My heart is in the mountains

Some Students, Pooja and I the last class before Holi

My first workaway experience is going great! It's getting near the end of the first school year here. The kids are all taking their exams and preparing for their first annual function. The kids will be preforming two dances, one a traditional Garwali dance, the locals in the mountains traditionally speak Garwali, and a Punjabi Bangra. Bangra is a traditional/modern fusion from Punjab. During Holi the bangra songs often got people moving more than any other type of music. Bangra dance is also a fusion of traditional moves and breakdance. The boys that are doing the dance stand on each others shoulders, do cartweels and breakdance. I've helped a little with the choreagraphy. There are also two short plays, one is a traditional story and another is an 8 minute adapted Snow white, in english. The kids doing that play don't speak their roles, instead, I went to a recording studio with Pooja and read the script. So they act to my narration! haha, it's funny to hear my voice mixed in with background music and sound affects. Because the kids are taking there tests and preparing for the annual function I'm only teaching for about 40 minutes a day, although that's enough. It is fun and challenging to teach. I recently finished an online TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) course, technically I can teach now! But of course the proof is in the pudding, it's been fun to try different angles of approach and seeing the reactions in the kids. Of course it's best if I can get them up and moving. I asked an older student to give me feedback and he told me that I was doing a good job, yay! It's a learning experience for both them and me though. Pooja, who has been teaching for years say that I'm doing well and the kids respect me. In Varanassi where I was previously volunteering the students didn't respect me at all, it wasn't personal, they've just been taught that any foreigner who walks through the doors is basically a jungle gym. Here, the students address me as sir and ask before getting up out of their seat. Quite a change, I've been trying to teach the students the basic uses of verbs. A surprise came yesterday when I asked the students to raise their hands and tell me as many english verbs as they know, while I wrote them on the board. One student said, bowling, and then in a flurry of hands they said, keeping, fielding and batting. It's the Cricket World Cup! Everyone in India knows about Cricket, sadly I know nothing, even though the rules have been explained to me multiple times. Right now is an intense time for everyone in India not only because everyone I meet is an avid fan but the games are being played right here in India! India beat Australia a few days ago and is set to play Pakistan next, I think. It was great to see the kids enthusiasm about their favorite sport.
After class on Thursday I said I was going on a hike. I had my eyes set on a rocky peak above the school. It was wonderful to wander through the fields that turned to managed forest. The women, who do almost all the work, climb the oaks and gather the leaves for fodder. Almost all the oaks look like odd stunted cacti with leaves growing right from the trunk. I followed trails until I came to the highest house and then it was a scramble up the slope. The people here are amazing, the land has all been terraced so they can grow crops on the steep mountainside. The higher I went the drier it became until I was climbing on all fours. A couple of months ago I bought some Chako knockoffs for about $10, they do fine in the everyday adventure, but I dearly needed shoes with some sort of grip. Then I had to climb up the knife like ridge of rock clambering up boulders and such. It took me three hours to gain maybe 2,000 feet. When I got to the top, I wrote this:

