew they were at least treated better than at other places in the country. I felt a little guilty the whole ride but couldn’t help but enjoy the sheer joy of being so close to such a beautiful creature and feeling its gentle sway below me as it walked. After hopping off, I handed her a 10-rupee note, which she took with its trunk, handing it up to the handler. She placed its trunk on my head, breathing in and pulling some of my hair up with it. I stroked her trunk gently until she pulled away. Probably the best 10 seconds of my life. It was pure elation and happiness. We walked over to a nearby market where shop owners sold produce, spices, colored powders, perfumes, oils, incenses, plastic wear, etc. The aisles were narrow and stalls close together. Noise gathered as shop owners shouted “bananas! Bananas! 5 rupees! 5 rupees!” and people bustled through the corridors, pushing past one another. We wandered the packed halls, smiling at shop owners as we passed, mostly nodding off their requests for us to look at (and buy) their things. We did pause briefly for a man to demonstrate how to paint using the colored powders, using a bright pink to draw what sort of looked like a flower on the back of my hand. We continued strolling until we reached a man selling different scented oils and incense. He rolled some watermelon flower oil on the back of my wrist and I was hooked – the smell was delicious. We chatted with him, learning about his business. His grandfather had established the shop and it had been in the family ever since. He let us smell all the different oils and even showed us how to hand roll incense. I ended up buying a few small bottles of perfumed oil. A chai walla walked past the stall and the shopkeeper treated us all to chai. He also gave us all free sticks of incense, even to people who hadn’t even bought anything from him. He insisted it was a gift. He was such a sweet soul and I really enjoyed talking to him and was sad when our hour was up and we had to meet back up with the group. We went back to the palace that night to see it lit up in beautiful bulbs of white light. Every Sunday for only 45 minutes, the entire palace is lit up with thousands of individual lights creating a completely different ambiance and image from what we had seen just an hour or so before. It could have been a castle straight out of a fairy tale. It was breathtaking and just completely magical. People admired the site, some up close to the fence, others relaxing on the grass, gazing up at its magnificent radiance. I learned a lot about my camera in those few moments as I tried to find a good way to capture it. While I never really could, I think I was surprisingly successful. What seemed like only moments later, the lights went out and long shadows cast over the palace. We ate a late dinner at an organic restaurant in a neighborhood of Mysore where all the yoga teachers and practitioners stay. After a satisfying meal I flipped through their photography books as others used the restaurants free Wi-Fi. We stayed just up until closing before shifting to a nearby coffee shop, passing time until our train left late that night, until we would be back in Manipal. Back to reality (well, only sort of). Most of the day was spent driving. All the over-exertion and sickness was catching up to me, so this was the perfect opportunity to sleep and rejuvenate. I probably slept all but 30 minutes of the 5-6 hour drive, despite having a great night sleep the previous night. We made a few stops along the way one of which was to a summer palace of a Muslim king, Tipu Sultan, built in the 1700’s. Tipu Sultan’s kingdom was the last to fall to British colonialism after having defeated the British army numerous times. The grounds were beautiful and filled with lush grass and colorful flowers. Inside the palace, detailed paintings lined every surface: some depicting historical wars with the British, while others were just intricate patterns. The palace had been converted to a museum and we admired the old silk clothes, swords, portraits, etc. that filled its interior. Our next stop was to the burial place of Tipu Sultan and his family. A large white dome, resembling the architecture of the Taj Mahal, with ornate carvings covered his tomb. A guide latched onto us and told us some facts about the place and Tipu before demanding to be paid for his services repeating, “Madam, I’d like something” and stretching out his hand. Of course we paid him, but laughed at his bluntness. After another stop for lunch in Mysore and more hours on the road, we reached our guesthouse called Secret Ivory. The name sounded like it was part of a poaching society, but was actually just the opposite. It was perched on the border of a wildlife sanctuary and tiger reserve. Immediately after dropping our things in our rooms; we loaded into two jeeps for an evening safari through the reserve. We were pretty much guaranteed not to see a tiger, but we ended up being pretty unlucky with seeing anything else either. We spotted a rabbit, rat, rooster, and some bison - nothing particularly noteworthy. The sunset, however, was incredible, as they all seem to be here. The sun transformed into a perfectly round tangerine colored orb that became more brilliant in color as it ducked behind the trees, lighting up the jeep behind us - the perfect safari sunset. The darkness of night quickly enveloped us once the sun had set and soon everything was cloaked in black.
