We visited a self-help group meeting in a nearby village. We got out of a truck and entered a dimly lit temple, where about ten or so women were seated against a wall. Without warning, they burst into a religious song. Looking over at the windows, we saw that a crowd of men and children had gathered in either of the square glassless windows at the temple. Doug and I were told that it was because we were visiting, that such a crowd had gathered. The group we were visiting has been together for sixteen years.
The members each introduced themselves and any relevant title. We learned earlier that day that the leader(s) of the group are only known as representative and do not have titles like “president” etc., so that there is no contention amongst the group. We also introduced ourselves, and where we were from. (It's really interesting they always introduce me as "Veena Madame.")
The meeting progressed, as each woman came forward with her loan repayment and savings contribution. One woman explained how they always seat themselves in order of their passbook number. They also explained how the elected chairperson of the meeting is the one who collects the money and mediates the meeting. They use their passbook numbers as an indication of who will be each week’s chairperson. They also mentioned that 2-3 people are trained to write the books and keep records to ensure that if there are absences, that records are accurately recorded.
There are fees associated with not contributing a savings or loan payment; 20 rupees for loans, 5 rupees for savings. The interest rate on loans is 24 percent. This, we were told is common for most mature SHG groups. Including a loan from Sanghamithra (Myrada’s MFI group-lending arm) the group has taken nearly 4 lakhs.
We also came to know that they had some small business ventures as a group. First, they purchased large cooking vessels by taking a bank loan of 13,000 rupees. Now, they are able to rent out the vessels to anyone in their village for special occasions like weddings. The group member who maintains these vessels also receives 20 rupees a month. The group also purchased 10 rams that was raised by one member, who received 25% of the cost after the rams were raised and sold to other people. The group got the other 75%. I felt that this group was really enterprising and seemed to be very cohesive.
In addition, they have contributed to the building of a temple and
We then talked with the women about their loan usage. The pattern of loan usage seems to generally follow a pattern of “consumption, production and asset creation,” according to Myrada officials. Loans were taken out for "bore wells, petty shops, house repairs, fencing, horticulture, mangos, seeds/fertilizer, sewing machines, cows, bullocks, flower businesses and irrigation." Most of the dropouts from the group are due to migration and marriage, not the reasons that we had initially expected like bad group dynamic etc.
Finally, the women managed to band together to get rid of an arekka (alcohol) shop in the village. They banded together to contribute the 7000 rupees that the alcohol shop was paying for the funding of a local temple.
Okay more on this stuff later.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
It's a bug's life
Well after meeting with Myrada on Monday, we decided we would head up to Chitradurga on Tuesday morning. Tuesday, we got everything together, purchased bus tickets in advance and made our way to the bus station. En route we stopped to get coffee which took longer than it should have (while Cafe Coffee Day has a similar menu to Starbucks, they have not quite mastered the efficiency that comes along with receiving a cafe mocha in under 2 minutes). Suddenly we were rushed to take an auto towards the Magestic Bus Station, which was a 30 minute ride away. We hopped in an auto and he slowly made his way to the bus station. When we got there, we had five minutes before our bus. We got to platform 1 and asked someone if they knew which of the buses was embarking for Chitradurga, he gestured that we had to go back to platform three. We found the conductor yelling "durga durga durga!" and hopped on the bus. About ten or fifteen minutes later when we presented our ticket, the bus conductor laughed, " this is the karnataka state transport (KST) you have to buy a ticket for this bus."
Traveler's note: while the bus system in Karnataka is thorough, it is really confusing as to which bus you are taking; the type, the time, the route. You could have a volvo option (which I know now means a private A/C bus) or you could take the KST bus, which usually has more stops and as I was told many times "no reclining seats!"
Well instead of starting over, we stayed on our existing bus and rode for almost five hours until we reached Chitradurga Station. We then took an auto and met our contact at the Myrada office, Mr. Vijay Kumar. He was really enthusiastic and walked us through the general framework of Myrada's SHGs (self help groups). Something interesting we learned was about the way in which federations (organized groups of SHGs) and RC's (resource centers) interact and allow Myrada to have an "invisible" hand in the SHG work. After about an hour, we hopped in a jeep, driven by Rafiq (also known as Rafi), and headed to dinner at a hotel. (Travelers note: In India, eating at a hotel is actually eating at a restaurant or possibly a hotel with restaurant attached.) I had a sweet corn soup and aloo gobi and naan. (I only wrote this here to show how vivid my memory has become since I got to India!)