My heart is here in the mountains. I'm sitting on a rock, perched on an un-named peak. The wind is blowing cumulus clouds in from the east, a change in weather is coming. A Great Bustard is dancing with the wind ripping over the knife like ridge from the adjacent valley. It is spring, and I am home. At least it feels that way, the metamorphic rock is even similar. I know, I got a close look as I scrambled my way up here. It was better than trying to go up the slope of dry dead grass that my shoes don't have any grip on.
I'm in the foothills of the Himalaya, on the other side of the world and yet it couldn't feel more similar to home. The same uplifting of tectonic plates has created the geography, the same types of plants, animals, even the dry earth has the same smell as home.
To commend myself for getting out, mentally and physically I have a banana and an orange. I was getting desperate, I've been in the cities too long. I am a man of the mountains. They are my home. I can even name the genus of many plants that I see, some are even the same as Ashland. On my way up I caught a small movement out of the corner of my eye, it was a flightless praying mantis, with three dark stripes down it's back and a swagger to mimic the play of the wind on the dry grass stalks. I was lucky to see it. In my scramble up the rocks I also cam across two different lizards, one was about a foot long. Not to mention springs flowers, cherry blossoms, daisies and wildflowers in the heights of the mountain.
This is the first time that I've been alone in a long time, what a joy it has been to walk, crawl and climb my way up here. I wouldn't mind having my adventurous friends along, but they are on their own journeys.
The weather front is cruising in, I'm going to start my descent so I can do it in the warm rays of the sun.
It took me almost 6 hours to get back. When I got to the school, Pooja was on the roof with binoculars in her hands. For the past hour she and another teacher had been looking for my bright smiley face hat. They were a little worried but I explained to them that it was normal for me. If I go out and I'm not back by dark, then there's a problem, otherwise don't worry. It didn't help that everyone in the village who learned about my adventure personally told me not to go alone because of the Tigers, Leopards and Bears. I also told them that in our mountains we have bears and leopards. It explained why everyone gave me a weird look when I told them what I was doing. Tigers and Leopards actually kill people here. Although the chances of that happening are much less than an accident in the cliff side drive from Dehradun to the school.

A not so holy Holi!

Pooja, Manish, Chakori and I, after a colrful day!

The 20th was Holi, the Hindu festival of good vanquishing evil and the coming of spring. But of course it's not that boring:

