The Trip pt. 1: Ballarshah

Due to buying the tickets so late, there was no way we could get a train for Bangalore to Chandigarh for arriving on the 27th. So, we had to mix and match trains, and took a quick detour. To where? The town of Ballarshah in Maharastra.

We stepped onto the train at about 10pm at night, and slept soundly. The journey was supposed to take 19 hours, and we expected to reach Ballarshah (next to Ballarpur) at around 5:30 pm. I woke up that morning dreading the long day ahead. Sitting on a train for so long can bring out any number of emotions - from bored and lethargy, to excitement and interest, anger, sadness, joy, and more. You really never know what to expect.

The further north we got, the more the weather changed. And as the weather changed, the more I wished I was in Bangalore. What I didn't (fully) realize before is that as far south as Bangalore is, it is also much higher in altitude than other Indian cities. So instead of getting cooler as we went north, it grew warmer. Ahem, let me correct myself, hotter.

It's that humid kind of heat that you don't really sweat, but moisture just accumulates on you, and it feels just like sweat. Wipe it away all you want, it comes right back. Gazing into nothing out the window of the train, I noticed a large barn in the distance. The fact that I saw a barn wasn't exactly what was strange, what caught my eye was that it said "BALLARPUR" on the side. I looked at my watch. 2:15pm. But we weren't supposed to reach Ballarpur until almost 5 or later.

"Hey John? That shed just said Ballarpur...."

Confused, he tried to see it, but we had already passed. Then the train slowed down, and came to stop at a station. I jumped off to stretch my legs and look for a sign, but couldn't see anything. As I was walking around I hear, "NORM! This is the stop, we gotta get off!" Before the train could take off again, I rushed on board and grabbed my belongings.

This is where the happiness comes in. Expecting to arrive at a certain time, and really arriving around 3 hours early. We stepped off the train again to the smiling faces of John's cousin Bunty (real name is Prasana) and his Uncle, Prakash. They greeted us with hand shakes and hugs, and offered to take our bags. The heat seemed to disappear.

We left the Ballarshah train station, and entered the small town of Ballarshah. I quickly learned that in this town of Maharastra people often stay indoors or in shade between 11 and 5. For 2:30pm, this was the quietest Indian town I've ever seen. I hope you can try and imagine what the sun must have felt like. For even native people who have lived here, they have to stay inside. As much life as it gives, the sun is one deadly s.o.b.

The rickshaw ride was a short journey to John's grandfather's house. Being such an isolated town with no real tourist attraction, my white skin seemed to attract more stares and glares then has been the standard while here. As an example of how out of place I was, this happened to me a couple days later:

John's aunt from the other side of the family (his Mom's) also lives in this town. So he invited me over to her house to have lunch one afternoon. They spoke even less English than his Dad's side (the people with whom we were staying), and he told me that if I wanted to take off and walk home after lunch, that was cool. So after some delicious chicken, rice, a dal, curd, and a plethora of other Indian foods, I stepped out into the unrelenting sun and began my short journey home. The houses weren't very far away from each other, but I still had to navigate my way through this foreign town - so it could have easily become a long, lost journey.

Upon turning one corner, I was walking up a small hill. To the left, brick walls with smoke stacks behind it, issuing their black, acrid smoke into the air. On the right hand side were some two story houses, one with an alley in between the back of the houses. As I walked past the alley way, a man was simultaneously walking out of the alley. I looked up, he looked up at me, and just as if he saw a ghost (no pun intended), he jumped out of his skin. He took two steps back, eyes wide, and nearly fell on his back. I kept walking calmly, trying not to react to his surprise, but realized he had stopped moving. He was staring me down - and as I turned around to look at him again, the expression on his face was... well how do I describe it. He was in such disbelief - looking at me as if I didn't really exist. I half expected him to walk away scratching his head, torn by thoughts if what he saw was real.

Then I thought - do I look at tourists like this in America? When I am in the states and see a tourist, do I stare at them as they stare at me here? For now, I can't say....

So back track - we arrived at Dada's (Grandpa in Hindi) house. John's aunt was there, and his two cousins Rahel, and Monica. Warm greetings from the family, as usual. Also, the giant water cooler fan in the room wasn't a bad addition to making the atmosphere more tolerable. We sat for a while chatting, half in English, half in Telugu or Hindi, recounting stories of what everyone has been doing.

