Laying the Groundwork

Goutam-ji says: “Since India is a country of oral tradition, I always give you examples. I will give you an example now:

There were the gods, and there were the demons, and there was Shiva. The demons asked Shiva, 'The gods are the good, and we are the evil. How is it that you can tell us apart?' Shiva then fixed the arms of all the gods and the demons so that they would not bend. Then he put food in their hands and said, 'Now eat.' The demons started trying to eat in vain from their own hands. The gods started feeding each other. 'While you try to take care of only yourself, the good take care of each other and take responsibility for each other. That is how I tell you apart,' said Shiva.”

Goutam-ji (pronounced Gotham, like Batman) is a Hindi teacher and Jack-of-all trades for SIT Delhi. Goutam can be a jokester, but he is great with logistics and knows how to help a gaggle of clueless American graduate students make sense of India, especially by helping them laugh and smile immediately. He is also full of Hindu stories that have inherent lessons in them, which I love. He is the Excursion Coordinator for INH (Indian Health) SIT undergraduate students who stay in Delhi the whole semester. Goutam-ji's wife, Archna-ji, who is also a Hindi teacher and Jill-of-all-trades, is one of the sweetest women I've ever met. She loves education and teaching, and she is 100% ready at any time to answer all of our cultural questions to the best of her ability. I have had several conversations with her, about caste, about arranged marriage, about nose piercings, about clothing customs, about gender roles, about everything. After working with SIT undergraduate students for a decade, she has developed an ability to be the bridge between American and Indian culture for her American students. She is in charge of Student Affairs for INH, which means she is basically everything for these students: nurse, counselor, adviser, hugger, etc. Basically when a student needs something, they go to her.

Goutam-ji and Archna-ji have been as open to us as they can be about their lives, which has helped us understand Indian culture a little better. They have told us about their arranged marriage, their position as Brahmins (the highest Priestly/Scholarly caste), their homes—he is from Varanasi (which used to be called Baranas) in Uttar Pradesh (UP) and she is from Jaipur in Rajasthan, their families, their traditions, their opinions. Since we didn't get to do homestays during our two-week courses, they kind of filled the role of host-parents for us. In fact, now that the SIT classes are done, Archna-ji and Goutam-ji have decided to take full responsibility for me, even taking me out last night to a local market to buy/barter for more (and cheaper) traditional Indian clothing. I'll explain more about my current situation in a little bit (after I've covered what the heck I've been doing for the past few weeks!).

So I ended my first blog post right before my first day of SIT classes. Let me explain this whole thing: I've been wanting to spend an extended period of time working in a developing country like Brazil or India for a few years now. Unfortunately, I let things (boys, pretty much) get in the way of that. However, after spending a year single, getting to know myself as an adult, honing my independent skills, getting to know my parents and sisters and friends better, I decided it was finally time to get on out there. I'm happy to have a guy now who is really supportive of this! My sister, Becky, studied abroad in Ghana last summer for three weeks with SIT, the School for International Training. She came back radiating this joy of new-found understanding about how little she actually will ever be able to understand about other cultures, among other learnings. I was impressed by how empowered she seemed to feel about this, so when my mom suggested I do some research to see if SIT had any graduate programs abroad, I obliged. I learned that SIT exchange programs are part of an umbrella organization called World Learning, which is based in Brattleboro, Vermont, which has been around for 80 years or more. World Learning also has a Graduate Institute in Vermont (as well as one in D.C.) and 140+ international development programs all over the world. Its mission focuses on social justice, cultural awareness, and sustainable development. Their Experiment in International Living for high school students affected Sargent Shriver so deeply that he modeled the Peace Corps after it, and SIT actually trained Peace Corps volunteers for a long time. My roommate, Brittany, is even in a master's program that will recognize her forthcoming Peace Corps service as her practicum.