In any case, after making a quick stop at Mr. Kumar's house for his travel pack and at Rafi's to drop him home, we headed towards Holalkere, which is where the Myrada training center was located. We arrived and were greeted by two or three men who helped us take our bags to our cottages. I opened the door to my room and was met with a scene from "It's a Bug's Life." There were flying beetles, mosquitos, and giant spiders with the longest legs I had ever seen in every corner of the room. I immediately had a panic attack and did not know what to do, I had never felt so overwhelmed by such tiny things! I ran over to Doug's room and rapped on the door frantically, "Is your room filled with bugs!?" He was happily sitting on his bed and laughed "they don't seem to bother me." Upon closer inspection, I could see that he did not have hardly as many bugs as I had in my room and the ones that were there did not seem to bother him. He said that he would trade with me, but I felt that if I was going to be scared of bugs, then there was not much hope for me over the next few weeks, because bugs (innocuous at that) were a lot less significant than some other things. I am proud to say I did not kill a single one. Instead, I talked out loud to the spiders, the pallis (small harmless lizards -- yes akka there are TONS!), beetles, and random bugs I had never even seen before. I got dressed, too scared to take a shower and jumped underneath my mosquito net, after making sure that the spots on my net were not moving. At first, I was frightened of sleeping, I could hear the beetles bumping into the wall, the flies whirring around and probably the pitter patter of a small palli's feet. The net thing I knew, it was 7:30am.
When I awoke the next morning, I continued my strange tradition. I began to check each corner of the rooms and speak out loud to the bugs. The worst was in the bathroom because the windows are not closed, there are just metal bars, so anything that can fit, can fly in and out. I kept an eye on each giant spider, each mosquito, everything as I cautiously filled my bucket with hot water and finished my bath.
When I returned later in the afternoon, I went to use the sink when I saw the BIGGEST cockroach I have ever seen in my life. I started throwing water on him and screaming at the top of my lungs. I felt like I was trapped in the corner and I could feel the spiders in the corners just laughing at me. I threw some more water at the cockroach and darted through the bathroom door and slammed it shut. My heart was beating fast and my face was flush, I yelled out loud "okay! you got me, I'm scared!"
The first few days on this campus were really rough; I was constantly talking out loud, trying to negotiate with bugs that don't actually respond or care and trying to slowly get myself to just relax and remember that nothing here, except the mosquitos were really interested in biting me. (Or so thats the line I was fed ;)... )
Traveler's note: while the bus system in Karnataka is thorough, it is really confusing as to which bus you are taking; the type, the time, the route. You could have a volvo option (which I know now means a private A/C bus) or you could take the KST bus, which usually has more stops and as I was told many times "no reclining seats!"
Well instead of starting over, we stayed on our existing bus and rode for almost five hours until we reached Chitradurga Station. We then took an auto and met our contact at the Myrada office, Mr. Vijay Kumar. He was really enthusiastic and walked us through the general framework of Myrada's SHGs (self help groups). Something interesting we learned was about the way in which federations (organized groups of SHGs) and RC's (resource centers) interact and allow Myrada to have an "invisible" hand in the SHG work. After about an hour, we hopped in a jeep, driven by Rafiq (also known as Rafi), and headed to dinner at a hotel. (Travelers note: In India, eating at a hotel is actually eating at a restaurant or possibly a hotel with restaurant attached.) I had a sweet corn soup and aloo gobi and naan. (I only wrote this here to show how vivid my memory has become since I got to India!)
In any case, after making a quick stop at Mr. Kumar's house for his travel pack and at Rafi's to drop him home, we headed towards Holalkere, which is where the Myrada training center was located. We arrived and were greeted by two or three men who helped us take our bags to our cottages. I opened the door to my room and was met with a scene from "It's a Bug's Life." There were flying beetles, mosquitos, and giant spiders with the longest legs I had ever seen in every corner of the room. I immediately had a panic attack and did not know what to do, I had never felt so overwhelmed by such tiny things! I ran over to Doug's room and rapped on the door frantically, "Is your room filled with bugs!?" He was happily sitting on his bed and laughed "they don't seem to bother me." Upon closer inspection, I could see that he did not have hardly as many bugs as I had in my room and the ones that were there did not seem to bother him. He said that he would trade with me, but I felt that if I was going to be scared of bugs, then there was not much hope for me over the next few weeks, because bugs (innocuous at that) were a lot less significant than some other things. I am proud to say I did not kill a single one. Instead, I talked out loud to the spiders, the pallis (small harmless lizards -- yes akka there are TONS!), beetles, and random bugs I had never even seen before. I got dressed, too scared to take a shower and jumped underneath my mosquito net, after making sure that the spots on my net were not moving. At first, I was frightened of sleeping, I could hear the beetles bumping into the wall, the flies whirring around and probably the pitter patter of a small palli's feet. The net thing I knew, it was 7:30am.
When I awoke the next morning, I continued my strange tradition. I began to check each corner of the rooms and speak out loud to the bugs. The worst was in the bathroom because the windows are not closed, there are just metal bars, so anything that can fit, can fly in and out. I kept an eye on each giant spider, each mosquito, everything as I cautiously filled my bucket with hot water and finished my bath.
When I returned later in the afternoon, I went to use the sink when I saw the BIGGEST cockroach I have ever seen in my life. I started throwing water on him and screaming at the top of my lungs. I felt like I was trapped in the corner and I could feel the spiders in the corners just laughing at me. I threw some more water at the cockroach and darted through the bathroom door and slammed it shut. My heart was beating fast and my face was flush, I yelled out loud "okay! you got me, I'm scared!"
