tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12850453655820270972024-03-13T19:49:52.235-07:00Letters from HyderabadKyle and Katrina's adventures in IndiaKatrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-23622061782521707642014-07-03T07:08:00.000-07:002014-07-03T07:52:04.630-07:00Varanasi from my phone<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As we got oriented to this crazy, crazy city I didn't want to lug around my larger camera, so here are a few phone pics. We took a boat ride and watched a Hindu ceremony, saw a dead cow drifting downriver, and lit a few candles. This place is magical and absolutely insane.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dzJSQUVHEUY/U7UhvmeO7_I/AAAAAAAADwI/Rirhk4AR49A/s1600/20140702_155627.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dzJSQUVHEUY/U7UhvmeO7_I/AAAAAAAADwI/Rirhk4AR49A/s1600/20140702_155627.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical street</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q42-XWrCXLs/U7UhQ2vGePI/AAAAAAAADvs/N8Jy1tQuegw/s1600/20140702_174743.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q42-XWrCXLs/U7UhQ2vGePI/AAAAAAAADvs/N8Jy1tQuegw/s1600/20140702_174743.mp4" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Cricket match next to the river</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I1wRGs5hIw4/U7UhA_iIRvI/AAAAAAAADvU/8T0kiFxg8bc/s1600/20140702_183425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I1wRGs5hIw4/U7UhA_iIRvI/AAAAAAAADvU/8T0kiFxg8bc/s1600/20140702_183425.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kyle got to row row row our boat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-asUA35hQF7w/U7UhG48mqVI/AAAAAAAADvc/ToBRw71yRZc/s1600/20140702_182328.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-asUA35hQF7w/U7UhG48mqVI/AAAAAAAADvc/ToBRw71yRZc/s1600/20140702_182328.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ganges grins</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wt5vYBDzSfE/U7UhLNZPE2I/AAAAAAAADvk/mhxoRheq6uM/s1600/20140702_182613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wt5vYBDzSfE/U7UhLNZPE2I/AAAAAAAADvk/mhxoRheq6uM/s1600/20140702_182613.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We lit a few candles to set forth on the river</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A ghat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-btNQbEy_FTg/U7UhngQnxmI/AAAAAAAADwA/ZtH-yTpdrsU/s1600/20140702_180256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-btNQbEy_FTg/U7UhngQnxmI/AAAAAAAADwA/ZtH-yTpdrsU/s1600/20140702_180256.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cremation ghat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LuzSVKI-0VM/U7UhX6-mEdI/AAAAAAAADvw/LAuhiYitiq4/s1600/20140702_155411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LuzSVKI-0VM/U7UhX6-mEdI/AAAAAAAADvw/LAuhiYitiq4/s1600/20140702_155411.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visited a silk-making and finishing section of town</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our "friend" T who helped show us around was really concerned when we crossed streets and held both arms up to stop cars (not that it worked)</td></tr>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-80711565799202516752014-07-03T06:48:00.001-07:002014-07-03T06:58:57.794-07:00HEAL Foundation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The real reason for this second trip to India is to get involved permanently with an organization we met here last time. When we worked with them before, we knew them as SAPID, but now we're on the U.S. team and altogether it's called HEAL.<br />
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When we were in India last time, we worked with several local Indian organizations, and all of them were impressive, but HEAL was the one I worked with the most. I studied international development and behavior change in college, and<b> they do everything so right! Their work is so grassroots, so empowerment-based, so self-reliance focused. </b>Meera, the organization's head, is easily among the most amazing people I've ever met.</div>
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Without getting too much into the details, HEAL's process is to enter a community and just build relationships for 6 months to a year, which allows them to really gain trust and respect so that programs will actually do good. After a little while, HEAL helps communities organize themselves and decide what they want to work on. HEAL helps communities with<b> health education, access to local resources such as hospitals and government ration cards, sanitation, water, women's empowerment groups, and education.</b></div>
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I could go on and on, but I won't. I will probably post more about my favorite programs later (I'm writing up case studies as we speak). For more info, visit <a href="http://www.thehealfoundation.org/">www.thehealfoundation.org</a> - though I believe there will some improvements soon.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iu5st1270iQ/U7VPzer1kBI/AAAAAAAADwo/uZmkem8p7ps/s1600/DSCF9226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iu5st1270iQ/U7VPzer1kBI/AAAAAAAADwo/uZmkem8p7ps/s1600/DSCF9226.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What slums look like before HEAL</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4bZdCvaNrcU/U7VP3Yq41gI/AAAAAAAADxA/lAssg6AKc0I/s1600/DSCF9297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4bZdCvaNrcU/U7VP3Yq41gI/AAAAAAAADxA/lAssg6AKc0I/s1600/DSCF9297.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A HEAL community with gardens and permanent structures</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few of the amazing HEAL India ladies (also known as SAPID)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8VwNCWmi6Vc/U7VPzj3iDsI/AAAAAAAADws/lcNNY5xgUDI/s1600/DSCF9277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8VwNCWmi6Vc/U7VPzj3iDsI/AAAAAAAADws/lcNNY5xgUDI/s1600/DSCF9277.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A woman's group leader telling us about her community and the improvements they've made</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hywBKHmpjYE/U7VP_JjHxzI/AAAAAAAADxI/VcMlwwL_lso/s1600/DSCF9327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hywBKHmpjYE/U7VP_JjHxzI/AAAAAAAADxI/VcMlwwL_lso/s1600/DSCF9327.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A HEAL preschool (I also helped paint this two years ago, so it's extra special)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8YsmflW2Siw/U7VP_tdMx3I/AAAAAAAADxM/08wSKEIo6tw/s1600/DSCF9382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8YsmflW2Siw/U7VP_tdMx3I/AAAAAAAADxM/08wSKEIo6tw/s1600/DSCF9382.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A health clinic for community members to get free medical advice from doctors (and med students)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s1v5K5altlI/U7VQBbLhHwI/AAAAAAAADxY/ePvqdBWSW8Y/s1600/DSCF9412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s1v5K5altlI/U7VQBbLhHwI/AAAAAAAADxY/ePvqdBWSW8Y/s1600/DSCF9412.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little lady was adorable and wouldn't leave me alone</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uSgB85gn4t0/U7VQdfxc4II/AAAAAAAADxo/DOyp_KNmnzg/s1600/DSCF9465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uSgB85gn4t0/U7VQdfxc4II/AAAAAAAADxo/DOyp_KNmnzg/s1600/DSCF9465.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mothers here want the world for their babies</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0WKyNN7ZUzk/U7VQTXH2pjI/AAAAAAAADxg/viWHrcgbUW8/s1600/DSCF9490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0WKyNN7ZUzk/U7VQTXH2pjI/AAAAAAAADxg/viWHrcgbUW8/s1600/DSCF9490.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing with the kids</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wikS66zy8Ms/U7VQjTRfmPI/AAAAAAAADxw/zCDN52Aj6YY/s1600/DSCF9511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wikS66zy8Ms/U7VQjTRfmPI/AAAAAAAADxw/zCDN52Aj6YY/s1600/DSCF9511.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This woman found out we were married and proceeded to tell us to have a baby. It's quite a funny story actually :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6hAtd8n21J8/U7VQvFi4ZlI/AAAAAAAADx4/SgaRbT2xvII/s1600/DSCF9534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6hAtd8n21J8/U7VQvFi4ZlI/AAAAAAAADx4/SgaRbT2xvII/s1600/DSCF9534.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the HEAL team at a Bollywood movie</td></tr>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-88756403059009771172014-06-17T09:50:00.001-07:002014-07-03T06:58:14.518-07:00At work in Hyderabad<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We're finally here - the real purpose of the trip. It's so good to be back! I don't have pictures at the moment (I left my SD card at home), but I do want to share a bit of the last few days.<br />