Most importantly for my case was the fact that SIT Graduate Institute was offering two simultaneous two-week graduate field courses in India—the one titled “Social Innovation for Societal Transformation” and the other titled “Governance, Human Rights, and Advocacy.” That sounded perfect for me, and I decided to change my would-be focus from Brazil to India. My thinking was that, by beginning an extended period in a developing country learning about what development looks like on the ground there, the rest of my time would be a lot more structured and purposeful in my lead-up to a master's program in development. The only issue was that the field courses were really only available for SIT grad students, but I was encouraged by a receptionist to email the course professors and raise the possibility of taking the courses as a non-matriculated student. I went for it, since I had nothing to lose, and I even ended up visiting one of the professors, Dr. Aqeel Tirmizi, on the Brattleboro campus last Fall when we went up to visit Becky at Landmark College for leaf-peeping purposes. My efforts paid off, and here I am!

So what did these two courses actually entail? Over the course of 10 academic days, we met with 21 different organizations related to sustainable development here in North India. We spent the first week in Delhi, which is the capital of India, and the second week in Jaipur, in the neighboring state of Rajasthan. Sunday, January 12^th was our orientation day. We arrived around 10am to be greeted by Archna-ji, who painted red bindis and placed a couple of grains of rice on each of our foreheads. The bindi, aside from simple ornamentation, signifies the awakening of the third eye. She also tied dyed-red strings around our right wrists to signify our connectedness. 

My first bindi!

Aqeel, from Pakistan, was not ever able to obtain an Indian visa, so he recruited SIT grad and Indian social entrepreneur Venky Raghavendra to be his replacement and voice for the first week. So Venky accompanied Jennifer Collins-Foley, a long-time development expert who has, in the past decade, also become an expert in gender and development, in going through our syllabi and preparing us for the jam-packed schedule. We also were joined by Dr. Nidhi Singh, a psychologist for Action for Autism, one of the organizations we would be meeting with the next day. I don't know about the other students, but I wasn't really aware that Dr. Singh's real purpose for that day was helping us to simply get acquainted with Delhi. I think we were ready to jump in and learn about what she does and about women's issues rather than what she knows about navigating Delhi, so I felt like we didn't really utilize her knowledge well enough. If I could go back, though, I would have asked more about using the Metro system, how to tell if a rickshaw driver is scamming you, where the nearest post office and grocery store are, how to get a cell phone (and get it up and working), where to buy pepper spray, where to buy the cheapest and best local clothing, where to get good cheap food, etc. Oh well—figuring it out on our own ended up building a lot of character!

That afternoon we were all taken via bus to Himayun's Tomb. On the way, in between slum and camel-sightings, I talked to Abit-ji about caste and slums. He explained to me that the Caste System was born in ancient Aryan times, when people were assigned to caste according to their occupation. But it eventually became a generational system, and a person's caste has come to be determined by birth. The idea, in Hinduism, is that if you fulfill your dharma (moral duty), you will be reborn into a higher caste in the next life, with the ultimate goal being moksha (enlightenment). There are four major caste categories, each originating from a different part of the body of Lord Brahma at the moment of creation: the highest Brahmin caste came from the mouth, the Kishatryas (warriors) came from the arms, the Vaishyas (merchants) from the thighs, and the Shudras (laborers) from the feet. Within these four castes are hundreds of jatis (social communities) that are further determined by occupation, and Hindus will only marry someone of the same jati (although the other person must strictly be outside of the family group). In fact, the most visible aspect of the Caste System in Indian cities is in the paper, where you can find marriage ads listed by caste. In fact, I just looked at The Times of India's Matrimonials, and there is a category to search by caste--there are literally dozens of castes listed. Here's a link to The Hindu's Matrimonials: http://www.thehindu.com/classifieds/matrimonial/ so you can see what a variety of marriage ads looks like; very interesting. Abit-ji told me that there is actually a financial incentive of some sort to encourage people to list that caste is not a factor in posting their matrimonial classified. 