The first few days on this campus were really rough; I was constantly talking out loud, trying to negotiate with bugs that don't actually respond or care and trying to slowly get myself to just relax and remember that nothing here, except the mosquitos were really interested in biting me. (Or so thats the line I was fed ;)... )
Monday, June 25, 2007
Ready, Set, No?
Getting to my final project site here, in Holalkere, Karnataka has been an unexpected adventure. I thought I would get on a bus, then another bus and meet an NGO staff, and begin my research process. This was certainly not the case...
I finished packing Sunday afternoon and was just sitting and talking to Alan on skype until it was time to leave which was around 9:00pm. Once my RA, Doug, arrived, we hopped in an auto en route to Egmore rail station, where we had to catch our bus to Bangalore. After some confusion, we ended up on Kenneth Lane (the same road as the Pandian hotel) and found our way to where Parveen travels had a large luxury bus waiting. When we boarded the bus, the gentleman looked at our tickets and laughed, "you are on the wrong bus!" he said to us in a mix of Tamil and English. Upon closer examination of the tickets, we realized that the bus from Egmore departed at 8:45pm, but the bus from Royapeta only left at 10pm, going to Bangalore. I'm not exactly sure what happened next, but he allowed us to stay on the bus, and we began to leave Chennai. There were only a handful of others on the bus. In the meantime, our driver said he would radio the bus we were actually supposed to be on and mention to them, that we were on his bus.
About 30 minutes later, we arrived at another bus station and were asked to get our belongings and jump on another bus. Like everything else in India, the people there seem to have a sense of how to take care of things, even when you don't think there is anything to be done. We boarded the other bus, which was meant for Bangalore. I still don't know whether this was the bus we were meant to get on originally, or if he finagled two seats on another bus, what I did know was that we were finally on the way to Bangalore. (Side note, people here like to help tourists, to the point of extremely bossy behavior.)
I luckily got a seat next to one of the few women on board, and Doug was diagonally across the aisle sitting next to a man, who was really restless throughout the course of the ride. The bus was not bad at all, it allowed passengers to fully recline and even provided a warm blanket and a bottle of water. Unfortunately for me, I was paranoid about luggage on a bus, after hearing one too many horror stories from the other interns. As a result, I had Louie's bag underneath my feet. This resulted in minimal leg room for me, and even though I eventually fell asleep, I kept waking up because my legs were cramped.
I woke up at around 3:30, to find that the woman seated next to me, Smriti, was getting off the bus. I fell back asleep, until I heard a loud voice yelling for everyone to get off the bus. "Last stop!" he cried in Tamil (I think). I looked outside and realized that we had been dropped off in the middle of a lonely street at 4 in the morning. Doug and I gathered our things and unsuccessfully bargained with an auto driver, who finally offered to take us to our hotel in Koramangala (Bangalore) for the moderate price of 170 rupees. (Note to travelers - after 9:30pm, Bangalore auto drivers are legally able to charge twice the fare price. In addition, they seem to think that this also implies that they do not have to put on their meter during late-night fares... I am so glad NYC taxi drivers do not have such rules.)
In any case, our driver dropped us off in a neighborhood close to Forum Mall, where the IFMR Bangalore office/apartment is located. We went through a small front gate, around back and climbed three short flights of stairs till we got to the door of the office. We tried to open one of the windows, because another IFMR associate had mentioned that they would leave the key in the window. However, there was no key to be found. We were SOL.
At this moment, I was exhausted and starving because I had not eaten anything since 2pm that day, in fear of having to use a bathroom en route to Bangalore. Doug called this interesting toll-free Indian number (8888888), "get it now" which allowed you to call and get phone numbers for virtually anything. It started sending him information on hotels in the area. We called one place and they said they had a double room available for check-in. We lugged our stuff to the main road and waited until patiently until we got an auto, who informed us it would be another 150 rupees to our new destination. The roads were eerily empty because of the late hour. We began to drive to a part of town that had awful roads and limited street lights. As we drove, we happened to come upon a parking lot where vegetable vendors were bargaining with suppliers. There were several wooden hand-drawn carts and men dressed in dhothis lining the streets. Our auto maneuvered through trucks and the wooden carts and finally got us to the neighborhood where our hotel was.
We got a little lost, but eventually found a hotel, deep in a very bizarre part of the city, on a corner. Doug stepped out of the auto and approached the front door of the hotel. After a minute or so, the door opened by a very sleepy-looking security guard and a bemused desk attendant, who was young but balding. Doug and I gave each other a sidelong glance and he mumbled to me, whether this was a good idea. He suggested we look at the room, so the desk attendant bellowed. Suddenly, what I thought was a sheet on the floor, sprang up from the floor - it was the "bell boy." I was startled, but pretended that it was completely normal as he led us into the elevator, that promptly began to play some interesting light jazz. He opened the door to one room, which was okay, but for the fact that that it needed to be cleaned. We took the jazz elevator back down and spoke to the manager and let him know that there was other rooms available. He began to explain that no rooms were available until 7 or 8 am. As he continued his explanation, that was largely directed towards Doug, I glanced over to the small lobby area, when out of nowhere, a giant animal ran across the floor at top speed. Halfway through its journey across the lobby, I realized it was a giant rat. I gasped loudly, and looked at Doug with eyes bulging out of my head due to fear. The hotel manager simply laughed, like a small puppy had run through the lobby. My heart was beating so quickly, and I immediately began to scan the room for any other rodents.