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We arrived late Sunday after a few flight delays, and then got straight to work on Monday. We had a sweet reunion with Meera and Urmi from HEAL/SAPID, as well as the rest of the staff. These women are so amazing! They have such an understanding of empowerment and are so dedicated to the communities and individuals they work with. <br />
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I haven't explained this well before, but Kyle and I have now joined HEAL - an organization that does work in Hyderabad slums. We're on the U.S. team, which helps with all the non-ground work. So this trip is largely to present some findings from the first official community surveys completed last year, and to improve the survey for this year.<br />
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The results are really fantastic. Two BYU graduate teams analyzed the data and the results were overwhelmingly positive. For example, HEAL communities have an average of half the needed vaccinations, verses non-HEAL communities that have 29% - and this relationship holds true with constraints and are statistically significant. That's just one of many really amazing things we've learned from this progress report. I'm sure I'll share more on this later, and the website is being updated so I'm sure it will have them as well.<br />
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So we spend Monday having discussions about findings, and then today we went and visited a few different communities. First we met with a women's empowerment group. We learned about the successes they've had with loans they've given to each other, and the other ways they support one another. It's all really inspiring. We'll be getting some case studies next week for the website, so if you're curious I can post more info on that later.<br />
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Other communities we visited had impressive strengths in gardening, community cohesion, and income generation programs for women. I am amazed at the work being done!<br />
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That's all for now. Going to get some rest for the night! Namasgaram! (Telegu form of Namaste)<br />
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-57067636047228635702014-06-14T09:53:00.000-07:002014-06-23T06:37:04.922-07:00Triund: Our little trek into the Himalaya<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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There isn't much to say that pictures can't tell on this one. Unfortunately, it's taking forever to load photos, so you only get a few. They don't quite do it justice either - it was gorgeous! To think we almost didn't go.</div>
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The hike was about 7km (4.3 miles) one-way. All the travel books/blogs we read said it would take 3-4 hours to get up, but we booked it in just under 1:45 (the way down took longer though - trying to save the knees!). The elevation change was about 900 meters (just under 3000 feet), so it was pretty much 100% uphill one-way. Many people camp overnight, which would be pretty neat but we weren't prepared and didn't have time. Plus, we were super quick and it was nice to pack light.</div>
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One quick funny thing - we noticed that many Indians liked to take shortcuts. One group of middle-aged adults took a "shortcut" up a really steep hill just to cut off literally only 20 feet of switchback. The climb was so tough that it definitely took them longer. But it was shorter! :)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most of the path was created by stony steps</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the path (we forgot to get one at the top somehow)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pack mules bringing up supplies for tiny shops. These shops charged double because of the difficulty (I was surprised it wasn't more!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cfMqWmvRo3o/U5xxw3TOFKI/AAAAAAAADt4/egoA3ABFf-M/s1600/DSCF9111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cfMqWmvRo3o/U5xxw3TOFKI/AAAAAAAADt4/egoA3ABFf-M/s1600/DSCF9111.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A temple at the top</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b_v5YEoPxE/U5xyJeAM8KI/AAAAAAAADuA/naImXqfs_dc/s1600/DSCF9114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b_v5YEoPxE/U5xyJeAM8KI/AAAAAAAADuA/naImXqfs_dc/s1600/DSCF9114.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The top, showing some shops and campsites</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kyle enjoying life at the top</td></tr>
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When we got back, we headed straight for the restaurant we discovered yesterday and ordered the same thing - except this time we knew to share. So good! The evening was spent relaxing (resting our legs) and then we did a bit of shopping on the street. We said goodbye to our friend Wendy, and we'll be heading out to Hyderabad tomorrow. We were here for just the right amount of time to do all we wanted to do, and at a nice pace. We're sad to see this time end, but also very excited to get to work in Hyderabad!</div>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-29108898391319766182014-06-13T09:33:00.000-07:002014-06-13T09:33:38.131-07:00Bhuddist Holiday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The monastery door</td></tr>
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To witness the special day today, we re-visited the monastery and the main temple (where the Dalai Lama lives). A the monastery, the monks were chanting in beautiful, low tones. The mantras mixed with occasional gibberish-type noises made for such a soothing and fascinating sound. We sat on the side for a good half hour just listening and watching.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monks chanting mantras/scripture</td></tr>
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Many Buddhists came to pay their devotions. They entered and did prostration movements and then placed money on the altar and gave some to each monk. Some had kettles, and I thought maybe they contained tea until we saw them outside filling candle-bowls with oil. I need to look up more about this practice. Many also carried prayer beads, which we think are pretty neat.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">People brought kettles of oil and went around the table to refill these candles/lamps<br />
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Many stairs later, we visited the main temple, which was far busier. I didn't get any pictures here because they don't allow cameras, but it was also neat. The biggest difference was that there were many beggars that gathered because Buddhists tend to give donations during this time. We were told by our friend Wendy (who we've been going around with for the past two days) that giving water might be a good idea, so we bought two 2 liter jugs to pour water into cups and hands and mouths. Some didn't really need the water, but some did, and it was nice to have something to give.<br />
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Afterwards, we searched around for a restaurant and ended up having an amazing meal. Too amazing - I way overate. It was a Thali - meaning a lunch plate with several small cups of different curries/dishes and rice and bread. Included were a few new things that we found out we LOVE - shahi paneer, dal makhani, and makhani paneer. I think they're more north Indian, and I hope we can find them in the U.S.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The best meal we've had - Bhagsu Thal </td></tr>
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We rested for a little while, got cheep massages, and then I went to my cooking class. We made yellow dal (lentils) and aloo ghobi (vegetable dish) along with chapati/roti (bread) - probably the most basic, staple Indian foods. They were delicious, and I hope I can re-create them!<br />
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Now we're exhausted. We have been getting up a little after 5am because of the sunrise, but not getting to bed as early as we should with that in mind. Anyway, this morning we walked a few miles to swim in a pool fed by the mountain water. I didn't end up swimming, but Kyle did, and it was cold!<br />