I think our guide felt a little guilty that we didn’t see anything so we continued to roam around listening for sounds or glimpses of anything in the headlights. At one point he pulled off the road, switching off the engine, and glided along until we heard something in the bushes. It was an elephant just beyond the trees. While we never saw it we heard it crushing branches as its trunk ripped them from their trees and every once and a while we could hear its deep breathing. It was such a peaceful moment, only disrupted by the occasional car and truck passing by. After listening for about twenty minutes, we restarted the engine and five minutes later happened upon a family of elephants, including a baby, in a clearing just off the side of the road. We watched them in silence through the beam of the headlight until we had attracted a crowd and decided to head back. Along the way we also spotted a wild boar. So the safari was a success after all. We were served a large buffet of Indian food for dinner. A group of us lingered after eating, watching a group from Bangalore badly sing songs around a campfire. We played phase 10, eventually just making up our own rules and phases until one by one people dropped off and headed to bed. Our train pulled into the Bangalore city station around 5:45am and we were met by a driver who took us to our hotel in the city. It was really conveniently located right downtown, in the shopping district. Our rooms weren’t ready yet so we dropped our things and headed out in search of breakfast. There was a Krispy Kream and Starbucks located just steps away, much to everyone’s delight, but they didn’t open until later so we picked a restaurant a few blocks away instead. My order of French toast came out in giant fluffy cut pieces of bread with a sweet syrup. Others’ omletts looked equally as good. Following breakfast Claire, Lauren, and I went to check out the Krispy Kream situation and I immediately regretted my large, sweet breakfast. But disregarding that, we ordered a dozen donuts (four each), justifying it with the 12-pack savings we got. We hung out in the shop a while, the only ones there, as Claire and Lauren used Wi-Fi. When we left the Starbucks still wasn’t open yet, but we vowed to come back in the afternoon. We met up with Katie Jo and the group for a visit to a development program in a local slum community. The program we learned about seemed really interesting. Part of it involves employing local women to make purses and crafts out of old juice cartons and scarp materials and other parts focus on education for children. We dodged a steam of water flowing between houses as we wove through small alleyways to reach the building where the women produce their products. We spoke to them briefly and sifted through the storeroom, some people buying things, before heading back. Overall the meeting was interesting but not particularly substantive and seemed to almost border slum tourism. Not at all to the extend slum tourism is a thing in Kenya, but still seemed like parading foreigners through a poor community. It was a stark reminder of the glaring income inequality that exists in India, though. From high-end stores and malls, Starbucks and Krispy Kream, to a neighborhood without running water, garbage system, small homes, etc. all within a 15-minute difference from one another. We ate lunch at a Chinese/Thai restaurant and I had the best chicken momos (Tibetan dumplings). I can’t believe it has taken me this long to order momos, but it was worth the wait. After lunch we had the afternoon and evening free so we got our Starbucks fix before meeting up with a recent Manipal grad, the daughter of the women we took cooking lessons from in one of our first weeks in India. She took us to Commercial Street, a huge street lined with shops and vendors selling jewelry, saris, kurtas, bangles, and so much more. We only stayed a short while before heading back to the hotel for a quick nap and to get ready for the evening. Claire, Lauren, and I took an auto to a nearby mall