That day was used for relaxing only. Sitting outside, reading the paper, taking a nap, we had no worries on our mind, and full stomachs to boot. The next part of the story I will recount with something I had written while in Ballarshah (with some stuff added in):

"Hearing "yes brother?" was nice. A good change from hearing mister, or sir. Well, my impression changed when I realized the connection - the reality of why they said brother. (It was still a nice change to hear for a while).

His grandfather, "dada", was the first in the family to switch to Christianity and change the last name to John. Son of a coal miner, he very clearly repeated his father's words to me: "Don't go into the mines." With very few other industries in the area (that were considered 'safe'), I guess becoming a pastor wasn't a bad idea.

When I awoke on the first morning, there were two phrases I had heard. "Good morning Brother" or "Praise the Lord." Or possibly some combination of the two. When his Uncle had awoken from his nap, he looked at me, a wide smile spreading across his face, and only said, "ahhh, praise the lord."

Even upon meeting other family members (whether from John's Mother or Father's side), I did not shake hands with people and hear "nice to meet you". Instead, I shook hands and was told "praise the lord". Even when meeting Christians in America I had never heard that.

Other than that, the way the culture of many Indian families operates closely resembles the culture of Italian families. Or perhaps it's not so much cultural distinctions, but just trademark examples of happy families. How they communicate, how they eat, talk, laugh, hang-out, it all made me quite nostalgic of my family back home and Italy as well. The importance of the family is extremely important in both cultures, and this, to me, was important.

There is one grave distinction though. I say grave, but that's just my western cultural misunderstanding speaking. I'll explain later why it's not grave at all. The women. Oh the women. Women, women, women.

My Mother once told me a story of her only encounter with an Indian family in England. I would always say, "Yeah, yeah that's India" when she told me, but the truth is I just blew it off because I hadn't literally experience it yet. My first trip to India, I must way, was quite a watered down experience. This one, has been a lot more.... involved, I suppose.

This is how it appears from an outsiders view, before any understanding or dialog takes place: Men eat, women cook. Men eat, women wait on men. Men sit, women clean. Men sit, and then women eat. Then everyone sleeps after all the duties are taken care of. One of John's cousins, Rahel, or Pinki for a pet name, is quite a beautiful, intelligent young woman.

At 22, she speaks beautiful English, but stopped going to school after 12th grade. And she is a fantastic cook as well. She is the oldest woman in the household, and therefore does most of the cooking, cleaning, washing etc, along with the help of her younger sister, Moni. After talking to hear briefly, I learned a bit of her past, how she stopped going to school and is now working for the local church ministry and helping children. I can't judge, but I wonder if she realizes the power she has - to get educated, to go abroad, to learn about the world, other cultures, etc etc.

I don't know where I'm going with this, but I think because my background encompasses "free" women, educated women, traveled women of all types, and here I have an experience with a women. Just a women that doesn't fit into that category. So naturally, I wouldn't assume that she is "free". In one aspect, "bound" by the constraints of society and family, performing only her duties at 22, yet still so unbelievably happy and amiable. And still, being able to help people and children in her area. So, who is more free?

Perhaps freedom is more than having the infinite number of choices that so many westerners have... It seems all the choices can cause more problems as well. Insecurity, uncertainty, always wondering, questioning the big "what if?"....

Perhaps freedom is accepting the current state of fate you are in and choosing to be happy. But then again, if you are raised to believe happiness is only the sum of external forces, you will constantly be changing your wold. Constantly searching for that perfect "happiness equation." Yet, through all these variables have you stopped and said, "wait, I can just choose to be happy?" Only you can really answer that.

But back to women.....

Here's the deal: When Uncle comes to ask if I want some tea, and we are all sitting around, I am divided how to answer. Personally, yes, I want tea. It's always delicious, and tasty. In reality, I don't really want to say yes because then he will send one of the women to make tea for us. Even if they are sitting, reading, relaxing or doing nothing. As if they don't have enough work to do....

Now, back to the comment on using "grave" distinctions between families. I can't get over the women situation, that's just how it is. I can only accept it as an old traditional way of thinking, based on a patriarchal society. I've brought it up a couple times how I would feel more comfortable if we all ate together, and it seems unfair that they (both men and women at this point) wait on me hand and foot to make sure I am happy. When I ask about it, there is only one simple response that is so deeply integrated into the Indian mindset, there is no point of trying to change it.

"Treat your guests like they are Gods" or in Sanskrit: "Atithi Devo Bhava" which literally means "The guest is God."