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Below are some misc street pictures - finally a quicker upload! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L6F2nVCGUyk/U5sgALAYLnI/AAAAAAAADs4/6Dsl5dQOXB8/s1600/DSCF9030.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L6F2nVCGUyk/U5sgALAYLnI/AAAAAAAADs4/6Dsl5dQOXB8/s1600/DSCF9030.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A street view of McLeod<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buddhist prayer wheels in the middle of town</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some street wares</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">McLeod at night<br />
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-54626795296695545432014-06-12T10:24:00.000-07:002014-06-12T10:24:15.133-07:00McLeod Ganj<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This beautiful town is probably most famous for being the residence of the Dalai Lama, and we have loved seeing the beautiful maroon and orange robes of monks and nuns roaming the streets. We've seen a lot more tourists here and we can see why. Not only is it beautiful, but the vibe here is much more chill than in larger Indian cities and there are lots of things to do.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another view - you can see our pink hotel across the way</td></tr>
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So far, we have climbed to a waterfall and played in Himalaya water, visited a Buddhist monastery and a temple, taken a tour of the Tibetan Children's Village, and I've taken a yoga class. Tomorrow is a big Buddhist holiday because it marks the anniversaries of Buddha's birth, enlightenment, and nirvana, so we'll be visiting the smaller monastery again to see what's going down. I'm also going to take an Indian cooking class, and maybe a Tibetan one too. So much to do here, and all within walking distance. It's wonderful.<br />
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Visiting the monastery was so interesting. We followed a steep side road down a hill until we came to some stairs. 301 stairs later (Kyle counted), we reached the monastery. Unsure of the protocol, we slowly made our way into their main building. I felt a sort of reverence and wanted to be respectful, but I also realized something that might seem obvious to others - the monk boys are still boys!<br />
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Apparently it was a special cleaning day (because of the holiday Friday), so we saw boys finish with drum practice and then haul around a ladder so that widows could be cleaned. Half the time they seemed to carry it just for fun, because they would always bring it back to the same spot afterwards. Another boy came in rolling a small wheel-shaped magnet attached to a string, fixing it each time it fell over. It was just so fun to see them play.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cleaning day at the monastery</td></tr>
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We also met an older monk when everyone came out for lunch, and we got to talk with him for a while. He's the one who told us about Friday, and he answered some other questions we had. His name was Nyima, meaning "sun" in Tibetan. We've met some other Tibetans since and we love how their names all seem to have meaning.<br />
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A few-mile walk to the Tibetan Children's Village along a tree-covered road was well worth it. The organization houses and teaches Tibetan children who are orphaned or are from destitute families within India. It was a nice campus, and the children were cute. While there, we met a Tibetan woman and her children who actually live in Austria.<br />
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After, she invited us to tea (even though we didn't drink any) and we got to talk for a good hour or two. She had attended TCV as a child, then got married to an Austrian who had been doing service there as a young man. They moved to Austria and she brought her children to attend the school to learn about Tibetan culture. But they were not having it and were in the process of returning home. It was lovely spending time talking with them and exchanging stories. Her 13 year-old daughter was full of fun facts about disgusting foods and world news. Of course, they all speak at least three languages - German, Tibetan, and English. People like this make me want to learn another language!<br />
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I'm so glad we have a few more days here!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Vs7boNnH4w/U5ndVy4wGAI/AAAAAAAADrA/mtYiEdF868A/s1600/DSCF8918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Vs7boNnH4w/U5ndVy4wGAI/AAAAAAAADrA/mtYiEdF868A/s1600/DSCF8918.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the monastery</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful monastery doors</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wpo4cnwOL1U/U5neEjri75I/AAAAAAAADrI/CmsbKph1FQQ/s1600/DSCF8929.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wpo4cnwOL1U/U5neEjri75I/AAAAAAAADrI/CmsbKph1FQQ/s1600/DSCF8929.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buddhist writings</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YXlrfZMvGM8/U5neopjrAxI/AAAAAAAADrg/frmi5sbhVLE/s1600/DSCF8963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YXlrfZMvGM8/U5neopjrAxI/AAAAAAAADrg/frmi5sbhVLE/s1600/DSCF8963.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The water is so clear beneath the waterfall!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TS6kmnnB1as/U5neeRPTcxI/AAAAAAAADrY/OzkV2NKfTIQ/s1600/DSCF8946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TS6kmnnB1as/U5neeRPTcxI/AAAAAAAADrY/OzkV2NKfTIQ/s1600/DSCF8946.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On our walk to the waterfall, we watched these two monk boys and thought it was cute how the smaller one kept his hand on the other</td></tr>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-4700091958555547452014-06-12T08:17:00.000-07:002014-06-12T08:17:11.200-07:00To the Himalaya<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Delhi has a really impressive metro, which was great for saving rupees getting to the airport. Our plane to Dharamshala was small and nowhere near full and the flight was quick. The landing, however, was the shakiest either of us have ever experienced - we came in so fast and steep we really did hold our breath for a but... but it finally stabilized. Phew.<br />
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Now picture an apartment complex down a narrow one-lane dirt road in the middle of nowhere. That's where we found out the room we'd rented was. It was beautiful, but we were absolutely stranded and much further from our destination than we expected. There was no internet and we don't have a phone, and our housekeeper spoke very broken English.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vecBEsgOpBg/U5m1ICDb9WI/AAAAAAAADo8/V1eaE8Xka1g/s1600/DSCF8910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vecBEsgOpBg/U5m1ICDb9WI/AAAAAAAADo8/V1eaE8Xka1g/s1600/DSCF8910.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rice fields with our apartment room in the background</td></tr>
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Eventually, we communicated well enough to get to an internet cafe and change our hotel plans. But we were really glad for the mistake, because the walk to the cafe took us through fallow rice fields, a grain mill on a stream, and the housekeeper's residence. We met his family, who lived in a family home along with his mother and brothers and their wives. They had goats and their own little shrine-temple (not sure what it is called). It was so nice out there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XnbtldvYIY/U5m1BI_MOPI/AAAAAAAADos/QKTFLuchE50/s1600/DSCF8908.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--XnbtldvYIY/U5m1BI_MOPI/AAAAAAAADos/QKTFLuchE50/s1600/DSCF8908.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He showed us his mill on the stream running next to their home</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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But alas, we needed to get up the mountain slopes! So we took a taxi up the winding hillside, narrowly missing oncoming traffic on roads barely barely barely wide enough for two cars (and sometimes not that wide). The drive was so steep! We were amazed that the little taxi we were in could make it, and a little scared on some of the hairpin turns.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oimWQVebfnU/U5m1E3AkH1I/AAAAAAAADo0/1uCHIzRO8GM/s1600/DSCF8911.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oimWQVebfnU/U5m1E3AkH1I/AAAAAAAADo0/1uCHIzRO8GM/s1600/DSCF8911.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our steep climb up the mountain began</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The hassle was all so worth it! McLeod Ganj is a breath of fresh air. It's enchanting staying here at the base of the Himalaya, and it's very different than other parts of India we've visited. There is a mix of Indian and Tibetan culture since so many refugees live here. So far, we have really loved it.<br />
