Today was a big day. For the first time since arriving in India I broke my streak of vegetarianism and ate some goat, but more importantly, for the first time in my life I purchased an animal that I was intending to eat while it was still alive and watched be killed, skinned and cooked right before my eyes.
To understand why exactly I was eating goat, one would need to go back in time one week to a day of rainy construction. On that day, last Friday I think, we woke to discover that for one day we were halting work on our normal project and joining forces with all the foreign volunteers and day laborers in the Kanda Valley to build the cement roof of what is going to become the new community center. When we arrived at the site, Andrew and I quickly realized that today was going to be a little bit different from our previous days of work. First, we noticed that after laying the first bits of cement, the workers stopped to perform a brief puja, or prayer, that involved lighting incense and applying tikkas of paint and rice to everyone foreheads. Next, we watched as they took a break to enjoy a special breakfast of spiced potatoes and chai. Finally, we looked at each other slightly confused as all the workers stared silently at a man who had just arrived with a goat.
Needless to say, what happened next was quite shocking and somewhat disgusting to our American eyes, but we quickly recovered from the shock as we learned that the slaughter of a goat is a pretty common ceremony when construction is being completed and that the goat is then always served to the workers. We then went back to work, eagerly awaiting the special lunch ahead.
When we gathered for lunch, however, we soon abandoned our plan to eat the delicious meat after we learned from our host that goat is very expensive and that most of the workers could only afford to eat meat on a few occasions every year. Feeling slightly guilty, we abstained from the meat and ate our normal meal of dal and rice.
One week later, as we were faced with the impending completion of another roof, we asked whether Sadhu, the man we had been working for, had made arrangements for the meat for the final pre-building ceremony. Through our Hindi teacher and sometime translator, Binit, we learned from our host family that while Sadhu was planning to get meat for the ceremony, he could not afford to buy a whole goat. Upon learning that a goat would cost around only 2,000 rupees, or $40, Andrew and I decided to take matters into our own hands and provide the goat.
Thus, today we woke up gave the money, which turned out to only be 1700 rupees, and half an hour later met what would briefly be our new property. We then walked to Sadhu’s house to observe the pre-construction puja and sacrifice. I can’t lie, watching the sacrifice was even more disgusting the second time, mostly because we were only 10 feet away, but it seemed to please everyone else greatly, so we smiled and then joined in the massive “Machine” of people and construction.
Three hours later, when the work and the cooking had finished, the goat had been systematically cut up and cooked while we worked, Andrew and I, along with two of our other foreign volunteers were escorted into Sadhu’s mother’s house to eat the first pieces of meat. After finishing the delicious meal, we stepped outside and were quite surprised to find not only the workers, but also a large number of the neighborhood women and children, nearly thirty people in all, enjoying our gift. Standing off on the side smiling was Sadhu, clearly overjoyed, not by the fact that he had meat to eat, but by the fact that he had meat to serve to all his relatives and neighbors.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
The First Month
The following is an attempt to recap my first month in India, thus it may be short on specific details.
After arriving in Delhi on August 31st, we quickly left the heat and chaos of the city taking an overnight train to the city in Kathgodam, which is located in the northern province of Uttaranchal. After leaving the train we drove, on the most narrow and twisty roads I have ever seen from Kathgodam to Kausani, a small beautiful town high in the Himalayan foothills. We spent five days in Kausani at an incredibly beautiful hotel, where we had a short orientation, got to know our two instructors, Christina and Genevieve, and began Hindi lessons with our first teacher Binit. We spent most of our time, however, reading, relaxing, practicing yoga and , in my case, recovering from illness, on the deck of the hotel, which looked out on the real, snow capped Himalayas many miles away,
After Kausani we moved deeper into the foothills to the small, isolated, and very rural Kanda Valley. We stayed in Kanda for a little over weeks at an "NGO" (it was essentially a family who rented out rooms in their house to foreigners who want to come volunteer in India) called ROSE or Rural Organization for Social Enhancement. Most days in Kanda consisted of waking up early for a breakfast of chapati (basically tortillas) and sabji (cooked vegetables) , doing manual labor all morning at one of the work sites, lunch ( a mix of daal (lentils) and rice), reading on the porch or roof, Hindi lessons, dinner (the same as breakfast and dinner) and then sleep. While the work sometimes changed from day to day, our main project was to demolish the broken roof and wall of a house and then to rebuild the walls and roof of the house making it slightly bigger in the process. The days of work were quite difficult, but I learned a ton including how to build a wall with mud and stones and how to design a cement roof, got to use lots of awesome tools, and had fun playing with the children who lived in the house and surrounding area.