At that moment, Doug happened to get another phone call, while I spoke with the hotel manager who assured me that his other "sister" hotel would have other rooms. He said that because of some convention that we should stay in their neighborhood. I politely listened as Doug spoke on the phone and waited, till he mentioned that he found rooms elsewhere. He asked me if we should try and go to the other place, that he found back in Koramangala. I sighed relief, and agreed with him. We walked back to the main road till we found another auto driver, who was kind enough to take us again for 150 rupees back to where we were. (ha!) By this time, the sun had come up, and more cars had taken to the road. We arrived on a small residential street, across from Jyothi Bakery. A gentleman, who also seemed to have just woken up, led us to the room. I walked in and immediately, I was at peace - the room was clean, no rats in site. I promptly passed out.
The rest of the day was rather uneventful, just checked into the IFMR office, did some work from there and made a necessary trip to Cafe Coffee Day. (Sort of an Indian starbucks that also happens to serve chicken tikka sandwiches among others.)
In the evening, I took an auto to Wilson Garden where I spent two wonderful hours with Shantha Mami who had made a lovely dinner of poori masal, yogurt rice and so many wonderful varieties of mango pickles. I felt like I was home. I later visited Mani Uncle's home and saw Chitra Aunty and Veda and Surya and Mama. It was really nice to visit with them, even though it was brief. I will hopefully be able to see them before I leave Karnataka.
Later, they were worried about me going home so late, so I called Doug and asked if he could get me on his way back from dinner. When I got into the auto the driver promptly turned off the vehicle and decided that he wanted more money. He then got out of the car and proceeded to try and talk with random strangers to get them to translate his demands into English. Both people who walked by, a pizza delivery guy and a random neighbor mentioned that he was just hiking prices because we were tourists and that he should show us some respect and treat us like regular Bangalore people. He eventually settled at 30 rupees higher than agreed, and drove us back to the hotel. When we arrived, he apologized for his behavior. Oh auto-karan, you trouble me so! :)
ps. Happy Birthday Mom :)!
I finished packing Sunday afternoon and was just sitting and talking to Alan on skype until it was time to leave which was around 9:00pm. Once my RA, Doug, arrived, we hopped in an auto en route to Egmore rail station, where we had to catch our bus to Bangalore. After some confusion, we ended up on Kenneth Lane (the same road as the Pandian hotel) and found our way to where Parveen travels had a large luxury bus waiting. When we boarded the bus, the gentleman looked at our tickets and laughed, "you are on the wrong bus!" he said to us in a mix of Tamil and English. Upon closer examination of the tickets, we realized that the bus from Egmore departed at 8:45pm, but the bus from Royapeta only left at 10pm, going to Bangalore. I'm not exactly sure what happened next, but he allowed us to stay on the bus, and we began to leave Chennai. There were only a handful of others on the bus. In the meantime, our driver said he would radio the bus we were actually supposed to be on and mention to them, that we were on his bus.
About 30 minutes later, we arrived at another bus station and were asked to get our belongings and jump on another bus. Like everything else in India, the people there seem to have a sense of how to take care of things, even when you don't think there is anything to be done. We boarded the other bus, which was meant for Bangalore. I still don't know whether this was the bus we were meant to get on originally, or if he finagled two seats on another bus, what I did know was that we were finally on the way to Bangalore. (Side note, people here like to help tourists, to the point of extremely bossy behavior.)
I luckily got a seat next to one of the few women on board, and Doug was diagonally across the aisle sitting next to a man, who was really restless throughout the course of the ride. The bus was not bad at all, it allowed passengers to fully recline and even provided a warm blanket and a bottle of water. Unfortunately for me, I was paranoid about luggage on a bus, after hearing one too many horror stories from the other interns. As a result, I had Louie's bag underneath my feet. This resulted in minimal leg room for me, and even though I eventually fell asleep, I kept waking up because my legs were cramped.
I woke up at around 3:30, to find that the woman seated next to me, Smriti, was getting off the bus. I fell back asleep, until I heard a loud voice yelling for everyone to get off the bus. "Last stop!" he cried in Tamil (I think). I looked outside and realized that we had been dropped off in the middle of a lonely street at 4 in the morning. Doug and I gathered our things and unsuccessfully bargained with an auto driver, who finally offered to take us to our hotel in Koramangala (Bangalore) for the moderate price of 170 rupees. (Note to travelers - after 9:30pm, Bangalore auto drivers are legally able to charge twice the fare price. In addition, they seem to think that this also implies that they do not have to put on their meter during late-night fares... I am so glad NYC taxi drivers do not have such rules.)