called UB City, recommended to us by a few people, especially for good food. The mall was over-the-top fancy. It looked like it could have been a palace from the inside. We chose a French restaurant called Café Noir, also from a recommendation. We enjoyed the cool Bangalore breeze on the patio as we at the most incredible food. I got Mediterranean spaghetti that almost melted in my mouth. After dinner we wandered the mall, but there wasn’t much to see so we headed out to walk along the streets until we happened upon a Swiss Ice Cream shop. None of us ended up ordering anything but the samples were great! Exhausted and still sick I headed back to the room to shower and head to bed as others went out to find Wi-Fi and coffee for the next morning’s drive. After finishing up with the doctor, I joined Lauren, Claire, and Katie Jo at a Tanjore Temple near Swamimalai. The place was incredible. It was much like any other temple but grander in stature and the stone carvings were painted in brilliant colors. An elephant stood near the entrance giving blessings to visitors, but by the time I had finished my lap around the complex, it was gone. Once we had gathered the rest of the group and eaten lunch, we drove to Tanjore itself to visit India’s largest and tallest temple built primarily by kings in the 10th and 11th centuries. Huge outer walls contained the enormous temple in the center. A guide explained (sort of) the temple’s history and some of the artwork. The top of the temple was constructed with one giant piece of stone weighing many tons. Supposedly a ramp 6km long was built from dirt leading up to the top of the structure and elephants dragged the piece of stone to its place at the very top. We wandered the complex as we waited for the temple inside to open. We met families on pilgrimage who had shaved their heads to give offerings to Shiva. We glanced at the Shiva lingam once the temple had opened but avoided the pushing, shoving, and line and headed out instead. We visited a small veena workshop where traditional Tanjore musical instruments are made. The craftsmen were eager to let us try and smiled when we had no idea what we were doing. Afterwards, we drove thirty minutes or so outside of town to a business school where we met with a group of MBA students. The conversation with the student I was paired with was nice but slightly awkward and forced at the same time. We had trouble connecting over similar things as he kept asking me about my favorite cricketer, wrestling, Bollywood hero’s, etc. I asked about his major, interests, goals for after school, family, etc. but had a hard time getting his answers as he talked really quickly and quietly. I conversation was quick though and we sped back to Tanjore, almost missing our train. We made it with about five minutes to spare and a friend of Katie Jo’s dropped off some dosas and parotas for us to eat for dinner. I wasn’t too hungry so I nibbled on a parota, relaxed, and headed to bed early, exhausted. Throughout much of the day following the banana leaf lunch I had noticed an ache in my throat. Shrugging it off and grabbing some herbal cough drops from the med kit, I didn’t think much of it. As the day turned to evening and evening to night whatever was plaguing me had progressed. My throat was so swollen it was noticeably more challenging to breath. As we sat through the dance performance, I tried not to swallow – each time I did I felt it growing tighter and my body panicking in response. I took a Benadryl, hoping that would quell the swelling, especially if I was having an allergic reaction to something. I managed to fall asleep that night but around midnight, I woke up to my body’s panicky reaction to my laborious breathing and tightening airways. Had I been in the US at this time, or even in Manipal, I probably would have gone to the doctor, despite my general avoidance of going to doctors for illnesses. But being in India, in a relatively small village in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, that wasn’t really an option.