<br />
A full post on McLeod Ganj to come. For now, enjoy some phone photos of the views we have from our hotel.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oY1AHtiGgZc/U5nCm0IcSAI/AAAAAAAADpU/0NaOYQPMZ1s/s1600/20140610_183425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oY1AHtiGgZc/U5nCm0IcSAI/AAAAAAAADpU/0NaOYQPMZ1s/s1600/20140610_183425.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From our hotel roof</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These slopes are so colorful!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-84091381731395118542014-06-10T21:11:00.002-07:002014-06-10T21:11:42.747-07:00Favorite people in Delhi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodbye, Claire!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On our last morning, we visited the Tibet House with Claire. It was small but really fascinating. We got to see lots of Tibetan artifacts and learned a bit about Tibet and Buddhism. We spent a good hour in the library there, skimming Buddhist books and admiring old Tibetan writings wrapped in cloths in all shades of orange.<br />
<br />
Then we parted with Claire (sadly), and headed to the Lodi Gardens - a free park with shrubbery, ruins, and even a running track around it. We saw several couples, and even one getting fresh (a first for us here), so apparently it's the place for dates. The best part of all: there were sprinklers running in one section, and we just happened to stay on that path for a while. It was quite refreshing.<br />
<br />
We went to Maggie's mom's house for the evening, and Maggie cooked up an amazing chicken curry! It was wonderful to be in their home, talking and getting to know them better. Maggie and Raju, her husband, are hoping to attend BYU-Hawaii, and we are so excited for them. We felt so blessed by their kindness and generosity-they have such loving hearts. It was by far my favorite experience so far. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maggie, her son Jeffrey, her husband Raju, and her mother and niece<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-31wbnUys3kI/U5fKe6EMxgI/AAAAAAAADnk/pAIrPqltc98/s1600/DSCF8871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-31wbnUys3kI/U5fKe6EMxgI/AAAAAAAADnk/pAIrPqltc98/s1600/DSCF8871.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lodi Gardens</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lJg3M8EhF8g/U5fJZX8BVjI/AAAAAAAADnQ/pCbeco2gMPY/s1600/DSCF8880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lJg3M8EhF8g/U5fJZX8BVjI/AAAAAAAADnQ/pCbeco2gMPY/s1600/DSCF8880.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Muslim tomb in the Lodi Gardens</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LzSjt9o9gTc/U5fKVPeMSxI/AAAAAAAADnc/kezYrQi8pWo/s1600/DSCF8889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LzSjt9o9gTc/U5fKVPeMSxI/AAAAAAAADnc/kezYrQi8pWo/s1600/DSCF8889.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two-liter water bottles are half my size</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bUz8SqPdvmo/U5fKo58UadI/AAAAAAAADns/3jMMBI_Y78Y/s1600/DSCF8893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bUz8SqPdvmo/U5fKo58UadI/AAAAAAAADns/3jMMBI_Y78Y/s1600/DSCF8893.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Headed home</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-80692019614196034522014-06-10T20:05:00.000-07:002014-06-10T20:05:32.007-07:00Another hot Delhi day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Going to church in India is always so wonderful and refreshing. Not only is it nice to have something familiar (and AC...), but the peace and spirit inside church are just what you need after a week in of bustling streets and busy activities. The members are so faithful and pure, and we so enjoy their testimonies and lessons. It always reminds us of what matters most, and inspires us to live more fully Christ's teachings. The branch we attended actually had a handful of people from Africa, and some refugees from Burma, and there were several sets of missionaries. <br />
<br />
We met Maggie there along with her husband and their brand new baby- Maggie served a mission in New Zealand with Kyle. It was so nice to see them! We previously hoped to spend the evening with them, but they had plans with family, so we decided to visit a few more places in Delhi. It worked out well too, because we found out that most historical attractions are closed on Mondays.<br />
<br />
So we met up with Claire and visited <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Fort" target="_blank">Red Fort</a> and then wandered through the bazaars of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chandni_Chowk" target="_blank">Chandi Chowk</a> until we reached the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jama_Masjid,_Delhi" target="_blank">Jama Masjid</a>. We came just in time to enter the functioning mosque, and we ladies had to don robes so that we were covered. A bit after we left it was time for the call to prayer, which was really beautiful to listen to as we sat on the steps just outside.<br />
<br />
In the heat we do not get very hungry, so we usually just eat one meal after breakfast - a combined lunch/dinner around 3 or 4. We decided to try paratha, a fried, stuffed Indian bread - they reminded us of papusas, but with more options for filling. I got one with mixed vegetables, Kyle got one with aloo (potatoes), and then we shared one filled with paneer (Indian cheese). And bonus - they came with a plate of sauces/curries/I'm not sure what to call them. As best we could ascertain, you dip in them and eat them plain on the side. It was so cheap, and so delicious!<br />
<br />
I wish we could post more pictures - they just take so long to load! And I'll admit, I really don't whip out my camera that much. I like enjoying the moment without it sometimes. And other times when I really want it out I feel uncomfortable because it's just not the right setting for it. So here are our few for now :) <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Fort's outer gate - very impressive!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our paratha maker</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The back of Jama Masjid with lots of birds (if you can see them)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SV1U9wqWD0w/U5e6bXlxRdI/AAAAAAAADms/Zs2B03v3gIE/s1600/DSCF8854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SV1U9wqWD0w/U5e6bXlxRdI/AAAAAAAADms/Zs2B03v3gIE/s1600/DSCF8854.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jama Masjid</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UvTRnrvjfnI/U5e66xO4MhI/AAAAAAAADnE/Zy74cLCg4dM/s1600/DSCF8867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UvTRnrvjfnI/U5e66xO4MhI/AAAAAAAADnE/Zy74cLCg4dM/s1600/DSCF8867.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cement cart</td></tr>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-28637834021966061442014-06-10T10:15:00.001-07:002014-06-10T10:15:57.976-07:00Traveling buddy!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We gained a traveling buddy on day two – her name is Claire.
She stayed at the same guesthouse we did, and we made a perfect match to go
around Delhi together. A friend of hers just got married here in India, so she
came to attend. Since she’s doing TFA, she has summer break and gets to stay in
India a while. It’s always more fun to have people to share experiences with,
and Claire was a great companion. Also, it made it very convenient to get
pictures with both of us together.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Of course we visited some great tourist spots – <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lotus_Temple" target="_blank">Lotus Temple</a>,
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qutub_Minar" target="_blank">Qutub Minar</a>, and an almost-empty public park with tombs and ruins scattered
throughout. </div>
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Lotus temple was especially interesting to me because it was
a Baha’i place of worship. I can’t remember ever studying about the Baha’i
faith before, but it was really interesting. From the little I understand, they
believe all faiths are different paths to one great truth, and they read from
several books of scripture during the short fifteen minute service we attended.
There was also some beautiful singing by an Indian woman, and the acoustics
were really neat – she sounded like multiple people as her echoes cradled her
voice.</div>
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We ended the day (as all days here in Delhi) very exhausted,
and we fall asleep early. The 115 degree weather really sucks it out of you.