Which means, if you are all eating together, and you want something else, a host can't concentrate all his/her attention on you because they are eating. So if they are not eating, they will be able to easily help you with whatever you need.

All in all, its interesting and a way of thinking that is so removed from a western mindset. I in NO WAY mean removed in a bad way, just something we're not used to. When we have guests, it's important to be a good host, but that means eating together, being communal in food and drink, etc. How you choose to live your life is simply your choice, neither way is more right than the other.

Based off this wonderful hospitality, Uncle was able to show me the open and closed cast mines - one of the major industries in the town. Coming up, part two: The mines!

Falling into a new routine

Well, work officially started and I have a lot on my plate already. But at least I can wake up each morning with some sense of purpose as opposed to "what do I want to do today?"

Before I talk about work, I'll briefly explain a couple things that have been going on. If you think about it, if I were to get up every morning and be able to choose what I want to do for the day... well I would say that sounds like freedom. Nothing impinges on your decisions, you can freely make a choice about what YOU want to do, not what others want you to do, or not what you need to do.

Being free sounds pretty nice, right?

Well I think we need to better define "free". Yeah, it was nice for sometime to be able to have that choice. But it can only take you so far.... Eventually you run out of things to do, or you begin to repeat things you've already done - but having to get up and choose everyday the tasks you want to accomplish; it takes a lot more out of you than people may realize. Well maybe just more out of me, but while I might be more "free" in doing exactly what I want to do, it doesn't always leave me happier, or in a better state of mind.

That is one thing I have been wrestling with. For most of our lives (hell, the life of America) we've been taught that freedom = happiness. Fight for your freedom so that you can be happy. What about those born into freedom... shouldn't they automatically be happy? Is that why so many American kids and teenagers (I'll use it again, but hell, most of America) are on anti-depressants?

Let's change that - fight oppression? That might make you happier, no one likes being oppressed. Fight for what you feel is right? Sure, we all try to be understood from time to time. But let's say you are fighting for your freedom. You'll never be free if that's the course you choose to take.

Let me explain... You fight for your freedom. You finally, after struggle, and hard-ship, obtain it. That deserves congratulations and some good ol' R&R. Now that you are free, to choose whatever you want to choose to do... that's it? That's the end? You can now lounge all day and wallow in freedom until you die?

Forgive my beating around the bush, I'll get to the point. You will never be free, because you've found something purposeful. To fight for something, to fight for a better way of life. Once you are free, you will surely be bored, and I would argue that many that begin such a task, could never divorce themselves from it. Once you obtain your own freedom, it almost seems inevitable that you are so used to fighting for what you think is right, it won't end there, and you will continue to fight.

So I argue a new way of thinking (if I can even do that) and that is the importance of finding purpose. Scratch that, finding purpose isn't new at all. But it doesn't have to be the grand purpose of the universe that burnt out traveling hippies are looking for. It doesn't even need to be biological as in what you do as a human that will best perpetuate our species - theres enough of us as it is. But find a purpose that YOU have chosen, and that you find some meaning from. Getting up everyday and having to think about what you want to do is just as impriosning as any other oppression (I feel thats a bit too strong of a word to use here, but I couldn't think of a better one). Instead, choose something that is purposeful, that gives you something to do everyday.

Going full circle and tying this back to work - what I am doing now for GCSD is by no means my life's dream. Nor is it going to be a life long career. But after going from a month and a half of solo travel, where I truly had the "freedom" of choosing what I want to do without anyone telling me otherwise, to getting up in the morning and knowing I have some tasks to complete.... it's a powerful feeling. And an important one at that. I feel more free in completing my tasks as a group than in choosing what I want to do on my lonesome.

And now that I DO have tasks, I'm falling into routine. And what a splendid routine it is! Here are how my days have been going.

Up at 6am for something small to eat. By 6:30 I meet up with some people from the local church and Living Hope Children's Home, just some ways down the road. We get together every morning and play soccer for an hour or two. Mostly it's John's brothers and some other people from the church that play. Either way it's a great way to get excercise in the morning, and wake up with the sun. After playing soccer (which I ride a cycle to get to), I cycle back home, picking up some milk along the way.

Then my day at home/the office begins. I heat up the milk, make some coffee and some breakfast, and relax on the balcony for some time. Shower, all that jazz and then work. Technically, the office time starts at 11am, but it is by no means strict. Since I am up early anyways, I usually begin working before that, while the house is still quiet. It's nice to be alone and work, listen to music, and complete smaller tasks without distractions.