Below the castes lie the “outcasts” as I mentioned in my previous entry. This mainly refers to the Dalits (formerly called Untouchables in Hindi), who are tasked with the very worst jobs of society that no one else is willing to do, like cleaning out manual toilets, handling dead people and animals, and sorting and sweeping trash. As Untouchables, Dalits have been forbidden over the centuries from entering the house of or even eating with someone within the caste system. They were supposed to move out of the way of someone of a higher caste, because even their shadow was thought to be polluting. The belief is that Dalits did something in a previous life to deserve rebirth out of the caste system. In fact, many of them even are prejudiced against themselves, believing that they themselves are untouchable because of their low position in society. In any case, Dalits have traditionally been horribly oppressed by society, and they continue to be today. For example, students in upper castes in public schools refuse to eat with Dalits or eat food made by Dalits, and there are temples that still have signs barring entry by Dalits, even though prejudice on the basis of caste is now illegal. Although there is some relationship between upper-caste people being ligher-skinned and lower-caste people/Dalits being darker skinned, caste is not really physically apparent. There are particular ways of knowing what caste a person comes from, like their occupation, their name, their location, their headwear, or their ornamentation (Dalits used to be tattooed with little symbols on their forehead). In cities, occupation is no longer as much of a factor as it used to be, so people instead ask, “What is your name?” If a person answers with simply their first name, it is assumed they are hiding their lower-caste identity. They are then further pressed for their last name, or for where they live.

Since Dalits and nomadic and seminomadic tribes/Adivasi were not originally listed as official, they are now officially called “scheduled castes” and “scheduled tribes.” There are reservations for them in Parliament, in public service jobs, and in universities. This has had a positive effect, it seems, on helping India start the process of moving away from the Caste System. But these reservations are criticized much like Affirmative Action has been criticized in the United States, because they block those who “merit” sought-after positions from attaining them. It may take a thousand more years to change what has been firmly entrenched for thousands of years, but little by little, change is happening.

Abit-ji also told me some interesting things about slum dwellings in India. There are several different types of slums, some that are “authorized,” some that are “recognized,” and some that are completely unofficial. Those that are authorized might have, for instance, running water and electricity provided, and the residents may even have official addresses, and recognized slumdwellers might be provided simply with an address, as opposed to nothing at all for unofficial slumdwellers. Basically there are politicians who realize the voting power that lies untapped within a slum (untapped because, although India is "the largest democracy in the world," one must have an address in order to vote). A politician might pull strings to get a certain area recognized or authorized in exchange for a block of faithful voters. There are also laws about squatting that enable a person to file a claim to a particular plot of land they've been on for some amount of time. Archna-ji and Goutam-ji told me yesterday that in order to clear an authorized or recognized slum, a landowner must prove that they have a need for the land being cleared. Otherwise, the slum and its dwellers stay. Those who live in unofficial slums run the risk of being cleared out at the drop of a hat. That is why many slums are built around temples, where no other buildings are likely to be built.

All in all, talking with Abit-ji was mind-blowing. Nevermind the fact that I saw a Punjabi procession of turbaned men on camel brought up in the rear by a man with a loooong white beard and a three-foot high royal blue turban, on the streets of Delhi during our ride. Or the fact that every sign was written in a minimum of two different alphabets, if not three or four. Or the fact that there were cars, auto-rickshaws, motorcycles, bicycle-rickshaws, carts, cows, horses, goats, and bicycles weaving all over the road, completely ignoring any sort of lanes or order. Those sightings and situations have become common place since that first ride to Himayun's Tomb.

My friend Emily had been chatting up this Indian family,
and they asked for a picture with me (much to Emily's chagrin)

So I asked for a picture with them for my records
(we have all gotten asked constantly
to be in pictures, and Emily definitely
 had her turns!)

Just an extra tomb lying off to the side of the main tomb

Can you see the resemblance between Himayun's Tomb and the Taj Mahal?