In any case, our driver dropped us off in a neighborhood close to Forum Mall, where the IFMR Bangalore office/apartment is located. We went through a small front gate, around back and climbed three short flights of stairs till we got to the door of the office. We tried to open one of the windows, because another IFMR associate had mentioned that they would leave the key in the window. However, there was no key to be found. We were SOL.
At this moment, I was exhausted and starving because I had not eaten anything since 2pm that day, in fear of having to use a bathroom en route to Bangalore. Doug called this interesting toll-free Indian number (8888888), "get it now" which allowed you to call and get phone numbers for virtually anything. It started sending him information on hotels in the area. We called one place and they said they had a double room available for check-in. We lugged our stuff to the main road and waited until patiently until we got an auto, who informed us it would be another 150 rupees to our new destination. The roads were eerily empty because of the late hour. We began to drive to a part of town that had awful roads and limited street lights. As we drove, we happened to come upon a parking lot where vegetable vendors were bargaining with suppliers. There were several wooden hand-drawn carts and men dressed in dhothis lining the streets. Our auto maneuvered through trucks and the wooden carts and finally got us to the neighborhood where our hotel was.
We got a little lost, but eventually found a hotel, deep in a very bizarre part of the city, on a corner. Doug stepped out of the auto and approached the front door of the hotel. After a minute or so, the door opened by a very sleepy-looking security guard and a bemused desk attendant, who was young but balding. Doug and I gave each other a sidelong glance and he mumbled to me, whether this was a good idea. He suggested we look at the room, so the desk attendant bellowed. Suddenly, what I thought was a sheet on the floor, sprang up from the floor - it was the "bell boy." I was startled, but pretended that it was completely normal as he led us into the elevator, that promptly began to play some interesting light jazz. He opened the door to one room, which was okay, but for the fact that that it needed to be cleaned. We took the jazz elevator back down and spoke to the manager and let him know that there was other rooms available. He began to explain that no rooms were available until 7 or 8 am. As he continued his explanation, that was largely directed towards Doug, I glanced over to the small lobby area, when out of nowhere, a giant animal ran across the floor at top speed. Halfway through its journey across the lobby, I realized it was a giant rat. I gasped loudly, and looked at Doug with eyes bulging out of my head due to fear. The hotel manager simply laughed, like a small puppy had run through the lobby. My heart was beating so quickly, and I immediately began to scan the room for any other rodents.
At that moment, Doug happened to get another phone call, while I spoke with the hotel manager who assured me that his other "sister" hotel would have other rooms. He said that because of some convention that we should stay in their neighborhood. I politely listened as Doug spoke on the phone and waited, till he mentioned that he found rooms elsewhere. He asked me if we should try and go to the other place, that he found back in Koramangala. I sighed relief, and agreed with him. We walked back to the main road till we found another auto driver, who was kind enough to take us again for 150 rupees back to where we were. (ha!) By this time, the sun had come up, and more cars had taken to the road. We arrived on a small residential street, across from Jyothi Bakery. A gentleman, who also seemed to have just woken up, led us to the room. I walked in and immediately, I was at peace - the room was clean, no rats in site. I promptly passed out.
The rest of the day was rather uneventful, just checked into the IFMR office, did some work from there and made a necessary trip to Cafe Coffee Day. (Sort of an Indian starbucks that also happens to serve chicken tikka sandwiches among others.)
In the evening, I took an auto to Wilson Garden where I spent two wonderful hours with Shantha Mami who had made a lovely dinner of poori masal, yogurt rice and so many wonderful varieties of mango pickles. I felt like I was home. I later visited Mani Uncle's home and saw Chitra Aunty and Veda and Surya and Mama. It was really nice to visit with them, even though it was brief. I will hopefully be able to see them before I leave Karnataka.
Later, they were worried about me going home so late, so I called Doug and asked if he could get me on his way back from dinner. When I got into the auto the driver promptly turned off the vehicle and decided that he wanted more money. He then got out of the car and proceeded to try and talk with random strangers to get them to translate his demands into English. Both people who walked by, a pizza delivery guy and a random neighbor mentioned that he was just hiking prices because we were tourists and that he should show us some respect and treat us like regular Bangalore people. He eventually settled at 30 rupees higher than agreed, and drove us back to the hotel. When we arrived, he apologized for his behavior. Oh auto-karan, you trouble me so! :)
ps. Happy Birthday Mom :)!
