It’s now day 16 in India—a country
of over 1.2 billion people, the second-most populous country in the word, and
the largest democracy. As we expected, the first two weeks here (as in Israel)
have been exhausting and challenging. We have done so much and I have a lot to
say, but I will try to be selective so I don’t ramble on too long….
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| Delicious Southern Indian thali |
We spent our first week in India in
Mumbai. With 20.5 million people, it is the most populous city in the country
and the fourth most populous in the world. I did not have a chance to visit
Mumbai my first time in India, and it is a city that I have wanted to
experience…especially after reading the incredible novel based on a true story,
Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts
(I highly recommend it to anyone with an interest in India). Most of the story
takes place in Mumbai and Roberts does an extraordinary job of capturing and
describing the essence of the city. I felt like I had been there before even setting
foot on the ground. I may sometimes quote him in my blogs because of his
eloquence and clarity. For instance, Roberts so perfectly describes the smell
of Mumbai: “I know now that it’s the sweet, sweating smell of hope, which is
the opposite of hate; and it’s the sour, stifled smell of greed, which is the
opposite of love. It’s the smell of gods, demons, empires, and civilizations in
resurrection and decay. It’s the blue skin-smell of the sea, no matter where
you are in the Island City, and the blood-metal smell of machines. It smells of
the stir and sleep and waste of sixty million animals, more than half of them
humans and rats. It smells of heartbreak, and the struggle to live, and of the
crucial failures and loves that produce our courage. It smells of ten thousand
restaurants, five thousand temples, shrines, churches, and mosques, and of a
hundred bazaars devoted exclusively to perfumes, spices, incense, and freshly
cut flowers. Karla once called it the worst good smell in the world…” (Roberts,
p. 4).
Despite all the places we went,
people we met, sights we saw, and learning we did, I will first say that we had
(and still have to) overcome many challenges to fully benefit from everything
India has to offer. I will strive to be honest in my blog and not paint a
picture that overemphasizes the positives or the negatives, but instead I will
try to exemplify the realities—good and bad—that come with traveling and living
in a developing country, such as India.
The first week was rough for many
reasons. First, we had just experienced two exhausting weeks in Israel, and now
had to continue the lifestyle of living out of our backpacks and staying in
hostels for another week. Second, our stomachs were hit hard and fast. Half of
us started antibiotics and two people came down with fevers within the first
couple days. Third, the heat plus the food led to further exhaustion,
dehydration, and undernourishment, which all equaled discomfort. Fourth, there
is a dengue fever endemic sweeping through the country, so it is critical to
avoid mosquito bites (i.e. wearing repellent 24 hours a day and wearing
long-sleeve shirts and pants, even in the heat). Fifth, uncomfortable sleeping
arrangements contributed to further lack of sleep (i.e. filthy sheets at the
hostel with ants all over them and a rooster that crowed SO loudly throughout
the night that made sleep impossible). Sixth, the pollution makes the air dense
and dirty and hard to breathe, causing respiratory issues and sore throats.
Luckily, I’ve got my preventive inhaler here to take twice a day! And seventh,
women must have their shoulders and chest covered and pants that go below the
knees. This is more important in Hyderabad, a much more conservative and Muslim
city, than Mumbai, but it has led to frustration because it is both an
inconvenience and a constant reminder that many of our Western freedoms don’t
exist here. To name a few, women are not allowed to sit in the front of a
rickshaw, buy beer or other alcohol at the store, be out late or alone at
night, and initiate conversations with men.
Nevertheless, we still were able to have a great time in
Mumbai. Here are some of the highlights:
·
Visiting
the Jewish neighborhoods. We met Ralphy, our director’s Jewish-Indian
friend, who was an incredible tour guide and reference for us. According to
him, there are 5,000 Jews in India, and 4,000 live in Mumbai. He showed us some
of the Jewish neighborhoods in Mumbai and took us on a boat to another island
(Mumbai constitutes seven islands), where there is a town called Alibag that
has a very old Jewish community. It was neat to see houses with Magen Davids
and mezuzahs on the doors. We visited a beautiful, pink synagogue and spent
time with the eighty-year-old chazzan (cantor) and caretaker who did not speak
any English (Ralphy translated for us). It was just so incredible to learn
about the presence of Judaism in Indian society, how it has evolved, and the
similarities and differences between their ways of practicing Judaism and mine.