A gate at Himayun's Tomb

The dome above Himayun's Toomb

Himayun's Tomb was built by Moghuls (Arabian/Muslim imperialists) awhile ago (1570, if you care to know), and it served as a model for the eventual, much grander Taj Mahal. Not too much is known about it, so I used our visit to ponder all of the fascinating and horrifying things I had just learned. I also got to spend some time getting to know other students, all of whom are working on their masters at SIT Vermont or D.C., or are doing a low-residency masters. I've already introduced Jamie, Michele, and Brittany. I had also previously met Valerie, a francophone woman from Chad (who also speaks Arabic and at least three tribal languages) who has seen it all; Nicole, a Floridian who is my same age and who had worked in a battered woman's shelter for three years before going back to school; Claire, a Peace Corps Nicaragua alum who worked closely with my TCU friend Hanna Useem; and Laurie, a Peace Corps Albania alum who actually married her Albanian counterpart. That Sunday I met Scott, a vegan who had visited India six years ago (and went to Tushita Meditation Center!) before spending four years in the Peace Corps in St. Vincent and the Grenadines; Emily, a former teacher in Nantes, France, who works with international students in Providence, RI; Pam, a former physical and special education teacher (who was Allie Harbert's director in Costa Rica!); Bill, a former property manager and subsequent rafting guide in Maine; and John, who did two stints in the Peace Corps in Tonga and Liberia (where he was mugged by men with machetes, he later told me). Needless to say, I was in awesome company for the duration of my first two weeks in India (although none of those North Easterners understood my cravings for tacos, queso and tortilla chips :P), and I am so happy that I now have a solid group of friends who are definitely going to continue to do great things all over the world.

After Himayun's Tomb we were taken to Dilli Haat, a big market by the INA Metro Station that is controlled by the fact that you have to pay 10 Rs. to enter. It has stalls and shops with handcrafts, clothing, and food, as well as performers from all over India. Although the items for sale were a little more expensive there than they would be in other open markets, the pieces were authentic and many of the items were fair-trade (and they were still really cheap as compared to what you'd pay in the US!). Brittany and I set goals of buying a couple kurtas (long shirts that reach mid-thigh with slits up to your waste) and a scarf each. I actually came to India following the advice of a high school friend who suggested I bring only a couple of outfits and buy traditional clothing here, so I was excited at the prospect of lengthening the period of time between handwashing my clothes in the sink! I quickly spotted a beautiful pale turquoise and off-white kurta at the stall of a couple who were from near the Himalayas. Anyone who knows me well could have picked out this shirt for me—it was absolutely perfectly turquoise. The couple wanted 700 Rs. ($11.50) for it, so I offered 350 like Abit-ji and Goutam-ji had suggested we do as a bartering technique. They wouldn't budge, though, and then they seemed to get distracted by Brittany's smile and departure when I continued to try to get them to lower their price. I walked away feeling pretty defeated, but still wanting that kurta. Brittany and I ended up buying kurtas (500 Rs apiece) and scarves (700 Rs apiece) that were great, but my mind was still on that shirt. I was a little uneasy about how to restart a bartering conversation, and I said so to Goutam-ji when I ran into him a little later. He got a twinkle in his eye and we went back over to them. Try as he might, they wouldn't go below 670 Rs., but I wanted the shirt badly enough to pay the full $11.10 for it. I have been extremely satisfied with my purchase, and now I know that there are times when bartering just won't work. You buy the item if it is worth it to you.

Dilli Haat was the perfect market for us to visit during our first weekend. It was so festive and pretty and calm; a nice way to prepare us for crazy open-air markets

A traditionally-dressed nomadic Rajasthani playing a nose flute. I wonder how he found his nostrils with all that hair!

The scene right before our departure at Dilli Haat. Punjabi drummers and music encouraged audience members (including my friend Michele) to dance with them!