But boy, do I sleep well!</div>
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Here are some pictures! I'm having a difficult time loading them, and they look super huge when I uploaded them, so I had to make them smaller. I hope they are still big enough for everyone to see (at this point, I can't tell). </div>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-77046376346181849502014-06-06T20:18:00.000-07:002014-06-06T20:18:02.754-07:00Day 1: Delhi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We're just waiting for our housekeeper to make us breakfast, so I thought I'd give a little update.<br />
<br />
Yesterday was great - we felt less jet-lagged than last time. We think it's a combo of flying business class (being able to lay down helps sleep a bit), knowing what to expect, and because so far Delhi seems quite nice. Though the skies are hazy, the pollution doesn't get to me as much as in Hyderabad, the streets are much nicer (no potholes and less buses), and there are less beggars. Maybe it's because we've only visited a few sections, but that's our impression so far.<br />
<br />
We visited a tomb (insert name later...) that the Taj Mahal was fashioned after, Gandhi's martyrdom site, and Nehru's home-turned-museum. Kyle was loving the historical stuff. He wonders why he didn't decide to become a history professor.<br />
<br />
I'll put a few pictures up below. I've only seen them in thumbnail form, so hopefully they're decent.<br />
<br />
Here are some of the favorite little things so far.<br />
<br />
Guy selling us our water: "Where you're from?"<br />
Us: "U.S."<br />
Guy: "Where's the 'A'? Haha"<br />
<br />
Auto drivers are un-pleasantly surprised that we know how to barter. "It's a good price, come, come" - not!<br />
<br />
We love riding in rickshaws again!<br />
<br />
Two power outages so far! Including one while trying to upload pictures to this post! But they've only been a half-hour each, which is cake.<br />
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-39438564920187098392014-06-06T06:12:00.001-07:002014-06-06T06:20:39.090-07:00The way over<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Well, we made it! Originally, on our flight from Frankfurt to Delhi our seats were not next to each other. I was bummed. When we checked they said the flight was full so we couldn't change seats. Then, during boarding our tickets wouldn't scan, and we found out it was because we'd been upgraded to business class. Best.flight.ever.<br />
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Another great thing - we were planning to buy a phone here, but when we landed t-mobile informed me that texting is free, and calls are 20 cents per minute if we really need to call. So great! oh, and it's not "texting" here - it's SMS. Remembered that today when our driver was confused by Kyle asking him if he recieved texts.</div>
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Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-65586677962875359652014-06-02T11:39:00.001-07:002014-06-02T11:39:01.426-07:00Returning<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hello everyone!<br />
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We're returning to India this Wednesday (well, we land Friday), so we may start this blog up again if there's enough room left for picture storage. If not, I'll post a link to a new blog soon.<br />
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And who knows? Maybe we'll even keep blogging when we're back in the US - imagine that.<br />
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Love you all!<br />
<br />
Kyle and Katrina</div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-23050947119960110182012-10-22T20:14:00.000-07:002012-10-22T20:15:40.332-07:00Gabbar Singh<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I know we're not in India anymore, but humor me. There's so much to say that hasn't been said.<br />
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Today while I was making dinner I was feeling especially nostalgic, so I turned on some Indian music.<br />
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The most popular pop culture thing among almost everyone while we were in Hyderabad was a the recent Tollywood hit - Gabbar Singh. (Tollywood is Telegu cinema, as opposed to Hindi in Bollywood). The music was everywhere. All the time.<br />
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At first it was so fun. We might have made a few music videos.<br />
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But then it became a little grating. Over and over and over. Luckily, just before we left another movie - Eega - was becoming the big hit.<br />
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But now I secretly miss it. Here's one of my favorite songs from Gabbar Singh. Enjoy.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5-0-dHCH-7s" width="560"></iframe><br />
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(In case you just need more, here's another good one: http://youtu.be/RHulK9Tj7r4)</div>
Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-23550042643640464272012-07-31T08:18:00.000-07:002012-07-31T08:24:30.226-07:00Today we [almost] met a woman with no clothes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This morning I woke up to the sounds of our country director Brook shuffling through some extra clothes left behind by a previous volunteer. She'd just recieved a call from our other country director on her morning walk telling us she'd just seen a woman without clothes, trying to wrap herself in plastic bags on the street.<br />
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So she invited Kyle and I to come with her to find this woman and give her a few clothes. It was kind of surreal. Maybe because I just woke up, but I think mostly because it's hard to imagine someone who doesn't even have <i>clothes</i>.<br />
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We walked for a while trying to find her, but we weren't having any luck. Brook asked the question, "Where would I go if I had no clothes?" It resounded in my mind - <i>Where would</i> I<i> go if I had no clothes? </i>I've never had to come close to anything like that.<br />
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It made me think of Matthew 25:36:<br />
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For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: <b>naked, and ye clothed me</b>: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.</div>
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At least, we tried to clothe her, but after a while of searching we decided she had hidden herself somewhere. I was so sad we were unable to find her. I keep thinking about her and wondering if she's found something to wear or found her way home to some clothes.<br />
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Tonight I'm keeping this woman in my prayers. And everyone who is naked or hungry - physically or emotionally or spiritually. I hope that I can always be ready to feed and clothe and visit strangers in need. And I hope I don't take for granted my own clothes.</div>
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</div>Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-68201277734523800842012-07-19T01:03:00.001-07:002012-07-19T01:06:17.275-07:00on life and death<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
yesterday i headed out to the slums for what i thought would be a day of teaching health classes. i guess i should have remembered that the number one rule in india is that things never go as planned. but i guess that's not the point here either.<br />
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after our first very successful alcohol and tobacco class with a great group of men and women, we headed to a second slum to hold another class. when we got there, something was different. it was lacking it's normal feeling of vibrancy - of life. no one was outside, no one was greeting us.<br />
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shortly, we found out that a man in the community had passed away within the last half hour. and it wasn't any man - it was the beneficiary of our first soilet this year, and whose wife we'd helped plant a garden with. we were so sad to hear of his loss.<br />
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the health workers we were with - our translators and friends - invited us to come with them and give our condolences. as we approached, we could hear the wife's cries. arriving at the house, we each hugged her as she continued her heartfelt mourning. i felt her sadness and teared up, but i know i can't begin to understand it. so many years of living with someone, living for someone.<br />
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but on our way to the bus (having forgone the class), our friends pointed out to us some gardens we'd helped to plant. they were sprouting, sprouting with the vibrant green of new life. and so soon after they were planted. it's strange, but it brought me a little hope and a little happiness. it was just such an interesting contrast, and it made me think about life and death and why we're here and how things keep on living, but other things expire.<br />
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i guess don't have any major insights to share with this, but the experience pricked me. i just know that life is beautiful and precious, and it's the same everywhere.<br />
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katrina</div>Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-16910408814793453892012-07-17T06:03:00.002-07:002012-07-17T06:03:51.965-07:00An Evaluator's Experience - Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