It was so neat to hear him sing Hebrew prayers and have an instant bond with
someone who comes from such a different world. We also had the opportunity to
attend another Jewish synagogue in Mumbai for Shabbat services, as well as for
a Jewish wedding (described below).
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| The synagogue in Alibag |
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·
Shantaram. Our hostel for the first
few nights in Mumbai was right off of the Colaba Causeway, a main street in
Mumbai lined with shops and restaurants and men selling everything under the
sun. Although it was a very touristy area (how could I avoid buying a scarf,
leather sandals, and a fun pair of Indian “dhoti” purple pants??), I was
ecstatic to be about two blocks away from a restaurant called the Leopold Café,
which is a very significant location in Shantaram.
It was soo exciting to see it firsthand. I also got to see a few other
meaningful places from the book, which really excited me (you can imagine how I
was in Rome, trying to find all the significant locations from Angels and
Demons!). Since Ralphy has lived in Mumbai his whole life, I asked him if he
knew Roberts, and sure enough he not only knows him, but he knows a handful of
the other people from the story too! I was thrilled to hear that. He even told
me that when Madonna visited Mumbai, Roberts brought her to visit Ralphy’s
synagogue and he met her too! I have never experienced a book which I treasure
becoming such a reality….
·
The Gabriel
Project and Kalwa Slum. We met the director and participants of a volunteer
organization called the Gabriel Project, which also allows Jewish young adults
the opportunity to volunteer in India. Five of us stayed with them in their
apartment for three nights in an area of North Mumbai, called Thane. Although
it was hot and we were sleeping on the floor, it was a valuable opportunity to
meet them and learn about their experiences here. The project, which partners
with another NGO, is part of a fascinating initiative to empower women, promote
education, and provide better nutrition in the slums. They have set up a system
that allows women to partake in micro-financing so they can afford to purchase
necessities for themselves and their families, and the program in turn pays for
food for these women to prepare healthy meals, which they then provide to
children as part of an incentive for the children to attend school in the slum.
Unfortunately, education is not highly valued and families rely on even small
children to provide some source of income. There are
seven million children in the slums of Mumbai and the only ticket out is to
learn to read and write. Education is critical to getting out of the slums, but
there are large barriers from the family, the government, and the upper class.
Furthermore, there is a hierarchical system within the family structure that
determines the order of who gets to eat the minimal food they have, and sadly,
the children come last. Therefore, many kids are left starving. If they attend
school, however, they will be provided with a hot, healthy meal. The director
brought us to the Kalwa Slum, where nearly 100,000 people live, in order to see
the system in action. We visited a few different homes to meet the women who
did the cooking, as well as the schools (small, one room shacks) to meet the
children and teachers. It was a very inspiring and eye-opening opportunity. I
am particularly fascinated by the way the program manages to address three
large issues in one system: women’s empowerment, malnutrition, and education.
They are already reaching 500 children in 24 classrooms and the program is
expected to grow hugely—hopefully reaching the goal of 5,000 children.
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| With the school children in Kalwa Slum |
·
Indian-Jewish
wedding. One of the employees of the Gabriel Project happened to be getting
married while we were there and graciously extended a wedding invitation to all
of us to attend her henna ceremony, marriage ceremony, and wedding reception.
The coolest part is that she and her husband are Indian-Jews so we got to
experience an Indian, yet Jewish, wedding. While half of us stayed with the
Gabriel Project, the other half stayed in a hotel near by and befriended the
wife of the owner, who took all of us under her wing to go shopping for saris
and jewelry for the wedding. It was nice to be with a local who knows the ropes
and made sure that we were not financially taken advantage of.
The henna ceremony
was really neat, and took place two nights before the actual wedding. A henna
ceremony is an important part of the Jewish-Indian wedding tradition because of
the luck it is said to bring. After lots of food and socializing, the bride
sits in the middle of the room and undergoes many ceremonial traditions. Her
index finger is dipped in Henna, which is where the ring will be placed on her
wedding day. Then all of the women in attendance (including us, if we chose to)
lined up and one by one “blessed her” by following a tradition of waving money
around her head for prosperity, putting a sweet ball of a wax-like substance in
her mouth for sweetness in life, and throwing three handfuls of rice over her
and her younger sister for fertility and luck. It was a verrrry long process
(as is everything in India!) but a very cool experience and ceremony to be a
part of.