Pooja told me that for Holi we were going to have a small party at the house. 20 to 30 people she told me, she made it sound almost mellow. So, the day before she had some people come and set up a big tent and brought 20 or so plastic chairs. We also rented a couple of speakers and set them up in the yard. The day before Holi Pooja's sister and her husband arrived to celebrate with us.
I woke up and everything began normally. We had breakfast together and everyone put on some old clothes. Manish gave me one of his old shirts to wear since I ahve only three. We ate breakfast and then around 8:30 we "Happy Holi'd" each other: We smeared scented colors on each others face. The colors represent different aspects of life and well, it means we all get healthy dosings of each. By putting the colors on each other we are wishing for those attributes to come in that persons life during the next year. After we preformed the Holi rites within the family it was time to do the family rounds. I live in a community of upper class Indians called Kewal Vihar, Manish's family all live in the community or on the street across the way. Really, every house on that street is family! Manish told me that's 105 people, it's a big family, needless to say I've forgotten all of their names and fall back on "uncle" and "aunt."
We went across the main road to the street that's all family and began the rounds of "Happy Holing" the whole extended family. Every house we went to it was the same ritual "HAPPY HOLI," we'd shout and then take turns smearing colors on everyone's faces and embrace. After that the hosts of house that we were visiting would offer us food to which everyone in our party would flat out refuse. Me being the double guest, guest of the guest, would have to eat something. I would try to get away with a grape or something small. By now I've figured out how to battle Indian hospitality, refuse everything at first otherwise they'll pile food on you like you won't believe. We went to all the houses repeating the same ritual. At this point Holi was pretty mellow. At one house Manish asked for beer and we drank up. Beer for breakfast! Then things began to get interesting because the cousins showed up, squirt guns and water balloons in hand. The fun began, we continued the rounds, but now the game became a little bit more savage. People on rooftops were shooting colored water from the Indian version of dipsticks. I duked it out with the cousins, buckets of water became the ultimate weapon. We finished "Happy Holing" the family and returned to the house. I was at the wet stage now.
Across the street lives another relative, we went there, it was a real party. There is a girls hostel next door to my house, the girls are from different parts of India living there and studying in Dehradun's many high schools. They were there, as well as more family. The speakers were on full blast from the house, they were dancing and cousins were running about dousing each other with water. As soon as I arrived Manish's aunt, who was an absolute doll when I met her, slowly got up out of her chair, gave me another dose of color along with a hug and proffered more food.
When I went and met her the first time she told me that I looked just like Jesus, when I had a beard I can kinda understand the resemblance, because of my blue eyes. She told me that she doesn't like meeting people anymore because she is always gets attached and gets sad when they leave. She used to be a teacher at one of the most prestigious schools here and has had many foreign friends. When I told her that Lassi is my favorite food she promised me that next time I come she'll make me a Lassi! She's a really sweet lady.
Holi started to get savage, I was getting attacked from all angles by the cousins so I took extreme measures, I wrenched a bucket from the hands of a cousin and put myself right in the middle of the water feature. A small pool with a waterfall. I doused everyone who came within bucket striking distance for about 5 minutes. The cousins were helpless with my superior firepower. I ruled the scene until another bucket was found and people got smart and started filling up at the other pond. I gave up my post in the pool and dumped a bucket of water on Manish's head.
It was dancing time! I danced with Chakori (Pooja's daughter), cousins and the hostel girls. All was great until and uncle came up behind me and grabbed me, this was the beginning of the end. Cousins started jumping on me, even as I wiggles and squirmed they pushed me into the lake of mud that the lawn had become. I held off the onslaught for a few moments, but in the end it's hard to beat 20 something happy Indians determined to shove you into the mud. I went face first, I tried to keep my head up but they splashed muddy water in my face an stood on my back... haha... not. I got up, grabbed my uncle and tossed him into the mud, and a cousin before and aunt told me to stop... doesn't seem fair does it? I took a bucket of water on the head to get the muck off, one of my earings were missing. I checked the muck with no avail, I still have one though :D I went back to my house and quickly made another out of bamboo, it was a good idea because now it's stained purple.
Back at the festivities the same uncle who tossed me into the muck handed me a glass of something. I get handed glasses of something all the time, you have to be careful with drinks here unless you like drinking odd, salty, different masala flavored drinks. I love the Indian spices, just not so much in water, it's a real aquired taste. For Holi they make a salty, masala flavored carrot drink that has herbs in it to aid in digestion. I knew it was safe though because I've gotten my colors down, it was flavored with makhania, a super yummy spice, and sweet. I drank it thinking to myself, finally something cold and refreshing, that didn't have carrots floating in it. I poured my second glass and was drinking it when a cousin ran over to me and said, "Stop! It's bhang!" Great, so the yummy drink has marijuana in it. Thanks for telling me uncle!
I hopped from one side of the street to the next, helping on our side and dancing at the other. At some point the party shifted and we got to bump our speakers full blast as everyone was dancing to bollywood hits.I had a dance off with Chakori to a song, she beat me with all music video moves. The hostel girls were all milling around the snack table not dancing, and having learned from the best, I walked over and yelled at the top of my lungs, "Kao, Kao, Pio, Pio!" Which is the the command, "eat, eat, drink, drink!" Needless to say, with one of the hosts bellowing at them they did just that. I went to Pooja and told her what I did, we laughed because I'm always making fun of her for telling me and everyone else to eat. I played Indian host to the best of my abilities!
There was still a party on the other side of the street I made the fatal mistake of going over, only to meet some more cousins who earlier had been so nice and formal with me, they decided that the perfect way to introduce me to holi was by taking mud and shoving it directly in my face and then throwing me into the mud puddle, and of course making sure that I stayed there for some time. I managed to get up with a smile on my face, "Don't worry, it's Holi," running through my head. I went to get them back and one by one drop them in the mud, but my aunt stopped me for a second time... really!?
At some point the party died, the girls went next door and all the family exited. Pooja, Manish, Chakori, my aunt and uncle, and I were left standing alone in the trashed yard. We quickly talked it out and decided that we weren't done, plans had changed, we had to party hop. A couple quick calls and we located where the party was! It was a block party! Manish and I walked and everyone else drove the distance, we arrived when they were exiting the car... The party was still going on but at this point almost every time someone got a bucket on their head someone else would shout, "Would you stop already!" The water and colors slowly wound down as people were getting hungry. Pooja signaled to me it was time to set up for lunch. I jogged back to the house with a cousin to help. We set everything up just in time for the hungry family to devour the monsterous pot of rice, some bright yellow and totally yummy Holi curry and Goat.
It was a feast, I ate tons while chatting with different people. I asked a family friend directly why they spoke in English rather than Hindi, she told me that English was no longer "English" and was a universal language, thus it binds nations and India together because not all Indians speak Hindi. She also told me that she personally spoke English around me so that I wouldn't feel left out! I asked her if we could speak in Hindi and we did. People slowly trickled away and a few latecomers arrived. Each time we repeated the "Happy Holi" with everyone who came. At about 3 PM our last guest left and everyone went upstairs to sleep I helped clean up a little bit and then went outside to sit.
Sitting, the first thing I noticed was how quiet everything was, I couldn't hear a single human sound. It was like the whole city was in the midst of a huge sigh of joy for a day spent to the fullest. It was the quietest I've ever heard India, really everything was silent. All the festivities had ended and everyone was home, sleeping off their bursting bellies and hangovers. It didn't take long for me to find out what made this day so special, everyone had a good time. Bar none everybody let go of their worries for a little while and just had a blast. I received more hugs in one day then I've gotten in all of India, I'm hug deficient. The barriers that exist between the sexes, ages and social positions were broken. India never ceases to amaze, I had a block party with my adopted family! All the formalities that we go through every time we've met before were thrown out the window, what I thought would be a relatively mild Holi turned out to be a full on block party that included the whole city! We stayed within our bubble of family and friends, but all over the same thing was happening. Woohoo! It was a day for the books!