One of the families I've had the pleasure of interviewing touched me in a particularly special way. I'll leave their names confidential, but share a photo they gave permission for me to have for personal use. But first, the back-story.<br />
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Water availability has come up this year over and over again as the number one concern of most families in the slums surrounding Hyderabad. The delayed monsoon has amplified the difficulty of the situation. Women spend hours every day waiting in lines and carrying water on their shoulders home - only to find it's not quite enough and that they have to use the same water they cooked with for cleaning those dishes. They only have the time and energy to get enough water to bathe once a week. And the water isn't clean enough to drink anyways, so they have to spend a big chunk of their income on safe water that comes only every-other day in big water trucks.</div>
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Hopefully that gives you a brief sketch of the picture here. Usually the challenge of getting water is such a fiasco, and the water is so heavy, that families reserve this chore for adults. Kids can't really handle it. At least, for most families, besides this particular one. There's four girls - a Mom with three daughters. The mother happens to have some physical and mental handicaps that make it near impossible for her to fetch the water. The task has fallen to her three adolescent daughters. They're the bravest girls I've met here.</div>
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Every day after school they start the trek to find the water. For a long time they had to beg others in neighboring slums for permission to use their pump wells. <span style="background-color: white;">When they finally get permission to use the water, they start pumping (which is no easy task for a child when the water has to be coerced from 400 feet below ground). By the time they carry the water home, they are already late into their homework and hopefully finish before the sun's down (since there's no reliable power for light in their little shanty for light). </span></div>
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Their mom does what she can, and relies on her daughters to do what they can. The best part is that they smile and laugh (except in photos... the get real serious!), and then the way they worked together to help answer my questions... You could see they're close, and that they're a trusting team. Being with them made me grateful for many things. For family, for what I have, and mostly for being here to do what I can for them.</div>
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Evaluators don't get to build new borewells. That's the other hard part about my responsibilities here. But, hopefully HELP will get four borewells drilled nearby this family's little home this summer. That's the plan, and we find out if it gets funded next week. Either way, I'll have no physical hand in the drillilng but perhaps the lessons I'm learning will benefit those who do. Until then, families like these will just keep holding on. </div>
</div>Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-7064913562949390962012-07-14T23:31:00.003-07:002012-07-14T23:31:44.671-07:00An Evaluator's Experiences - Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /><br />Evaluation. Assessment. Loaded words, even outside of India... People automatically feel threatened, judged, and, well, evaluated. No one likes that, and no one likes having their lifelong, personally invested programs and projects looked at by someone else... So sometimes out here, despite my best efforts, I'm the unwanted outsider. That's the challenging, albeit sometimes necessary, part of my job. I want to talk about the beautiful part: the people! I've spent the last couple weeks working with the locals of India, learning about their perspective of the work that's been done for them in past months. It's been a pleasure in more ways than I anticipated.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--FmIVNTEZZE/UAJg6kie6zI/AAAAAAAACRE/iBCR2QvUDek/s1600/IMG_2019.JPG"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--FmIVNTEZZE/UAJg6kie6zI/AAAAAAAACRE/iBCR2QvUDek/s320/IMG_2019.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">A group discussion with women in a Hyderabadi slum</span></i></span></div>
For instance, this last Wednesday I sat down with a group of seven Lombardi women of rural, tribal, impoverished India. They live in a quaint hamlet of only nine homes some two hours outside of Hyderabad, and they have been forgotten by government and exploited by everyone else for years. CARPED and HELP International have been trying to empower and assist them in a variety of ways. I went to find out more.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
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I spent the first two hours just being with them. I was there as they pumped water out of well and carried it around to their homes. They laughed when I tried to help. Apparently, this is not the man's job around here... They also showed me inside their houses, with beautifully painted doorframes, thatched roofs, and the like. Then we sat on a woven mat under the trees, and just talked. As much as possible anyways. This old lady even cracked a lot of jokes about me and laughed and laughed. Apparently my mustache, Indian outfit, and white skin clash a little. :)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cBzIssPI374/UAJhYTirs8I/AAAAAAAACRM/p9Uc1nkRzKM/s1600/IMG_2142.JPG"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cBzIssPI374/UAJhYTirs8I/AAAAAAAACRM/p9Uc1nkRzKM/s320/IMG_2142.JPG" /></a></div>
The evaluation part of things has been successful in many ways, and I'm learning a lot about the work, about the people, and about myself. But the best part has certainly been meeting these individuals that give meaning to the months of preparation, the literature reviewed, the proposals prepared, the interviews practiced. It's the people that indeed are the pleasure of this practice. Thanks India.</div>Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-32106095973681245792012-07-02T05:16:00.000-07:002012-07-02T05:16:06.432-07:00These cuties!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So our cook Jaya not only makes the BEST food, but she also has the CUTEST daughters! We get to play with them every day (at least when we're home in time and they come with their mom), and I am going to miss them sooo much when we go. They are the most well-behaved and beautiful girls.<br />
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Here, now you can fall in love with them too.<br />
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Ruchita - we call her Ruchi for short. It means "taste" - like good taste.<br />
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Poojitha - we call her Pooji. She is a-dorable.<br />
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<br /></div>Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-22475196089689233112012-06-25T04:33:00.001-07:002012-06-25T04:33:40.005-07:00The remnants of history<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white;">Sometimes you get to feel like you’re
living in Lord of the Rings. At least Kyle thinks so because he was in New Zealand for two years. Here in Hyderabad, that same feeling happens at Golconda Fort,
a massive edifice that is left over from the fourteenth century. It’s a
sprawling fortress that is crumbling and decaying, but the biggest single-day
adventure we’ve had so far.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br />The first time we saw Golconda we were just
driving down the road, and all of a sudden this massive castle on a hill came
into view. It was so alarming, like going back in history or perhaps into
Narnia or something. It also helped that the actual road you're driving takes you through the main gate of the massive outer wall, which is 11 km in circumference and so thick it feels like you drove through a short tunnel. It's another kilometer or so from the outer wall to the inner wall and the actual fort itself. It was amazing.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eiDSSWgwVv4/T-hHh91U3MI/AAAAAAAACOI/Wi-SNLleT4k/s1600/IMG_1700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="296" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eiDSSWgwVv4/T-hHh91U3MI/AAAAAAAACOI/Wi-SNLleT4k/s400/IMG_1700.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching the outer wall gate - it appeared after the wall itself opened up and had you go through a gauntlet with two towering walls on both sides... So cool.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">If Golconda was in the US, there would be a
million little signs that say “please stay on the marked path” and little
forest rangers to warn you not to go to far from the main road, and little
museum guards to tell you not to touch anything. There were none of those. You’re as
free as can be. We climbed all over the place, eventually making it to the top
of the hill and into Golconda’s main keep, only to find there really was an
easy path that could have taken us straight there. We liked the rock climbing,
fortress scaling approach better.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Coooool! What's around the next crumbling staircase?"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the ground level - looking across the fort. You can't even tell how far it stretches from here</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r2yzePu1oFI/T-hI8KCt5CI/AAAAAAAACOc/Yo_lq-n_jRk/s1600/DSC_4717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r2yzePu1oFI/T-hI8KCt5CI/AAAAAAAACOc/Yo_lq-n_jRk/s400/DSC_4717.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking up - towards the top and how high you gotta climb. Kyle wasn't looking at the fort though...</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Also, bats. Hundreds of them. The place is