The actual wedding
took place in South Mumbai and was at a local synagogue. The service was long
and in Hebrew. It was followed by the reception, which was a few minutes away
and outside in a huge, open area decorated beautifully, with a massive red carpet
and walls with drapes and curtains enclosing the whole area. Many women were
dressed in the most beautiful, ornate saris. We wore saris too, which many
Indian women seemed to appreciate. The men mostly wore Western clothes (shirt
and tie) but some wore traditional Indian clothing, such as kurtas. They had
about 1,000 guests, which is typical for Indian weddings, and it is customary
to invite the whole community (i.e. why all of us were there…). The food was
delicious and mostly Indian-Chinese fusion, such as spicy lomein dishes, paneer
tikka masala, buttered naan, roti, basmati rice, etc. The dancing was a lot of
fun, although most of us were too hot and tired to join in the whole time. It
was so neat seeing them dance the Hora. I have always wanted to attend an
Indian wedding, so I am very happy that we had this opportunity.
·
Gandhi’s
house. We visited Gandhi’s former home, which has since been turned into a
museum that documents his life and his actions of civil disobedience to achieve
social justice. It was particularly interesting to see the room that he lived
in and stand on the very balcony that he so frequently stood on and looked out
on the city from. It is inspiring to learn about a man who had so much strength
and courage to do the right thing and stand up for his beliefs and convictions.
I also admire how simply he lived…one bed mat on the floor, a pair of wooden
sandals, a cotton gin to spin his own clothing, and a small table to do his
studies and writing. We all know I love my shoes, and jewelry, and scarves, and
all my travel tchotchkes on the shelves, but when I return back home I will
make a conscious effort to give away more of my belongings to people in need
and live more simply. Someone in my life once helped me understand the importance
of living simpler and having less stuff, yet it really takes an active effort
to change our lifestyles and ways that we have become so accustomed to. This
trip, thus so far, has only helped reinforce my desire to live more simply when
I return home. This will be one of my many goals.
·
The
Dharavi Slum. The most powerful experience I had in Mumbai was our visit to
a second slum: the Dharavi Slum—the largest slum in Asia, housing over one million people. Three statistics on
it: It is 68% Muslim, 1,450 people use each bathroom daily, and one in nine
children die of diseases like Malaria and Cholera. This is also the slum where the "slum scenes" of Slumdog Millionaire were
filmed.
Through our learning of leadership and social change,
we have discussed the critical importance of evaluating if there is a need
before changes are implemented. Westerners cannot simply go in to developing
countries thinking they are going to fix everything and “help” by changing
systems to make it the “right” or “better” way. What may be considered a need
to a foreigner may not be a need at all for the locals. During our meeting with
Unlimited India, an organization that supports early stage social
entrepreneurship, the director emphasized that the first step is to “understand
what the real needs of the community
are.” Our tour-guide in the Dharavi Slum showed us how systems that may appear
flawed to an outsider, are actually quite effective for this community.
The Dharavi Slum is a fully
functioning and self-contained community that has everything from movie
theaters and grocery stores to restaurants, hotels, and schools. It is
considered among the people a “5-Star Slum.” We did not take any photos, but I
will do my best to paint a verbal picture of what I experienced. According to
our guide, there are four main priorities for the residents there: food,
shelter, television, and 2 cell phones—one for personal use and one for
“business.” Nearly every home (usually a room around 90 square feet and housing
4 to 7 people) had a television on as we walked by. This did not surprise me,
as I saw the same thing when I visited the townships in South Africa, the
favelas in Brazil, and other similar communities in Asia (including low-income,
urban areas of the US, as well).
The Dharavi slum has two major
sections—an industrial area and a residential area. It was absolutely
fascinating to learn about the industrial sector, and it made me feel that we,
as Americans, could learn a thing or two from the people who we pity and try to
“help” in sometimes the wrong ways. The industrial area of the slum is made up
of several small and large-scale industries, including recycling, textile,
soap, food, pottery, leather, and aluminum, to name a few. There are an
estimated 10 to 15 thousand businesses there, producing a turnover of around
$650 million USD annually. We had the opportunity to go into the different
“shacks” that housed these industries to see the processes firsthand.
Many Westerners have an image—and
possibly a disdainful attitude—of India being covered with garbage, with no
formal garbage collection or recycling system. Although it may appear that way
in many of the cities—an yes, you do see people throw garbage right on the
ground—I was shocked to learn that many countries, including the U.S., actually
send massive amounts of garbage to India for them to process and recycle.
