We Didn't Start the Fire

This post has taken me a few days to compose if for no other reason than we have been so overwhelmingly busy, then because internet access is slightly (much) more difficult to come by than I had hoped it might be. I started this post on what was here the fifth of January. It’s also difficult to get used to not talking to the people I know and love every day and all day in the age of cell phones and wi-fi communication. In other words –even though it’s only been a little over a week, I miss my family and friends a lot right now. In any case, please know that I’m doing my best to keep in touch as often as possible. I’ve even visited an STD (I don’t know what it stands for, but it’s basically a place where you pay to make non-local calls) to try to get in touch with my people, but the phone service wasn’t working at the moment.

The past few days have been a whirlwind. No, more like a typhoon. It’s completely fair and accurate to say that I’ve done more in the past week than I have in the past year. And those of you that know me know that I’m a pretty active person. The adventure starts off at a large conference hall in downtown Jaipur for a large Rotary International Annual District Conference. I know it doesn’t sound that interesting, but throw over a thousand people in there and have me give a presentation in front of them then things start to get interesting. For better or for worse, I decided it might be nice to mix some Hindi into my introduction just to get their attention. To me this meant: “I enjoy your culture and am trying my best to communicate with you.” To them it meant: “I am completely fluent in Hindi and want to practice it with EVERY one of you.” It’s alright, though, because it helped me make a lot of friends that I might not have met otherwise. Oh, and just a heads up –mentioning that you worked in sexual assault and HIV prevention for some reason tends to be a conversation killer over here. On the other hand –it’s part of why I was sent over here so I’m doing the best I can to spread the good word anyway.

After the presentation my GSE team members and I had the opportunity to visit the former palace of the Maharaja where a Rotarian friend of our team leader has a jewelry shop. After showing us around the palace, we attended a polo game where the younger brother of the current maharaja was sitting only a few rows ahead of us. It was a really cool experience –and one of the few times in my life I can honestly say that I enjoyed watching a sport. Polo is an intense game. And better yet, during what seemed to be the half-time there was an Indian bag-pipe squad. It was one of the many moments on this trip during which I was reminded of how ridiculously privileged I am.

The next day we visited palaces. Lots of them. The tours went at such a fast pace (we saw three HUGE palaces in one day) that I couldn’t tell you much about who lived in which, when, or why and how they stopped living there. What I can tell you is that the royalty of Rajasthan knew how to live it up. I’ve seen palaces and castles throughout Europe and the mansions and estates of the U.S., but they don’t even come close to the flamboyant opulence of the Rajasthanis. Oh, and a side note: Elephants everywhere!

Now the downside. But first let me preface this with a quick side note. There are those that might read this who might not be happy with me sharing images of a poor, or dirty India. What I am sharing with you is a reflection of what I encounter here. It is not meant to offend or caste judgment on anyone, but instead to open channels of communication cross-cultural exchange. So you know that when I share the good point s about my experiences, you know that I’m not sugar-coating anything, and that I’m telling you the truth. For example –Indian hosts treat their guests like gods.

It was expected that we would encounter poverty while over here. In fact, I was counting on it. I work in public health outreach and am always interested to learn more ab out different approaches to social problems. Here, though, there are some very clear gaps which need addressing. Beggers, for example. There are beggers here just as in any country –including the U.S.. Here, however, children are often used (enslaved is probably a better term here) to solicit money from passers go by. The money rarely goes toward feeding these children, but instead to a ring-leader. A picture says a thousand words, so here it is. And to be frank, this is not an uncommon sight. What’s worse, this goes on in plain view. The police, the city at large, everybody sees this happening right in front of them. I don’t have the answer to this problem, but ignoring boils down to cooperating. I know of only one organization that directly fights this issue. It’s called ECPAT (Ending Child Prostitution And Trafficking), please at least look them up. And Dan –if you’re reading this, could you please send me Guy’s contact information?

Oh, and in case any of you were wondering if I got sick yet, we’ve all taken turns worshipping the porcelain gods by now. All of us except Andy, our team leader. I’m starting to wonder if he’s just full of shit (in which case it might do him good) or if his intestines are just made of steel. But the rest of us –we’re going to have t-shirts made that read, “I crapped myself at the Taj Mahal.” Oh, speaking of which… WE FINALLY SAY THE TAJ MAHAL! It’s not called a wonder of the world for no reason. Agra, the city in which the Taj resides, on the other hand, is nothing short of the most poverty stricken slum I’ve ever seen in my life. The smog is so bad that you only barely see an outline of the Taj Mahal behind us in the photo. Still being there was an honor in itself.

I’m losing track of time here really quickly. To be honest –even when told what the date is I don’t know how long I’ve been here because I lost or gained a day in transit. We’re always in transit for this trip, though. It was five hour trip to and from Agra from Jaipur. Our next stop is a city called Udaipur, then we’ll go somewhere called Mt. Abu to rest for a day before returning to the insanity (both good and bad) of Group Study Exchange. I’m just crossing my fingers that there’s internet access there so I can finally be in touch with people, write emails, post this blog, and maybe if I’m über-lucky, make an internet call or two.