so vast that in broad daylight you can walk into different cavernous rooms
(like the old camel stables) and hear screeching… We decided to investigate,
poked our camera up, took a picture, and then started running. The flash
illuminated thousands of bats just staring down at us with their beady little
eyes. So awesome.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking into the old camel stables - nice place...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-11FxO4OfLc4/T-hI7WyDUgI/AAAAAAAACOY/2iwv0PxVpn4/s1600/DSC_4702.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-11FxO4OfLc4/T-hI7WyDUgI/AAAAAAAACOY/2iwv0PxVpn4/s640/DSC_4702.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Many, many little eyes! Thanks to A.R. from the team for braving the photo!</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">There were so many nooks and crannies that
we could have spent days just exploring and having adventures there. It would
have been the ultimate place for a scout campout, capture the flag,
paintballing, marshmallow gun warring, and the like. It was splendid. Then, the
sun went down while we were at the top, and it was beautiful. We never did learn much of the history of the place - until latter when we had to look it up online. But we did get to steal a kiss on top when no locals were looking. :) Thanks, India,
for the ultimate time!</span><br />
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</div>Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-41945822055640942012-06-24T05:08:00.001-07:002012-06-24T05:08:37.993-07:00Projects Update<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Just realized we need to do a little updating on the work we've got going here.<br />
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Finished projects include: painted two slum schools, coordinated a summer camp, and took photos at a LEPRA Leprosy Shoe Mela. Below is the video of photos that Allie Rae and I took at the event. Prettttty awesome.</div>
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Now we've got a girls group going in the slums called GLOW Girls - Girls Leading Our World. Alee, an awesome team member, came up with the idea after running the summer camp. The older girls just wanted to talk with us. So we started this group as an opportunity to empower them with leadership skills, health knowledge, goal-setting, career/education preparation.<br />
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There are so many issues that these girls face, as basic as menstruation, that they don't have the information or know-how to deal with. So, teaching them, for example, what menstruation is and how to live with it, etc, will help them not to be scared by things but that they culturally can't talk with anyone about. The plan is to eventually make a presidency and slowly turn lessons over to them, and then to have the groups spread as these girls teach other girls. Below are a couple pictures of our last GLOW Girls session.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Showing us a journal entry from her GLOW Girls journal.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing games at the end of our last meeting</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love this girl... good thing she feels the same way :)</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Another project that will start this week is alcohol and tobacco classes. I've been working for weeks to try and get this lesson ready, and now it's time! We will be holding single session classes with ten different groups of adults in slums. I'm nervous about the way the classes will be taken since they'll be a little controversial, but it's definitely an area that needs to be addressed.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">We're also going to start music classes, case studies, various media campaigns, and many other projects... we'll try and keep you updated!</span></div>
</div>Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-25062012285530757342012-06-13T05:22:00.000-07:002012-06-13T05:22:12.133-07:00Two champs on the train<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today I was on the train coming back from Lingampali to
Secunderabad and on hopped two young gentlemen who immediately caught my
attention. They wore matching, purple and white seersucker shirts. They also matched
each other’s height, build, and demeanor. Both looked remarkably happy and at
one with the world around them. It’s not so much that “I own the planet” like
some young men radiate. Instead, it was more of a “no matter who owns the
planet, I am perfectly comfortable getting along.”</div>
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The rest of the train ride I watched these two young men.
They sat for some time with their legs dangling off the side of the train,
watching the city go by. Other times they half-wrestled each other, having
probably too much fun right by the open train door. In fact, at one point I was
standing just by them and stuck out my leg across the doorway to make sure they
didn’t fall out the side.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I eventually worked my way over to them on the train. They
were conversing and laughing in Telugu. I gestured between the two and asked, “Brothers?”
They smiled and bobbled their heads in unison. We had a short, broken
conversation. Both their names started with an “S,” but I can’t honestly
remember them now. Vaguely, I recollect that one sounded like “smiley” but of
course was probably way off from that. I feel like it suited anyways.<o:p></o:p></div>
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They didn’t stay still for long enough to have a thorough “get-to-know”
you. Soon they were on the other side of the boxcar, enjoying themselves again.
I just kept watching.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Just before my stop came, they somehow ended up back on my
side of the train. One was teasing the other as he showed his gym membership
card, as if it was the silliest thing in the world. I chimed in, “You like to
work out?” He smiled. One thing led to another, and we found ourselves having a
pull-up competition on the hand-bars attached to the ceiling. He was pretty
good, but I had him…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Soon the train screetched to a halt, and we three
disembarked. It took less than three seconds to lose sight of them in the
crowd. But they’re out there in the city somewhere, living it up to the
fullest.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t know what about them stood out to me so much. They
were just alive and happy about the simple fact of life, all in the midst of a relatively
filthy city that is characterized only by the struggle for survival. At one
point I thought of Slum Dog Millionaire and the story of those brothers. I was
tempted to sensationalize the background and the future of this pair. Would one
go on to be a leading gangster in a city slum? Would another work day-in and
day-out on the phones in a cubicle next to hundreds of other customer services
technicians? Would they both go on to earn PhDs and work with the poor, like
the wonderful people we are surrounded by each day?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Thankfully, I didn’t really have to sensationalize their
stories. I’ll leave that up to them. The experience was just wonderful for me
to think about the future, and that even here in India, the next generation has
potential. There’s a lot that needs to be done, but for today, these boys’
sense of freedom, fun, and fulfillment on one simple train ride are all that
matters.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kyle</div>
</div>Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-28727902063175242912012-06-07T22:35:00.002-07:002012-06-07T22:35:45.612-07:00School painting and Shabana<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Last week we started work on a summer camp for kids in slum
schools, and we painted a preschool in the slums. The summer camp was loud and
busy and fun. And a learning experience. The girls running it did a great job
planning lessons and keeping the kids busy. Brook and I taught them the Macarena,
and they caught on so quickly… it was so fun to watch them dance. Especially to
the music of the Tollywood hit “Gabbar Singh.” That’s another story entirely.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The best part of the week was getting to know the children
that hung out around the school while we painted. They were all so eager to
talk with us and learn from us. Once they learned my name is Katrina, they kept
asking me to “Dance! Dance!” because I share my name with a famous Bollywood
star… and because they probably would have asked anyway.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most of the group in front of the school on the day we finished</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little boy seemed a little sad, but I am captured by this photo of him</td></tr>
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A few of the older girls in particular liked talking with
me and the other volunteers, asking me my name, my parents’ names, my age, etc. When they found out I
was married (Kyle wasn’t there) they were surprised. They were so interesting
to get to know. A few were Hindu, some were Christian, and a few were Muslim.