Although this sounds disturbing, I’ll have to do some research on why it is
happening and who benefits, before making a judgment. Anyway, beggars throughout
the cities and towns collect recyclable items from the garbage and sell them to
these industries to make a living. Average, un-educated men—not engineers or
mechanics—creatively built large machines that do the recycling. The men that
work at these “factories” then decide what can be sterilized and re-used and
what can be flattened through a machine or chopped into pieces and sold back to
industries to create something new (i.e. large oil cans are sterilized and sold
back to restaurants for a small profit three times for use before they then
need to be officially recycled). The plastic that is recycled is broken down
into very tiny pieces, which are then sorted by color, and turned into new
plastic items or even clothing or other materials. The soap industry uses used
soap bars that are left behind in hotel bathrooms to mix with more oils and
scents, which are then turned back into larger bricks of soap to be sold and
used for clothing or dishwashing. So resourceful!! The food industry here makes
3.5 tons of food daily, such as naan, pastries, biscuits, and poppadoms, which
is packaged and sold to restaurants or street vendors. The leather-making
industry is also large, constituting over 5,000 shops. It was the hardest to
experience for two reasons. First, we walked amongst heaps and piles of animal
skin that had been freshly removed from the carcass of goat, water buffalo, cow,
etc. (Muslims have no problem making cow leather). The smell was unbearable and
I had to do everything in my power to avoid throwing up. Second, we saw how the
skin goes through the leathering process, which is then processed into goods
that are exported out, stamped with a logo, and sold as designer purses or
other goods. Are you curious about which designers use this leather made in the
slums for an exceptionally (and exploitative) low cost? Diesel, Lee Cooper, and
Armani…to name a few.
The men who work
in these recycling industries do not wear safety gear because it is too hot,
and due to the toxicity of their environment, most will die around age 50. They
know this and accept it, for many of them are migrant workers from the farm and
they can earn 100 rupees a day in the factory (roughly $2), compared to the
40-50 rupees they would earn on the farm per day (less than $1).
I think when many
people hear the word “slum” they think words like, “lazy,” “homeless,”
“incapacitated,” or “helpless.” I want to make certain that everyone who reads
this blog now knows otherwise. I cannot speak for everyone in poverty around
the world, but I can speak for the Indian men, women, and children in the
Dharavi Slum of Mumbai that I witnessed to be hardworking, determined, and
driven. They are there mostly due to societal influences beyond their control. They
show a perseverance to not only survive, but show continuous care and love for their family, friends,
and neighbors. They are not moping and are not miserable. They have built a
community for themselves and work tirelessly to make each day better than the
day before. I will learn from them.
Hyderabad!
After a week in Mumbai, we took an 18-hour overnight train
(in second class, for the “experience”) to Hyderabad. Although I had previously
been on trains in India and sleeper trains in Europe, the combination of
“India” with “sleeper train” made for quite the experience. For starters, our
tickets were purchased late, so the 11 of us were not seated together, but
spread throughout the train. Our director advised that we just take over an
empty section of 11 beds, so we could keep a collective eye on all our luggage,
and hope that no one would confront us about it. Welp…that was not a wise
decision. At the second stop, three men got on board and claimed we were in
their seats. We tried to do a “trade” with them for our actual seats, but that
failed, so we scooched over and made room for them to join us on our beds for
the next 2.5 hours of their journey. Within minutes, a fight started to break
out between two of them. Trapped up against the window about two feet from them
and with loads of bags on my lap, I half buried my head to avoid any swings or
punches coming in my direction. Yonatan, our director, got up and stood between
them in a threatening stance in hopes of detering them from fighting. He then
started singing “Row, Row, Row your boat,” insisting we all join in, in order
to calm them down. I thought they were going to take out a knife and stab
him…but they actually started laughing instead. Yonatan then proceeded to
engage them in a sales "role-play," after learning that they are salesmen for a
popular biscuit cookie here in India.
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| Making friends with the "Good Day Biscuit" salesmen after our director broke up the fight. |
Let’s just say this marked the beginning of 18 hours of doing everything
in our power to keep our “stolen” seats and communicate with people who spoke minimal English. Unfortunately, since the train stopped
so often, every group we bargained with to switch seats were only on the train
for a little while, before another group got on claiming our seats again. To
make it worse, it was the middle of the night and half of our group were
already asleep and the other half of us were playing musical chairs/beds all
night, trying to make everyone that got on satisfied. It was quite the disaster
of a situation. At one point it took almost 45 minutes to satisfy a group of
six men, who insisted that we move…which at this point was impossible, because
other people had now taken our real seats. I felt really bad at the situation,
but the train was soo crowded and we had so much stuff and so little options
for solving the problem we had gotten ourselves into. Lesson learned.