On our time off from work we would either relax on the roof, which had a incredible view of the surrounding valley, do our laundry on the floor of the outdoor shower, and do the mile long hike up the valley and into town to buy snacks and supplies and to call home from one of the stores in the town.
After about two weeks we finished work on the house and then a few days later made the long drive from Kanda back to Kathgodam, where we caught the overnight train back to Delhi. This time we stopped in Delhi for a few days and explored a little bit of the city. During these two days we went shopping for new Indian clothes in the Karol Bagh market and in the fancy stores of Connaught Place, went for a walking through the slums near the new railway station and learned about the life of street children, visited the India Gate ( a huge British War Memorial) and the Birla House (where Gandhi spent his final days and was assassinated) and ate huge meals savoring the vast variety of flavors that we had missed while we were in the mountains. After two days, we left Delhi and took another train, the longest one yet, to Varanasi, my new home and the city I will begin writing about soon.
After arriving in Delhi on August 31st, we quickly left the heat and chaos of the city taking an overnight train to the city in Kathgodam, which is located in the northern province of Uttaranchal. After leaving the train we drove, on the most narrow and twisty roads I have ever seen from Kathgodam to Kausani, a small beautiful town high in the Himalayan foothills. We spent five days in Kausani at an incredibly beautiful hotel, where we had a short orientation, got to know our two instructors, Christina and Genevieve, and began Hindi lessons with our first teacher Binit. We spent most of our time, however, reading, relaxing, practicing yoga and , in my case, recovering from illness, on the deck of the hotel, which looked out on the real, snow capped Himalayas many miles away,
After Kausani we moved deeper into the foothills to the small, isolated, and very rural Kanda Valley. We stayed in Kanda for a little over weeks at an "NGO" (it was essentially a family who rented out rooms in their house to foreigners who want to come volunteer in India) called ROSE or Rural Organization for Social Enhancement. Most days in Kanda consisted of waking up early for a breakfast of chapati (basically tortillas) and sabji (cooked vegetables) , doing manual labor all morning at one of the work sites, lunch ( a mix of daal (lentils) and rice), reading on the porch or roof, Hindi lessons, dinner (the same as breakfast and dinner) and then sleep. While the work sometimes changed from day to day, our main project was to demolish the broken roof and wall of a house and then to rebuild the walls and roof of the house making it slightly bigger in the process. The days of work were quite difficult, but I learned a ton including how to build a wall with mud and stones and how to design a cement roof, got to use lots of awesome tools, and had fun playing with the children who lived in the house and surrounding area.
On our time off from work we would either relax on the roof, which had a incredible view of the surrounding valley, do our laundry on the floor of the outdoor shower, and do the mile long hike up the valley and into town to buy snacks and supplies and to call home from one of the stores in the town.
After about two weeks we finished work on the house and then a few days later made the long drive from Kanda back to Kathgodam, where we caught the overnight train back to Delhi. This time we stopped in Delhi for a few days and explored a little bit of the city. During these two days we went shopping for new Indian clothes in the Karol Bagh market and in the fancy stores of Connaught Place, went for a walking through the slums near the new railway station and learned about the life of street children, visited the India Gate ( a huge British War Memorial) and the Birla House (where Gandhi spent his final days and was assassinated) and ate huge meals savoring the vast variety of flavors that we had missed while we were in the mountains. After two days, we left Delhi and took another train, the longest one yet, to Varanasi, my new home and the city I will begin writing about soon.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Mantras
Sorry for those of you who read this already, but for those who didn't this was written for Dragons during our stay in the mountain:
Mantras
Since our arrival at Princeton, and continuing throughout our early days in India, we have listened to many discussions about mission statements and messages to adhere to during our year abroad. Lizzie, however, has already eloquently and skillfully told you about our group mission statement, so I am going to move away from the many broad and dramatic statements that we have written down and instead focus on a smaller and more personal statement that I have taken to heart.