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so this post is worth a picture or two.
You can see all my pictures at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/alexlandt/

Lassi dreams and language woes

Well, my dreams of making wonderful Lassis at festivals when I come back to the U.S. has been broken. Today I made a Lassi for myself and Manesh after lunch, it wasn't as good as the lassis I'd had before even though I did everything the same. Then I remembered what my friend the Lassi-wallah told me, "You can make Lassis in the U.S. but do you ahve good milk?" Varanassi has over a hundred thousand head of cows within it's city limits (I guess I'm still in love with the city, so I'll keep talking about it), that would be like Ashland having over 2,000 cows walking the streets. And that doesn't include the Buffalo. In Varanassi cows milk isn't sold. That's because there are enough buffalo to provide milk for all the people who don't have their own cows. Cows are held sacred here and the milk is too, so in the sacred city of Varanassi you can't buy it except in little prepackaged packets. What is the fun in that when you can go to the 24 hour milk market (It really exists!). Still on a tangent, excuse me, the cows all wander the streets by day and return at night for food and to be milked. Around 9 at night one finds little dairies have popped up all around the city. Basically people milking their cows and storing the milk. Nighttime is an adventure in the narrow streets, dodging the sleeping cows and trying not to anger them. I have been butted by cows, thankfully never by a cow with sharp horns. Anyways, the yogurt that I used to make the lassi paled in comparison with what is used in Varanassi. I'll just have to bring a water buffalo back with me :D
I thought for some time about what I wrote on my last blog post, I think I was too harsh on the english education. Education in english is a good thing, but, what is lacking is the education to keep culture and traditions alive. All across India people are throwing away their culture to follow the newest trends and to act "western." Coming from a western culture and recognizing that money and stuff doesn't bring happieness as well as the knowledge that if everyone on the planet lived like we do (those of us who are priveledged, to look at my blog, on a computer, connected to the internet), then we'd consume all the resources left in a matter of years. In fact we are doing that, but I'll take my emotions about the state of the planet out on my journal. You want to know about India. In India there are over 250 recognized languages, and I believe 17 official languages, english included. Someone I met told me that recently in the tribal northeast ethnologists who were sent to study a culture and unique language instead discovered a new one... There are a lot of languages here. Today I was listening to the radio and someone called the station from Assam, one of the Northeastern States and asked the MC to please speak in english so they could understand. English is becoming the way that many Indians communicate with each other from across the states and many cultures. It is a neutral language since it was introduced from outside, and the fact that it is probably the most important language to know, makes it a pretty good language to teach school in.
On a side note, my Hindi is pretty stagnate because of the Hinglish and English. Pooja told me that she had to ask the kids at school how to say pinecone in english. She is speaking on the phone now and at least 1 in 5 words is in English. This is the evolution of language at work.