I managed
to get in a couple hours of sleep here and there, but every time I drifted off,
I was rudely startled awake by the high-pitched calls of a man or woman walking
down the isle, selling “CHAIIIIII” or “whaaaa-terrrrr” or other things that I
could not understand. Beggars, sellers, and prayers (as in, people chanting
loud prayers) walked the isles. There were blind people, men with polio singing
songs, and transvestites and prostitutes begging for money or food. Women would
get on and off at each station to quickly sell what they could of fresh fruits
or fried mimosas. My head was up
against one of the windows, so at each stop men would come up and shout in my
ear to see if I wanted to buy something. That was until a man checking tickets
told me to shut the window, our only source of fresh air, because people are
known to throw rocks through the windows at foreigners. And did I mention every
time I opened my eyes, there would be a group of Indian men hovering at the
foot of my “bed” staring at me? And the toilet situation on board…well, I think
that goes without saying. This was certainly a train ride I will never forget…
Once we got to
Hyderabad, we were all so relieved to finally be entering our home city for the
next four months. Sick, tired, dirty, and emotionally and physically spent, we
were ready to move in. Hyderabad is in the state of Andhra Pradesh and is
India’s fourth most populous city with 6.8 million people. It has a relatively
large Muslim population (42%) and is considered a particularly conservative
city. It is also considered a center for information technology, pharmaceuticals,
and multinational companies. There are areas of the city referred to as
Cyberabad, or Cyber City, and HITEC City.
Our apartment is in a great neighborhood of Hyderabad called
Jubilee Hills. Walking around, you will find large, beautiful mansions with
gates and security guards out front, sitting adjacent to a cluster of tent-like
shacks, which are their neighbor’s homes. The wealth disparity is huge in India
and it is evident in most areas. Our apartment is half of a floor of a big
house and all 11 of us are living together “Real World” style, except without
luxury. It has three bedrooms (four, four, and three people in each), three
bathrooms, a large communal living area, a kitchen, and three balconies (one
designated for doing laundry in a bucket). Unfortunately, the shower and toilet
in my bathroom do not work, so at the moment all eight ladies are using one
bathroom, which has a lovely squatter toilet. We have a beautiful view of the
city from all the windows. Unfortunately, our apartment was not furnished when
we arrived, so we spent the first few days shopping to get furniture, food,
supplies, etc. We have also spent time in further training on project
management and discussing our prospective internships (I'm still in the interview process), yet we
have also had some time to go off, explore the city, and do some
sightseeing—favorites including a Buddhist, Hindu, and Muslim art and artifact
museum, a “Health Museum,” and the Chowmahalla Palace. I have bought a few nice
Indian pieces of clothing, since we need to dress conservatively and like the
locals. It is actually really fun wearing the Indian clothes because they are loose,
comfortable, and colorful. There is also a great arts and cultural village that
some of the staff took us to called Shilparamam. I loved it! They offer classes
in art, singing, and dancing, so a few of us might sign up once we know our
work schedules. Oh, and Tuesday night marked the first night of the Hindu
“festival of lights,” Diwali. Our director has an Indian friend here who
invited us to her home to celebrate Diwali with dinner and fireworks. Two of us
went over in the afternoon to help her cook the meal and experience a Hindu
ritual ceremony in front of her beautiful shrine. She explained after what the
various rituals were, and it was really interesting to not only learn about it,
but directly partake in the ceremony. The rest of the group, plus another
Israeli volunteer group who partners with our organization and lives in the same house as us, joined for dinner,
and we spent about an hour lighting fireworks, firecrackers, and sparklers,
which is a very popular tradition here. Firework explosions are going off every
few minutes, and everywhere you look (starting Monday and continuing for five
days), the sky is lit up with light. It is really quite incredible.
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| Participating in the Hindu ceremony for Diwali |
Well, that is it for now. I apologize for writing a novel. My goal is to
keep up with blogging more frequently, so that they will be short and sweet
from this point on!
Namaste!
P.S. due to a less than ideal internet situation (no wifi and 11 of us sharing 5 internet data sticks that are not very powerful), my computer does not have the capacity to upload any photos into this blog. I will attempt to add some later if I can find a working internet cafe.