When I first saw these words, which I have now adopted as my mantra, I definitely did not immediately recognize the wisdom hidden within them; in fact, I had quite the opposite reaction. I laughed at what I regarded as an Indian government official’s poor attempt at writing in English and then realizing that the sign was supposed to serve as a speed limit tightened my grip on the seat in front of me and looked worriedly at the road ahead. It was only later, in a conversation with Genevieve about yogis and the mantras that they can bestow on their followers that I realized that in the form of a road sign India had bestowed a mantra upon me.
So, I can’t go on discussing it any longer without actually writing it, I adopted the words “No Race No Rally, Enjoy the Valley,” to be my personal spiritual mantra to guide me in both my attempts to meditate and absorb Indian life over the next nine months. As a mantra this saying will function for me as a device to protect my mind and through repetition to cleanse it of unnecessary and distracting thought, thus allowing me to focus on solely on my inner goals.
It may appear that, by choosing the first road sign I see to become something as important as my mantra, I am being a bit hasty, however, there is no need to worry. Over our multiple drives through the mountains India has presented me with many options from which to choose my mantra, however, neither “We like you, but not your speed,” nor “Divorce your speed not your Wife” seemed to apply quite as well to the year ahead.
At the risk of being cliché, I have settled upon my chosen mantra for the reason that it contains within it a simple truth, which embodies much of my reasoning in my decision to take a year off from school. Throughout high school it often felt as if I was constantly rushing forward for no reason other than to get to what came next. Needless to say this type of life left me exhausted and looking for a break and a different perspective. Thus, I am hoping that now, with the help of a road sign, I can begin to put my mission on the right path.
Mantras
Since our arrival at Princeton, and continuing throughout our early days in India, we have listened to many discussions about mission statements and messages to adhere to during our year abroad. Lizzie, however, has already eloquently and skillfully told you about our group mission statement, so I am going to move away from the many broad and dramatic statements that we have written down and instead focus on a smaller and more personal statement that I have taken to heart.
When I first saw these words, which I have now adopted as my mantra, I definitely did not immediately recognize the wisdom hidden within them; in fact, I had quite the opposite reaction. I laughed at what I regarded as an Indian government official’s poor attempt at writing in English and then realizing that the sign was supposed to serve as a speed limit tightened my grip on the seat in front of me and looked worriedly at the road ahead. It was only later, in a conversation with Genevieve about yogis and the mantras that they can bestow on their followers that I realized that in the form of a road sign India had bestowed a mantra upon me.
So, I can’t go on discussing it any longer without actually writing it, I adopted the words “No Race No Rally, Enjoy the Valley,” to be my personal spiritual mantra to guide me in both my attempts to meditate and absorb Indian life over the next nine months. As a mantra this saying will function for me as a device to protect my mind and through repetition to cleanse it of unnecessary and distracting thought, thus allowing me to focus on solely on my inner goals.
It may appear that, by choosing the first road sign I see to become something as important as my mantra, I am being a bit hasty, however, there is no need to worry. Over our multiple drives through the mountains India has presented me with many options from which to choose my mantra, however, neither “We like you, but not your speed,” nor “Divorce your speed not your Wife” seemed to apply quite as well to the year ahead.
At the risk of being cliché, I have settled upon my chosen mantra for the reason that it contains within it a simple truth, which embodies much of my reasoning in my decision to take a year off from school. Throughout high school it often felt as if I was constantly rushing forward for no reason other than to get to what came next. Needless to say this type of life left me exhausted and looking for a break and a different perspective. Thus, I am hoping that now, with the help of a road sign, I can begin to put my mission on the right path.
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