From One Extreme to Another

I'm sitting in the living room at my new residence. The home of a workaway host. Workaway.info is a website that connects people like me who are looking for volunteer opportunities with those who have them. Pooja and Manesh have a small school in the mountains around Dehradun. Today was my first day of work and the first impression that comes to mind is obedience. Compared with the last kids that I was dealing with these kids are little angels.
I thought of Ashland the whole day today. The school is located about 4,500 feet above sea level and it's Spring! The biome is quite similar to Ashland's, there are pines, oaks, rhodadendron and other species that are around our area. It feels very much like home... and well, I was missing Ashland a little bit. I was thinking about spring rains and Trilliums in the forest.
I taught English and read the script for the play that the kids will be preforming on April 8th. For my introduction I used a map to show where I was from and taught the kids to say "Where are you from?, I am from..." The school is an "English Medium School," as much as possible is taught in english. There are goverment schools in the area, in fact there is one not even a hundred feet down the road. But the education at these schools is quite poor. I can attest to this because the government schools that the kids were going to in Varanassi before coming to Saraswati Center's "Coaching," taught the kids to purely copy things and repeat whatever is said to them.
Neither the "English Medium" schools or government schools are in my opinion the way that things should be taught. Government schools teach kids nothing and "English Medium" schools impart on kids that their culture is backwards and english is sophisticated and better. Dehradun is north India's center for education, the city abounds with schools with names like "Maple Bear Canadian School," these private schools bring kids from all over North India into this city.
In Varanassi I had a room that by stretching out I could touch both sides. Now I have a huge bed and my own bathroom. I took my first hot shower in ages. The night before last I went to a men only cocktail party with Manesh, the opinions of these well-to-do Indian men was quite different than my own and many of the other Indians I have met in my travels. English words are always sprinkled in to Hindi, but in this upper strata of the population English is spoken as much as Hindi, it is really Hinglish as Pooja's daughter told me. English is used for emphasis and for emotions, as well as almost all technical talk comes in English. I find it rather funny to hear English swear words interspersed in Hindi dialogue. Since the whole family is fluent in English I have to be rather ostentatious to keep them from speaking English with me as well. I do my best but since my Hindi isn't nearly as good as their English it is quite difficult. With that said I ma proud of myself for how quickly I learned Hindi. Before I left Varanassi people would ask me how many years had I been living there rather than days or months.
I have fallen in love with India, this place is truly indescribable. The more I learn the more astounded I become. The history is like tracing the roots of a giant tree, the branches lead all across the spectrum of civilization and imagination. Every city is located on some ancient spot that has been razed and rebuilt over the centuries. When I go into the hills where the school is people are growing wheat and corn in the same way that they've been for thousands of years with almost no change. One totally random tidbit that I read which I think is absolutely ridiculous and awesome is that in the south of here, on the Deccan Plateau a tribe of people used to capture and train monitor lizards so that they could scale cliffs to attack citadels. They would tie themselves to the lizards and with their help climb the cliffs and invade the fortresses... it's like freaking Lord of the Rings. Here in India the imagination doesn't need to go far before it runs into reality.