Two Punjabi dancers in traditional dress at Dilli Haat

We left Dilli Haat, pulsing to the beat of Punjabi drums accompanying a pair of gyrating Punjabi dancers in purple, and headed to dinner. The restaurant, Evergreen, is in a nicer shopping district (remember, even if I say “nice,” things are still dusty, there is still trash, there are still some decrepit buildings around, etc.), and its four floors of dining rooms grew up over time from its first-floor sweets and snack shop. There we dined on chaat, plates of snacks that are honestly difficult for me to describe. I specifically remember liking one that had fried dumplings covered in yogurt and a slightly sweet, tangy sauce with something kind of crunchy on top. There was another plate that had popped rice mixed with peanuts and diced tomato and some other stuff. Then dinner included rice and paneer and some kind of curry. My boyfriend has taught me to love paneer, which is basically blocks of really mild cheese that take on the flavor of whatever is put with it. I have to be careful to not always order paneer every time I eat at a restaurant. I enjoyed getting to talk to Nicole, Pam, Emily and Archna-ji about their lives and Archna-ji's arranged marriage to Goutam-ji. They were married about a decade ago, and they saw each other only twice, I think, before they were married. Someone's cousin was the sister of someone's aunt, and they were matched together because people thought their personalities would work well together (and as far as I know, they were right). They both had to be Brahmin, but they could not come from the same family group, so it was a good thing that Archna-ji came from Jaipur and Goutam-ji came from Varanasi. I believe that Goutam-ji is of a slightly higher jati than Archna-ji, but I don't really know how that plays out.

The yogurt-and-dumplings-and-tangy sauce chaat

The popped-rice-and-other-stuff chaat

The I-dunno-what-was-in-this-but-it-was-good chaat

Paneer masala, rice, garlic naan and curry for our main dish

Fried dough (maybe chick-pea flour?) dipped in honey or some kind of sugary syrup. YUM!

Just to give you an idea of where we ate

I came home that night and started composing my first blog entry. My mind was so full of new knowledge and wonder and questions and connections and insight. I just felt overwhelmed, and I was asking myself, “How in the world is my mind going to be able to process anything at this rate?” And then classes started.

By “classes,” I don't mean traditional lecture classes. At any given point we were either listening to a speaker discuss his or her organization/cause/theory of social entrepreneurship or social change, or we were asking questions to that person about their organization/cause/theory, or we were discussing said organization/cause/theory as a group. Many of those group discussions happened on the bus in between sessions with speakers, because that was the only time we really had with our incredibly packed schedule to synthesize our learning. We started every morning around 9ish, breaking for lunch from 1pm-2pm (sometimes we had lunch speakers), and then we would continue until 4pm at the earliest, ending at 7pm one night (I think we heard from four organizations that day). We met some of the most amazing, most inspiring Indian change-makers, who believe firmly in their country's potential and who are unwilling to give up on their goals despite the huge obstacles they face in terms of government inaction/obstruction/corruption/unwillingness, societal norms/expectations/customs/traditions/diversity/disunity, economic disparity and population. For the purpose of not completely overdoing it in one blog post, I will save my descriptions of each person/organization in my next blog (which I have already started). I'll conclude this post by saying that I am truly grateful for having had the opportunity to begin my four-month adventure in India with these two courses, and the groundwork has been laid for me to maximize my time here working in development.

In the meantime, I am staying at the SIT Delhi Center completing a UT Distance Ed class in Microeconomics and writing papers for each of my SIT courses. Dr. Azim Khan, the director of SIT Delhi and SIT India, graciously offered me room and board here at the center while I tie up loose ends. When I have finished, I will begin working for Dr. Azim. He and his colleagues here at SIT Delhi established the Foundation for Public Health, Education and Development (FPHED) to address development needs in Dr. Azim's home village of Bahraich, UP. They have started the Global School of Learning (GSL) there, so I will be working some to update publications on that. But I will also be heavily involved with the conduction and analysis of FPHED's first baseline health survey, and I am really excited about that! I will tell you more about FPHED and GSL as I get started :)

Śānti,

Ellie