I crept out of my room, careful to not wake my roommates, heading outside to see if coughing would help clear my airways. It didn’t really and I mostly worried about disturbing people. I wandered back in and out of the room, panic growing greater. I would have been fine if my condition stayed the same, but what if it worsened? What if my throat closed up all the way? What then? Where would I go? Was there somewhere to go? I had no way of knowing what was going on and what was going to happen. I took a hot shower hoping the steam would loosen it up a bit and when that also failed I ended up waking up Katie Jo. She gave me a strong anti-histamine from the med kit, which would hopefully help if it was an allergic reaction. I had no idea what an allergic reaction was like, having never had one before. The medicine ended up not helping, but it was enough to calm my nerves enough to fall back asleep. In the morning, it was no better, but I felt calmer knowing people were awake and there were more options to get help should that be necessary. I ended up finding a hospital in town, which I went to as some of the group visited temples or relaxed at the hotel. I asked for the ENT specialist that I heard worked at the hospital, but they told me he wouldn’t be available until six pm, just as our train that night was supposed to leave. I told them it was an emergency so they directed me to the casualty ward. This would be my second visit to a casualty ward in my time in India so far. Nurses immediately began taking my blood pressure and temperature. I tried my best to explain my symptoms, mostly getting blank stares in return. The doctor came but never examined my throat, or anything for that matter. He asked me my name, age, if I felt nauseous, if I had body aches, and that was just about it. He wrote me a prescription for four unknown drugs and sent me on my way. Feeling no more confident in the situation I filled the prescriptions, unsure of what else I could do. There were points throughout the day I just wanted to cry as I devoted all my energy to making sure I could breathe and my tight throat dominated my thoughts, but couldn’t, for fear that would just make it worse. I took the drugs, not really sure what they were, but hoping they would help. By night the tightness had given way to intense coughing. The type I get when I have bronchitis or pneumonia. Paradoxically, this was comforting. I knew what having a bad cough was like and I was not worried anymore that I wouldn’t be able to breathe. I fell asleep early and by the following morning my throat was much better and all I had to worry about was the cough. I had no complaints though, knowing everything was going to be okay. I was really lucky. More than a week later, I’m still coughing, but it is slowly getting less frequent and less severe. Despite all of this, I made sure to power through and join the group for every visit and activity not wanting to miss out on any opportunities, not knowing if they’d ever come again. As a public health student, studying distribution of and access to health services, I felt a little ashamed it took my own health to realize what this fully meant. It is sometimes too easy to forget the individual humanity behind the statistics we study in classes. Understanding what it meant to not have access to the care I needed when I needed it opened my eyes in a new way to healthcare in India and around the world. Sometimes these perspective changes are exactly what we need to be reminded about why what we are doing is important, why it is necessary. We woke up early after a restful night’s sleep to join Katie Jo for some morning temple tours before the day’s official program began. I’ve been making sure to take advantage of every optional trip and activity in order to soak in as much as possible and experience all I can. We ended up only seeing one temple since the driver claimed there was too much traffic to make it to the others, but the one we did see was absolutely incredible. It was built during the Chola period, around the 11th century and is unique in that it is still actively used today. It was practically empty, though, save for a few young boys asking for pens, a women resting near the gate, and a priest at the Shiva Lingum inside the temple. The temple complex was huge and the temple itself grand both in stature and beauty. The intricate carvings on the pillars and the walls reminded me of the style at Angkor Watt in Cambodia. We marveled at its beauty and as I wandered among pillars and up staircases, I traced my fingers over the ancient granite. The priest led us in a Shiva chant and gave us powder for our foreheads. We had some time to spare before meeting up with the rest for the days activities, so I wandered the hotel, admiring its style and artifacts. Later, we drove to a neighboring village to learn about Kalamkari, a traditional painting style done on cloth. The Kalamkari house was established as a collective to employ local women and to revive a once dying craft. When we arrived, the owners of the Kalamkari house had invited one of India’s most renowned temple and wedding musicians to play for us. The band played a variety of traditional songs, many of them Tamil. We were lucky and honored to be treated to such an experience. Once the musicians had left, off to play at some large festival in Chennai, the Kalamkari artisans displayed some of their work for us. It was absolutely exquisite. The traditional designs were intriguing and the colors popped off the fabric. The women were so kind and welcoming and though they didn’t speak much English, if any, they stuck to our sides grinning