Like I said, office time begins at 11 and usually goes until 6 or so. Since there are only three of us working though, those times are always shifting. It's not strange if we're still at our computers at 8 or 9 o'clock. And not cursing the work, or saying "Damn, I wish I was doing this." But just because things need to get done, so we do them. No huffing or puffing, no angry words... if you don't feel like working anymore, than stop.

But, (back to freedom), given that freedom that if you really can't take it, or it's just one of those days you are allowed to stop - I would say promotes us to work harder and longer. When you know you have that kind of freedom, it's like some weight is lifted off your shoulders, and strangely, through whatever reason, we work harder.

Take Apple for an example. Despite being retail, it was one of the best jobs I have ever worked. The people were great, the company was as understanding as possible for a huge corporation to be, and I was overall happy in the job. But when you have to push yourself to work sometimes, and you have to take your lunch at a certain hour (whether you are hungry or not) and things are strict and regulated, it takes a toll. It made me overall more lethargic towards my job.

Apple however, would not be able to operate as the three of us here at GCSD would be able to operate. And this is the part (for me) that requires a little foresight. This mentality of working here is a great way to work. However, it is very easy to say "I'll do it later" or "Right after this"... always one more excuse and things never get done. So as long as I keep my wits about me and get things done when they are presented to me, the three of us working here will all be a lot happier.

But enough of the stuff that's going on in my mind... let's get down to the meat of it.

What the heck am I doing anyways??

Here are a couple of my tasks - Writing grant proposals for our WE BUILD Program next summer. Although even if it doesn't get started up next summer, we are constantly building on materials and different avenues for when we're ready to get it rolling. I am also redesigning one of the websites as a test run - and if that's adequate, will hopefully be able to redesign the maine GCSD website. That's my biggest qualm - for serious awareness from other people, we're going to need a much more informative, interactive website.

Quick homework for you guys - click this link for our website: www.globalcitizens.org.in . Here's the question - what would you want to see on this website? What would keep you interested and clicking on our links?

You can either post the answer in the comments below, or e-mail me. All comments are appreciated.

Other than proposals and writing things, I am doing a lot of research as to how we can register GCSD in America or Europe. So a lot of writing, editing, research, a whole mess of things. And in a couple weeks we are co-organizing the 4th International Student Peace Festival in Chandigarh. Which is in the state of Punjab. We're specifically organizing Water Conservation day, which includes a bunch of films, open discussions, and lectures from some famous guest speakers. There will be people from all over the world at this festival so it will be good to connect with many different NGOs.

Before that though, I am pleased to announce my first solo business trip that I will be going on next week. Just to be safe, I can't describe the specifics of it, but my job is this: I'm going to Mysore on Friday, specifically H.D. Kote to observe a new program that a foundation is trying to get underway. They have just hired someone new to work with village children - and since children is a concern of ours, GCSD wants to partner with them.

However, we've never seen what they're doing, only been given their plan on paper. So I have to go an observe what they are doing, how they are doing, how well they are doing it etc. This new hire of theirs is also important, because if GCSD is going to partner with them, we want to make sure that he is good enough for the job. Especially in how he interacts with the children.

So Friday I go to Mysore (about a 3.5 hour bus ride) to observe the program, take pictures, ask a lot of questions and then compile a report about my impression of the program. If it feels good and they are doing their job well, then great, and we will more seriously consider parterning with them.

I'm just happy that I have been entrusted with this task alone, being very new to the GCSD culture.

On a final note, and back to doing something that gives you a sense of purpose - I want to make a note of why this NGO in paticular is giving me that feeling. There are many NGOs with hundreds or even a couple thousand employees and volunteers. It's nice to work for an NGO, and helping others, but in larger situations, voices get muffled and lost.

Since there are only three of us working in this office, everyone is heard, evaluated, and every comment considered. Figure it this way - I'm writing a proposal for a grant. Sure we will go back, delete stuff, edit it, re-word it, and in the end it might not even sound like my writing. But when we get the funds from that donor - something I have done inevitably made a difference. Even if it's something small - since it's a small company, every where we put our energy, counts.

And that is a gratifying feeling. To know that you made some sort of difference no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. We're all trying to change the world in someway, but you can't save people by one swing of your hand. It takes small changes over a long period of time.

So get cracking people! Everyone is waiting for you!