Munna Guest House

I'm leaving my guest house tomorrow, back to Dehradun and I've been meaning to write about it. I really don't spend that much time there but it is such a unique and special place that it just has to be described.
Munna guest house has no signs and there is no way to find it unless you know where it is. You would think that your just walking into someones home... except a very dirty one. We have our own pack of wild dogs! Beat that, it's like turf wars! Huh, are dogs will whoop yours! But seriously, we have a pack of dogs that lives, and shits all over the gust house. They also try to come into my room and cuddle with me! Munna is a nice guy who seems to like long term stayers who are students or musicians. I felt like I was living in a dorm or something this. Lately though, with the tourist season in full throttle I've come back to find 20 people hanging out right outside my room. Luckly, India has taught me how to sleep through anything. Munna guest house has the whole gamut of foreigners, jugglers, dancers, sitar and tabla players, kids working on their masters and lot's of dreads. Dread locks are the fashion for travelers in India!
My room is locked with a rigged chain and my door has a hole in it. I haven't measured it but I'd say my room is about 10 by 8. I have an old dirty mattress on the floor, a couple of bricks and a rock for a table and walls covered with past peoples art. It's perfect, I have two windows that look out on the Ganga river and the beautiful sunrise. It also means that my room has more mosquitos than you can imagine. They live in my room because there is no screen on the windows and my backpack and strewn clothes make perfect sleeping places for them during the day. Even with my misquito net I get shewed up and spit out by the nasty little bloodsuckers. I'm trying to remain equanimous and not kill, but they love the tops of my feet which always itch the worse!!! Grr!
I'm leaving Varanassi tomorrow! I'm going to miss this place, I've made so many friends, writing this means I'm missing two invitations by friends which I will osmehow juggle both this evening! I'm speaking hindi now at a conversational level, I bought my train ticket entirely in Hindi! I can't believe the change that it has caused. I feel so much a part of this place. I owe multiple food stalls money because they just tell me to come back later, between paying back people who I owe money too and doing avors for friends I could be totally busy all the time here. I don't want my visa to expire!! Yesterday I cleaned my favorite temple and hangout spot for a couple of hours with the Baba and today I pealed hundreds of peas and grated carrots for a feast that I hope to take part in as soon as I get off the computer. Every moment of my life here is amazing. I have no way to truly share it with anyone outside of the little bubble that I've created. I'm living simply, i have removed all pressures and I've just gone with the flow. The flow told me to learn Hindi, and wow, everything as changed, when I sit in conversation with only Indians and understand what is going on it is the best feeling. There is no way to understand a culture without understanding the language. The language reflects the culture and visa-versa, now that I have the key of language I'm like a kid in front of a wall of doors, opening one afterr another and marveling at what is on the other side. I could honestly write a guide to this city of all the best local places to eat. Becasue I've found almost all of them, the only one that I'm on aware of but haven't found is a 12 rupee Thali, but that's for next time. The easiest way to talk to people is to buy food from them, and thus I snack my way around this place talking with shopkeepers. Talk to everyone from another city!

How?

How to describe this fantastic, wonderful world in which I inhabit. I am a seeker, a pilgrim along the long walk towards finding myself. In the process the world expands and contracts with adventures of the most mundane to the extremely precarious. A new world has invited me into it's midst with a green cheap carpet laid down at my feet. If I am not careful this world will eat me up, swallow me and turn me into the disciple of an Aghori bab's disciple (google it). My hindi has improved with leaps and bounds each day is a new adventure just becuase I can help in some small way. I could easily be kept busy doing small things for friends and aquantances. That's just how India works, if you a have a little more, you give a little more. As a foreigner it is just assumed that we have more. Every place that one has to pay entry there are two prices, one for Indians and another for foreigners. It is the same everywhere, each thing that I buy, even a small chai is sold for double the price to me. Now I understand what's going on and I do my best to avoid paying the tourist price. There are things worse than my spelling, looking dejection, poverty, disease, and injuries in the eye everyday is one of them. Where can I help? how can I step in and make a change? This is something that I'm searching for. Now I can give these people company, because I speak hindi. Yesterday I took two boys who gather scrap cardboard for money out to lunch. One kilo of cardboard is 8 rupees, 15 cents. Plastic bottles are 10 rupees a kilo, I learned that from a girl named Khali this morning. She asked me if I had any plastic bottles.
Since the last time I sat down on the computer I've has countless adventures, I walked 100, 88.5, or 75 kilometers in 14 hours. It's a story to tell, I took part in a pilgrimage a couple of days ago. I want to do this blog justice and really try to capture the imagry of India. I feel like i flonder in my descriptions of this place that is beyond my comprehension and I'm here, living it daily. India, no Varanassu, the sacred city comparable with Jerusalam has taken my soul and held it captive. I will come back here, this city is an Oregon Country Fair, it's the best analogy I can think of, haha. I'm leaving on wendesday, if all goes as planned, but I know that a part me has burned away here, and that has given birth to new growth within myself.

Blessings From India!