and giggling as we went for a walk and visited their local church. We were invited in to one woman’s home. It was clear she had not warned her family we would be coming (her father didn’t even have pants on when we arrived), but they were so hospitable, especially on such short notice. Leaving our shoes at the door, we stepped inside their moistest home, all crowding into their main room. We sat in silence for a while as they stared at us smiling. It reminded me of rural week in Kenya, where people would parade you into their homes and have you sit there for a while, not really talking, just glad you were there, happy to show off their homes. While we sat inside, the father and another local man had collected a bunch of coconuts, which they cracked open for us to drink. The water was refreshing, despite not really having an affinity for it. Earlier in the morning we were also given raw coconuts at the hotel, where Steve, the owner, showed us how to drink them in the traditional way without straws, using thick piece of palm leaf instead. But here we used straws. Once we had drained the juice, the coconut was split in half, a spoon created from the shell, and the raw coconut could be scooped out and eaten. The texture was awful, but the taste wasn’t too bad. Though we didn’t share a common language and were only just strangers, the hospitality and kindness shown to us was unmatched. It just served as another reminder of the wonderful aspects of humanity and why I love to explore and have the opportunity to meet people like this. It was also a wonderful glimpse into their lives, a way of living so different from our own. We took a walk up a dried up river, children from the village following us for a ways until we reached the Kalamkari house once again. We were served a huge banana leaf lunch cooked by the women with at least six different kinds of rice amongst other things. The food was great, though I struggled to finish it all. After thanking the women and our hosts for the incredible morning, we jumped back into the bus for our next adventure to a bronze-casting workshop. At the bronze-casting workshop we were able to witness all the steps of bronze sculpture making. It begins with the creation of an incredibly detailed wax figure, then covering with clay, pouring molten metal into the clay, which melts the wax and creates the sculpture in its place. The clay-coated figure is left to cool for several days at which time the clay is cracked off. Extra details are added to the metal and it is polished. All of this was being done at the workshop we visited and we were able to see the process in every stage and talk with some of the artisans, who shared a cup of chai with us. Back at the hotel we took a ride on an old bullock cart pulled by two oxen. This was a perfect example of India as a living museum, a concept introduced to us in our Contemporary India class. This concept explained how many things, though ancient, are still used and put in practice rather than being stored in a museum, as they would be in many other countries in the world. In parts of India, it is not uncommon to see ox pulled carts carrying loads of sand or other materials. We toured around the neighborhood of the village where children and families gathered at their doorsteps to watch us pass some children running after us asking for pens. The oxen moved slowly and the cart swayed rhythmically to their steps as it bumped down the semi-paved roads. The sun was just lowering in the sky and the atmosphere was peaceful. The ride was short and only ten or so minutes later we were back at the hotel. We met Steve back at the hotel for a personal tour of the property and of all the museum items. While Steve was relatively pretentious and self-gloating, it was easy to look past it in order to learn about some of the amazing things he had collected. He explained so many interesting facets of Indian history, art and culture, and had an incredible collection he had put together over the years. Each room in the hotel was unique, adorned with historic art pieces, furniture, etc. and each had its own character. In the center of one of the main buildings, an old Tanjore house, were all the incredible artifacts. It is so apparent that India has some of the richest and most incredible history and culture. It really is a shame how much of it is lost to students studying in the Western world. It was also clear what an impact colonial rule had on the country. There was a quote in the hotel restaurant that noted how prosperous and thriving India and Indians were and that in order to conquer the nation, the people and systems most be broken. People must believe what is foreign is better and only then will they fall to colonial rule. Kind of a horrifying thought if you think about it… Following the tour we were treated to a Bharatanatyam performance. The performer was absolutely incredible, and now, after having tried the art once, I realized just how hard it is and could appreciate it so much more. Her movements were effortless and her face so emotive it told a story. Our next destination took us to Tribal Health Initiative, a health and development initiative located in the midst of tribal villages a five-hour drive away from Auroville. Tribal people are India’s original inhabitants. Their ancestors were thought to have been part of the Indus Valley Civilization 5,000 years ago. It is believed they were been pushed south, into their current locations, with later Aryan invasions. Today, they are marginalized much like native populations around the world, many living in rural areas in dire poverty. While the government has special