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
case of the mondays
This might sound harsh, but I have to say it. I don't really like Chennai all that much at this moment in time. Most people would attribute this to the pollution and dirty streets but I attribute it to auto drivers. I have had so many bad experiences with auto drivers in the last three weeks that they have really left a bad taste in my mouth. This morning my auto driver agreed to a rate of 40 rupees from Nungumbakkam to Fountain Plaza in Egmore. After we arrived, I asked him if he knew the address and he responded "we don't know things like addresses." Then he proceeded to tell me that I should give him 50 rupees because he had to come around the overpass to drop me off on the other side, to which I responded in Tamil "I didn't plan the traffic, we agreed to 40 rupees, take it or leave it." He asked if I was threatening to not give him any wages. He asked in Tamil again, "oh so you won't give me any money at all?" I responded "you can take it or leave it, this is what we agreed." I walked out of the taxi after shoving the money in his hand and said something along the lines of "You know I am not a complete idiot." He gave me a really dirty look and I glared at him right back. This irritation was exacerbated by the fact that I had a bad run-in with another auto driver, who gave me the fake 10 rupee note the day before. In addition, I was late to work and had absolutely no clue where I was.
I ended up walking up and down Pantheon Road for almost thirty minutes not knowing how to get to the Egmore office. (I had the address, but street numbers, street names and other such "conveniences" don't often exist in extremely urban parts of India.) I eventually bumped into Chitra, an intern at CDF and we again walked up and down, confused as to where this supposed 8 story building could be. Turns out the building isn't directly on Pantheon Road, and since there are no building numbers its almost impossible to know how to get places.
Eventually, I called Sybill and she had Jessica and John Paul help us figure out where to go. John Paul was so sweet, he came down from the office and met us at the children's museum right across from the office. I eventually cooled down, and after an hour or so around the other CMF interns in our very raucous conference room, I had forgotten about the incident.
The best part of the day was during lunchtime when a group of us went downstairs to the juice guy, and I got a fresh banana mango juice, squeezed fresh on the spot. The taste was fantastic, and the price, 20 rupees was definitely unbeatable. I proceeded to drink some version of a mango shake for the rest of the week.
I ended up walking up and down Pantheon Road for almost thirty minutes not knowing how to get to the Egmore office. (I had the address, but street numbers, street names and other such "conveniences" don't often exist in extremely urban parts of India.) I eventually bumped into Chitra, an intern at CDF and we again walked up and down, confused as to where this supposed 8 story building could be. Turns out the building isn't directly on Pantheon Road, and since there are no building numbers its almost impossible to know how to get places.
Eventually, I called Sybill and she had Jessica and John Paul help us figure out where to go. John Paul was so sweet, he came down from the office and met us at the children's museum right across from the office. I eventually cooled down, and after an hour or so around the other CMF interns in our very raucous conference room, I had forgotten about the incident.
The best part of the day was during lunchtime when a group of us went downstairs to the juice guy, and I got a fresh banana mango juice, squeezed fresh on the spot. The taste was fantastic, and the price, 20 rupees was definitely unbeatable. I proceeded to drink some version of a mango shake for the rest of the week.
Monday, June 18, 2007
training week 2
Well this week of training, I felt was slightly gratuitous. There were some interesting speakers, but overall, I was not enthused to be sitting in a classroom non-stop for 8-12 hours a day. The material got a little repetitive and I think most of the interns were feeling antsy about really getting started on their projects.
We did still manage to make it a great week. I have to say (if I haven't already) that it is really nice to find like minded people who are also easy to get along with. I have really enjoyed getting to know all of the interns.
We had hindi movie night with pizza and beer during one evening. We watched Dilwale Dulhanya Le Jayenge (DDLJ for short). I am sure I butchered the spelling. According to one friend it was the coming of age film for Generation X. (Including some really hilarious scenes of a bunch of Indian people on the beach in very short, neon bathing wear.) We also managed to make it to Saravana Bhavan (a cheap but tasty eatery) near the Pandian at least twice in the same week.
A definite highlight of training was the visit to IIT, where we got to watch a demonstration of an ATM that has been designed for rural areas. It is smaller, lighter and cheaper. Moreover, the machine has biometric authentication (fingerprinting) so that users who cannot read can still utilize funding from the bank. Check out Jess' blog for more details...
Not too much to report, except that we all breathed a sigh of relief when training was over, we were all ready to get started...
We did still manage to make it a great week. I have to say (if I haven't already) that it is really nice to find like minded people who are also easy to get along with. I have really enjoyed getting to know all of the interns.
We had hindi movie night with pizza and beer during one evening. We watched Dilwale Dulhanya Le Jayenge (DDLJ for short). I am sure I butchered the spelling. According to one friend it was the coming of age film for Generation X. (Including some really hilarious scenes of a bunch of Indian people on the beach in very short, neon bathing wear.) We also managed to make it to Saravana Bhavan (a cheap but tasty eatery) near the Pandian at least twice in the same week.
A definite highlight of training was the visit to IIT, where we got to watch a demonstration of an ATM that has been designed for rural areas. It is smaller, lighter and cheaper. Moreover, the machine has biometric authentication (fingerprinting) so that users who cannot read can still utilize funding from the bank. Check out Jess' blog for more details...
Not too much to report, except that we all breathed a sigh of relief when training was over, we were all ready to get started...
Sunday, June 17, 2007
you're not a hindu!
