Namaste, namaste, namaste from Charan

Today was my last day in Charan. Was a pretty challenging morning, walking down to the camp knowing that this would be the last time I see the kids. I arrived early so I sat up on the road looking down on those black tents, pondering everything that's happened around this little community and how it has impacted me. Part of me wanted to turn around and go back so I wouldn't have to say so many stupid good byes. I hate good byes.

Three army trucks rumbled past, filled with soldiers wearing camoflage and turbans. They stopped at the tail end of what looked to be a traffic jam at least a kilometer long. At the source of the congestion, two trucks faced each other head on, locked in a standstill in the middle of a single lane bridge (the other lane under construction). Behind each of the stubborn vehicles, an endless line of drivers waited patiently with blank expressions on their faces, as if this was a regular occurance. The absurdity of the situation cheered me up enough to walk to the school tent and get things rolling.

Ritu, one of my more advanced students, taught a simple lesson to the younger children. "Excellent," she praised her peers for answering a question correctly. I chuckled with pride; I taught her to say that. Ritu completed her lesson to applause from the other students (they are incredibly supportive of each other). Most of the day I had the older children take on teaching roles while I gave cueues from the sidelines. Foreign volunteers don't stick around forever, but a local community Pradhan (chief) can work wonders. I know some of the students will become teachers and leaders in Charan. Others may even take larger leadership roles within the government, if their low caste status doesn't hold them down.

After class we played a game - they made sure I won. I attempted to say some words of inspiration, thanked them for being such great students, then began my long, sad walk out of the camp. It's hard not to feel a bit choked up with three kids hanging on to my shins asking me not to leave, with another hanging onto my arm (quite good exercise, lifting kids), and a fifth trying to lift me off the ground. I should point out that the children are extremely well behaved (well, most of the time) during class; such shenanigans are not permitted until after learning time stops. I've had to do my share of scolding, too, but right then and there I felt far to warm and fuzzy to do anything but smile and laugh. Blasted kids... Leave it to them to make a softy out of me!

Along the way a gaggle of 12 year old girls (also my charming students) surrounded me and wouldn't let me leave unless I gave them my phone number in the US, even though none of them have phones and if they did they couldn't afford the long distance fees. I wish women my age fought so fiercely to get my number. Just kidding.

Kashmiri Lal, one of the community leaders, came along to say goodbye. He held his baby son in the crook of his elbow while he shook my hand with both of his. "Tell your family we wish them namaste, namaste, namaste, very much."

My boggled mind can hardly comprehend how wonderful some of the people are. They have nothing and yet they are so happy, so sincere, and so giving of themselves. Little Ajay, who shines shoes for ten cents a day, offers me his crackers; meanwhile his neighbors, who collect rubbish for less than ten cents a day, want to make me chai and cook me dinner. Half of the little ones have one parent (or none), work all day, but still show up for school with big smiles, bubbling energy and impeccable (well, most of the time) manners. To be fair, there are some unfortunate cases of alcholism, domestic abuse, and, well... Obviously there's a lot of room for improvement, but there's no harm in focusing on the positives once in a while.

I will miss Charan. Almost everything about it.

A typical day...

This is where I eat breakfast.

This is where I buy ammo.

...and this is where I go to the gym. That's me on the left, as you can see I've put on some muscle (bonus points if you can find the secret dog).

Worth remembering.

"Developing countries have done the least to contribute to climate change and will be the first to face it."
-United Nations Framework on Climate Change document

Blue Sikh

By now you must be "Sikh" of reading about my trip to Amritsar. Har har...

But seriously, I felt a lot of sincere generosity there. Usually when strangers approach me in India they want to sell me something or ask for food/money/photo, but in Amritsar folks said 'hello' solely for the sake of friendly conversation (mind, this is not to say there aren't plenty of sincere & generous folks elsewhere in India). And all that tasty food at the Golden Temple, just given away for free! I didn't even have to wash my own dish!

Speaking of generosity, I would have left India some time ago if not for the hospitality of the folks from the Charan slum (I hate calling it a "slum." What an awful word - "slum" sounds like something that gets gummed up in a drainpipe. The term accurately describes the difficult living conditions, but does no justice to the quality of the inhabitants). Times have been a bit rough as of late (more on that later), but it's those cheeky kids and their surprisingly cheerful families that keep me around.

So shiny!

Golden temple, Amritsar, at midday. Each day tens of thousands of Sikhs travel to and around its shiny splendor. The temple itself houses the Sikh holy book, a massive tome, from which passages are sung (quite beautifully, accompanied by drums) over speakers. I spent may a day walking around the perimeter, enjoying the soothing tunes and upbeat beats echoing across the holy water.

Hospitality of the Sikhs

Finally skipped town for a much needed change of scenery. Visiting the Golden Temple in Amritsar, Punjab, near the Pakistan border. This is the most holy place for Sikhs, where tens of thousands of pilgrims travel daily.

Sikhs are known for their colorful turbans, impressive beards, and the occasional saber - long swords are sheathed at the side, shorter daggers are tucked into the turban. Based on my limited knowledge, there are similarities to both Hinduism and Islam in architecture and style of worship, along with some key differences. The Sikhs' disregard for the caste system, their belief in equality between kings and beggars, sets them apart from Hinduism. They have a grisly history of conflict with their Hindu and Muslim neighbors, portrayed in rows of grim paintings lining the walls of the local museum.

'Been enjoying free meals and residency at the Temple. Hospitality here is incredible. 60,000 visitors are fed delicious vegetarian meals each day, free of charge. I entered the massive dining hall, recieved my plate and watched with amazement at the clockwork system that feeds so many mouths. Everyone sits in long lines, servers move down each line with buckets of rice, dal, and chipatis, filling each plate as they pass. As each row finishes their meals, a massive squeegee is pushed down the line, mopping up spills, leaving the marble floor sparkling. Amy was hear a few months back for a friend's wedding; for more details be sure to read her entry.

Last night another westerner brought some birthday cake to the temple dormitory. He offered some to the Sikh guard, who strode up to him, gave him a stout hug and wished him "Happy Birthday." He turned down a spoon, favoring instead a foot long curved dagger that he unveiled from his robe. He proceeded to eat the cake with it, crumbs falling into his long white beard.

Will post photos once I get back to McLeod Ganj.

Travel safe, Amy-La

Resting by a Shiva shrine.

After a busy day of long goodbyes and parting cups of chai, Nurse Amy-La (as she is called by her Tibetan patients) left for Boston today in the good company of some Tong-Len volunteers. The Indian mother with the bandaged leg, the old guru with an uncomfortable itch, the Tibetan nuns with high blood pressure, the boy with Polio and everyone else in between including me, have all been healed by her strict regimen of medical care and sillyness. Kashmiri Law, gentleman of Charan, told her today, "I like you, you know how to laugh. We will miss you," followed by the question everyone always asks,

"...when will you come back?"

Horse.