programs designed to address the tribal populations, they have generally been met with minimal success. We got started on our journey late and ended up doing most of it in the dark, but from what I could make out of the landscape was beautiful. I was excited to see it in the daylight. At one point in the drive, the road appeared to end as a river blocked our path. Our driver seemed to think it was going to be impossible to keep going until a motorbike crossed and informed us just how shallow it was and could easily be crossed. At least that’s what the conversation sounded like, since it was all in Tamil. When we finally arrived, it was late. We ate a quick meal at the hospital before finding our accommodations in a guesthouse just a kilometer away. Lauren and I woke up early to the sound of tapping on the roof and the sudden whirring of the fan. Realizing it wasn’t even 7:00 yet; we decided to go for a walk through the village. The sun was just peeking up above the treetops, highlighting the haze in the sky and illuminating the beautiful hills, palm trees, and farmland. As we wandered we passed by mud houses with thatched roofs and other homes that were taller and mad of concrete. Women were already at work. Children cried, laughed, and ran around their compounds. Passerby’s gazes lingered over us. The air was cool and crisp, never fully giving way to heat, even at the height of the day. I longed to know more about the tribals: their community, their history, practices, work. At Tribal Health Initiative (THI) we ate a filling breakfast amongst the staff, learning bits and pieces about their work. Afterwards we joined them for morning meditation and the celebration of one of their children’s birthdays. The founder of the organization sat with us and guided us along his journey to founding THI, its growth, its multi-pronged approach, and goals for the future. His and the entire staffs mission and dedication was inspiring. I also appreciated their desire to provide culturally appropriate care to the community, a concept that is far to often forgotten. I only wished I had medical experience so I could come back and contribute. I contemplated other ways in which I could be useful to them.
We next heard a talk about how THI is getting women’s collectives together to revive their ancient embroidery craft. The program also allows women a new level of freedom and independence that comes with making their own money. We learned that THI also works with farmers in the area to help them transition to organic farming and helps them reach markets through a commodity chain process whereby they sell their goods to women’s groups who develop the raw materials into a product for sale in the greater community. It was so cool to see how the THI connects health with healthy food and farming, women’s empowerment, and so much more to address health in a unique and holistic manner. A way that really understands how all the component parts of life combine to form determinants of health, a method of public health I am particularly interested in. After our daily dose of inspiration and the opportunity to purchase some items from the women’s embroidery collective, we piled back into the van for our next five hour journey to Swamimalai, where we were warmly welcomed at our hotel that doubles as a museum of Indian culture and heritage, with flower garlands and cool towels and time for relaxation before our next busy day. Auroville is an experimental township nearby Pondicherry. It was founded by “the Mother” who was a spiritual collaborator with Sri Aurobindo, the founder of the ashram we visited in Pondicherry. Auroville is meant to be a universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities. The purpose of Auroville is to realize human unity. Mother expected that this experimental "universal township" would contribute significantly in the progress of humanity towards its splendid future by bringing together people of goodwill and aspiration for a better world. In Auroville we met with a woman named Lisa who, though German in heritage, was born and raised in Auroville. She talked to us about the history of the township and how she understands and experiences Auroville. We visited a school based on Aurovillian philosophies for local village children. They explained their unique approach to education, which was very child based, rather than curriculum based. Emphasis was placed on fostering holistic childhood development and to teach children how to learn rather than what to learn. That seemed to manifest itself in a particularly artistic mode of education, where creativity is at the forefront. We were also able to meet with another Aurovillian originally from Australia who started a cloth pad and menstrual hygiene project called “EcoFemme.” What started as a project born from environmental concern unwove a web of development and social justice concerns regarding menstrual hygiene and health for rural women in India. Her talk was raw and inspiring. She explained the entire evolution of her project from beginning to end. She has done incredible research on the topic in the community uncovering unique findings and developing innovative solutions in response. It was definitely one of my favorite parts of the week thus far. Before leaving we visited the center of the city, a giant golden globe structure, meant for meditation and spiritual practice. While outsiders were not allowed inside, it was breathtaking enough from a distance. |
AuthorAmerican University Student studying abroad in Kenya and India and wandering the world Archives
May 2015
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