On Sunday morning I awoke from a nice long sleep and got dressed to go to the temple. I met some people for breakfast and then we walked ten or so minutes through the ever-busy Madurai streets. Upon arriving at the temple, we took our shoes off and then walked across the extremely hot (ouch I can't step on the ground) pavement and made a beeline for the small shaded area along the side of the temple entrance. Once inside, we walked towards the ticket booth. There were at least a thousand people just in the main corridor. There were small wedding parties, all these men and women heavily garlanded surrounded by family and friends and I am assuming the rest were tourists from within India and abroad, because this was not the type of crowd you would want to traverse just to get a glimpse of the Meenakshi idol.
My friends, who were all from France thought it best for me to try and go into the temple alone since "non Hindus" are not allowed inside the main chamber. I made my way to the ticket booth to purchase one camera ticket for Edward and an admission ticket for me. The "line" was just a giant group of men, who were all fighting for a space at the window. Determined, I pushed past some of them and finally reached the window. As I was about to open my mouth, another man came right up next to my arm and started to ask and I yelled "This is a line!" My words fell on deaf ears, lines do not exist in India. I then proceeded to ask the ticket gentleman for a ticket and one camera pass. He mumbled something and threw my money back at me and then eventually wrote a camera ticket. I patiently asked him in Tamil "enna achu?" (what happened?) I was really confused as to what was going on. He again grunted something, gave me a dirty look and sent me packing. I realized, as I walked a few steps away, that he had only given me a camera ticket and not a Meenakshi temple ticket. I went back to the counter and asked again, "enna achu?". He again mumbled something indecipherable. This time, I got annoyed and began speaking in English. I asked again and finally realized that he didn't have change and wanted me to pay 15 rupees for the ticket with change. I said "thats all you had to say!" and under my breath I said "jesus" in frustration. From the back of the small office, a man yelled "Don't say Jesus, we are Hindus, we don't believe in Jesus." I, completely fiery at this point, yelled back that "I was raised to believe that we accepted all religions, thats the Hinduism I learned." To which this gentleman and the ticket man responded "you are no Hindu." I yelled back "I am too a Hindu, how dare you talk to me like that!" and stormed away from the window. I was completely taken aback, and really upset because I felt really insulted by their words, this was not the Hinduism I knew.
I eventually got in line and waited 15 or so minutes, until I finally got to the main area. (This temple sort of reminded me of a ride at great adventure.) As I finally got to see Madurai Meenakshi, a black statue set deep into the chamber, with glowing lights all around her, I was yelled at by the priest and Madurai Meenakshi's "bouncer" to "Go!" The gentleman who had been standing in front of me, had been kicked out because he had prayed too long and the families behind me were pushing, even the four year old children. The priest continued to yell at me so I yelled right back. (big surprise right?) I said to him " This is a place of god, you can't yell at people when they are praying!" I was really respectful and patient, but he just kept yelling for me to go. It was so frustrating, I ended up storming off and as I looked back he gave me the "yeah see thats how it is!" look.
Needless to say, I made a promise that the next time I went to a temple, it would be small and there would be no great adventure like line, because it really isn't worth it. After all, as I have been told many times, you don't need to go to a temple to pray or think about god - which is how I feel about it anyway. My overall impression is that the types of people who work at the temple and even attend the temple (aside from tourists) are mostly functional Hindus, they follow rules that are dictated to them by society, but they never question why things are the way they are. I suppose that this hinders thier ability to be tolerant of other religions/practices. (I would be interested to see what people think about this...)
My friends, who were all from France thought it best for me to try and go into the temple alone since "non Hindus" are not allowed inside the main chamber. I made my way to the ticket booth to purchase one camera ticket for Edward and an admission ticket for me. The "line" was just a giant group of men, who were all fighting for a space at the window. Determined, I pushed past some of them and finally reached the window. As I was about to open my mouth, another man came right up next to my arm and started to ask and I yelled "This is a line!" My words fell on deaf ears, lines do not exist in India. I then proceeded to ask the ticket gentleman for a ticket and one camera pass. He mumbled something and threw my money back at me and then eventually wrote a camera ticket. I patiently asked him in Tamil "enna achu?" (what happened?) I was really confused as to what was going on. He again grunted something, gave me a dirty look and sent me packing. I realized, as I walked a few steps away, that he had only given me a camera ticket and not a Meenakshi temple ticket. I went back to the counter and asked again, "enna achu?". He again mumbled something indecipherable. This time, I got annoyed and began speaking in English. I asked again and finally realized that he didn't have change and wanted me to pay 15 rupees for the ticket with change. I said "thats all you had to say!" and under my breath I said "jesus" in frustration. From the back of the small office, a man yelled "Don't say Jesus, we are Hindus, we don't believe in Jesus." I, completely fiery at this point, yelled back that "I was raised to believe that we accepted all religions, thats the Hinduism I learned." To which this gentleman and the ticket man responded "you are no Hindu." I yelled back "I am too a Hindu, how dare you talk to me like that!" and stormed away from the window. I was completely taken aback, and really upset because I felt really insulted by their words, this was not the Hinduism I knew.