They all had aspirations to be teachers, doctors, policemen. They were
energetic and kind, and I just wanted to spend all my time with them. When we
left they said, “We are missing you,” and they hugged me a lot. So sweet.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls gave me a few flowers :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Many of the girls</td></tr>
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It seems wrong having favorites, but I have to admit I had
one. Her name is Shabana, a 9<sup>th</sup> class girl and a Muslim. She had a
grace and maturity about her that I admire. She didn’t join the other kids in
flocking me for games and songs (thought I didn’t mind that), she just watched
us through the window while we sat on the school porch. I just inherently
trusted her. Near the end of the day one day, she made a beautiful henna design
on my hand with my ballpoint pen. So beautiful! I was sad it wasn’t henna
because it washed away so quickly. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shabana with a local woman who came by for a bit</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can't see it well, but this is what Shabana drew on my hand</td></tr>
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Next week she goes off to a hostel so she can attend a
special Muslim girls’ school (from what I understood), so I may not get to see
her again. I really have no idea what she has experienced so far in life, and I
don’t know what challenges await her, but I hope with all my heart that she finds
joy in life. I hope she becomes the teacher she dreams of being. I hope she
finds her way out of the slums if that is what she wants. I hope she has a kind
husband when she gets married. I hope she keeps her sweetness. I hope the same for all the girls I met, and all I didn't meet. And all the little boys.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Shabana is just one girl out of millions of people in this
city, but I am glad I met her and learned just a little of her hopes and dreams
and talents. <o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-45481444136328917452012-06-07T01:51:00.002-07:002012-06-07T01:52:34.722-07:00The stories behind the precious smiles<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A few of us just got back from a visit to another bridge school, getting ready to do case studies on as many children as we can. We were introduced to three classes, and they were so excited to see us. Each class had a few boys who told us their stories.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't get pictures today, but the boys today reminded me of these boys at the rural bridge school.</td></tr>
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The first was the story of a boy of nine years who came to the bridge camp within the past few months. He told us that his father murdered his mother about a year ago. He moved in with his maternal grandmother, and once he came out on bail, he poisoned and killed his grandmother. A little nine year-old boy telling us this story... I can't even imagine the pain, the nightmares. He and his little three-year old brother were now living at bridge camp until he is accepted to a government school and lives in a hostel.<br />
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We heard from probably ten more children, and maybe a third of them said their parents committed suicide, and several mentioned that their parents were alcoholic. These boys had all been through difficult things like this, even if their trials had "just" been child labor. I don't think I'll ever be callous to these stories, even after I've heard a hundred.<br />
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I'm still processing things, but I do want to say that it made me even more excited for my upcoming project: teaching about alcohol and tobacco abuse in slum communities. Alcohol causes so much harm to families and individuals who are already so poor and have such difficult situations. I can't blame them for wanting a way to relax and get away, but this is not a healthy way. I know these classes will be difficult and probably not well received, but it's a start. A very important start. </div>Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1285045365582027097.post-27794322780739667762012-06-01T21:28:00.000-07:002012-06-02T10:40:46.636-07:00Swayam Krishi Sangam<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I finally found one time of the day that isn’t boiling hot…
5:00 a.m. That’s when I had to get up to accompany one of our partner
organizations out into the field to have a look at some of their programs with
the “ultra poor.” It turned out to be a beautiful day, despite the early start
and the fact that the heat had returned by eight o’clock.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Ultra poor” is a phrase used by an organization called SKS,
an organization we may work with this summer. The phrase refers to a state of
poverty that is at the peak of destitution – when families are impoverished in
every kind of way. For instance, the ultra poor that SKS focuses on are women
who have been abandoned or have lost their husbands, have no education, no
property, no jobs, no social support or family support, and less than 1$ a day
of income (made mostly from selling themselves as day laborers to do any type
of work available). The also live in rural India – the most rural part of
India. We left for the outskirts of Madek district at 5:00 a.m. because it took
over three and a half hours to get out to this small village.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Despite being labeled “ultra poor,” these women are still “ultra
inspiring.” Our first encounter with them was at their weekly team meeting
where they come and record their progress. It was amazing to see what was
happening. SKS takes a couple months to teach basic principles of financial
literacy. From that point on, the women are given means of livelihood (this
group had been given goats to raise and sell, other women choose tailoring or
other skill sets they feel best suits their circumstances). They meet in a
group once a week to report how many rupees they’ve saved that week and to
receive additional trainings. They also come with a handful of rice every week
to deposit into their group “rice bank.” Then, any time one of them experiences
some crisis, she can draw on that rice bank rather than starve. In only eight
months’ time these woman had nearly filled a large tin bucket with rice.<o:p></o:p></div>
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To report their
progress, the women maintain a financial ledger, both personally and as a
community. We saw in their own handwriting how they reported their savings and
expenditures. We also saw how at the beginning of the community ledger all they
could do each week was leave a thumb print on the line that represented their
contribution. Then, after flipping through a number of pages, some of the lines
started showing scraggly signatures instead of thumb prints. When we’d flipped
to the final page, every line had a well-practiced signature.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After this meeting, we were blessed to be invited into the
homes of two of these women. The first was an aging woman who lived on her own.
We walked through the village past a number of sound-looking dwellings,
expecting at any time to come across her house. When we did, I must admit I did
a double take. Compared to the brick and mortar houses around, her little straw-thatched
home tucked between established houses looked like nothing more than an
abandoned shed. Yet, she had maintained it and loved it, and it was indeed her
home. We’d seen the homes of others struggling in India before. This was
something different. Inside, there was nothing. No possessions. No light. Only
her and her dedicated determination to push on. Our partner, Dr. Divakar, said,
“You are in the home of one of the poorest women in all of India.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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We asked her about her story, and also her dreams for the
future. She was alone. Her daughter and son-in-law had left and were living in
Hyderabad, but never sent any support. She had lost her husband years before.
She had nowhere to go. But she looked forward to improvement and peace in the
years to come. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The next home we visited was very similar, but with a new story and new struggles. This woman’s husband had committed suicide a couple years ago. Now, she
was working as a day laborer trying to help her three children get through
school. Her two daughters were there, and we got a few shy smiles out of them.
They were beautiful young girls, and this family is hoping to get all of them into
higher schooling. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The rest of the day was rather administrative – learning about
SKS and its history and programs. Apparently, “Swayam Krishi Sangam" means “self-help group” in Sanskrit.
An appropriate title. These women are really pulling themselves forward on
their own, helping each other and helping themselves. Throughout the day, the
feeling these women left never dimmed. It’s humbling to think as I sit here in our comfortable flat, hours away from their village, that they are still out there, struggling, smiling, working, hoping, and trying to improve their condition. They are always out there, though rarely seen. They
were there before we came, and will be there when we go back home. It’s not that
I hadn’t studied poverty, and didn’t “know” that wonderful people just like me are
living a very different life than I am all around the world. It’s just a new
feeling to be able to put a face and a story to the statistics and lectures. When
I wake up each day, wondering what I’ll be up to, they’re waking up and facing
the day just like me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qJfaVb4L02A/T8mU9v0XhOI/AAAAAAAACLo/MevsCvB7p4E/s1600/IMG_5957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qJfaVb4L02A/T8mU9v0XhOI/AAAAAAAACLo/MevsCvB7p4E/s400/IMG_5957.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's Brook, who accompanied me, with the SKS group</td></tr>
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Certain social problems cannot be overcome in six or twelve
weeks’ time. Hopefully we can leave something for them that will help those
dreams before we return home.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>Katrinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13114086554567694509noreply@blogger.com0