I eventually got in line and waited 15 or so minutes, until I finally got to the main area. (This temple sort of reminded me of a ride at great adventure.) As I finally got to see Madurai Meenakshi, a black statue set deep into the chamber, with glowing lights all around her, I was yelled at by the priest and Madurai Meenakshi's "bouncer" to "Go!" The gentleman who had been standing in front of me, had been kicked out because he had prayed too long and the families behind me were pushing, even the four year old children. The priest continued to yell at me so I yelled right back. (big surprise right?) I said to him " This is a place of god, you can't yell at people when they are praying!" I was really respectful and patient, but he just kept yelling for me to go. It was so frustrating, I ended up storming off and as I looked back he gave me the "yeah see thats how it is!" look.
Needless to say, I made a promise that the next time I went to a temple, it would be small and there would be no great adventure like line, because it really isn't worth it. After all, as I have been told many times, you don't need to go to a temple to pray or think about god - which is how I feel about it anyway. My overall impression is that the types of people who work at the temple and even attend the temple (aside from tourists) are mostly functional Hindus, they follow rules that are dictated to them by society, but they never question why things are the way they are. I suppose that this hinders thier ability to be tolerant of other religions/practices. (I would be interested to see what people think about this...)
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Mahabillipuram
Well after two weeks of training, the entire group was looking to get away and relax. (Oh I know I said we wanted to work, but come on!) :)... Some people headed up to Mahabillipuram on Friday night and others headed there Saturday..
I was in the saturday contingent. I left my hostel and caught an auto and met Jess and Nicole at the Pandian. We jumped in the same auto after shrewdly bargaining and made our way to the bus station.
Once we arrived, we settled at the Siva Guest House (which is a really cute little place in this small neighborhood that is rather chill and designed for tourists... its in the Lonely Planet for those of you who might visit!)
We then had breakfast at this little French/Indian place called "Le Yogi" which, is one of my favorite places...Ever! I got crepes with banana and nutella and a black tea... Their menu was just what I needed after 2 weeks of poori masal for breakfast.. (The restaurant is pictured at the right... it was so relaxing inside, just a fan and good music...everyone sitting on the floor or on small benches.)
We ended up doing a lot of really nice, relaxing things... Walked around, saw some of the sculptures that are now housed in this large park. 
Later, some of us took fishing boats out and went swimming in the ocean. (The waves kicked my a$$!) In the late evening, we had dinner.. some beers..and just hung out..it was great...
Later, some of us took fishing boats out and went swimming in the ocean. (The waves kicked my a$$!) In the late evening, we had dinner.. some beers..and just hung out..it was great... The next morning some of us walked along the beach for almost two hours and took pictures and talked. (Pictured below are Christian and Jessica. Right now I don't have time to adjust the HTML, so just pretend they are in a row instead of scattered randomly throughout.) 
We eventually made our way back to Le Yogi, where I had a lovely meal of meusli and mixed fruit (mmm!). Then four of us, Sybille, Christian, Jess and I took the city bus back to Chennai. It was really hectic to figure out how to get on the bus. (Traveler's note: auto drivers and everyone else will tell you to take an auto to the main road to increase the likelihood of catching a bus, but in fact, they do come right into the bus station area on the main road.) It was great, Christian and I sat on the steps of the bus in front of an open door pretty much the entire way. (I have some good video of the road, that I will eventually put on youtube.)
We eventually made our way back to Le Yogi, where I had a lovely meal of meusli and mixed fruit (mmm!). Then four of us, Sybille, Christian, Jess and I took the city bus back to Chennai. It was really hectic to figure out how to get on the bus. (Traveler's note: auto drivers and everyone else will tell you to take an auto to the main road to increase the likelihood of catching a bus, but in fact, they do come right into the bus station area on the main road.) It was great, Christian and I sat on the steps of the bus in front of an open door pretty much the entire way. (I have some good video of the road, that I will eventually put on youtube.)this weekend was a lot of fun..and super relaxing.. im glad we did this!
Back in chennai...
In the evening, we four met up for dinner at Vasantha Bhavan - easily my favorite place to eat in Chennai. Why? because theres this nice "uncle" who came over to our table and began chatting with us. Once he found out I spoke tamil, he was really excited and would try to enter our conversation to ask random little questions. We went back later that week and he is always so nice, asking questions, making sure had everything we needed. The bus boy started to call me "akka" (big sister) which is a nice way to demonstrate respect/affection. (What was funny about this man, and lots of people that we encounter is that if they know that I speak Tamil, they suddenly "cannot understand" the other people at the table, especially if they aren't Indian. Therefore, they will talk only to me and ask for "clarification" when others are ordering even if they said the EXACT same thing. Ie. Jessica says "I would like a MA SA LA CHAI" and the gentleman would look at me and say "enna chonna?" (what did she say?) and I would repeat verbatim "she would like MA SA LA CHAI" and suddenly the foggy expression would be a knowing smile "Oh of course!") hahaha..totally psychological. :)
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