Nov 14th is Children's day in India. The universal date is actually Nov 20th, but in honor of Pandit Jawaharial Nehru, India's first prime minister who was very fond of children, the holiday is celebrated on his birthday.

For this special day the program I work within, Cheyutha, which is a program that is for people living with HIV/AIDS had a picnic for all the affected and infected children. I had the opportunity to invite 4 of my other friends from Hyderabad, knowing that the love kids and expecting the kids would be very excited by new, foreign faces.

The first 15 minutes of the picnic was beyond awkward. As lunch was being served to all of us all we could do was sit quietly, eating our yellow rice, slowly recalling the reality that communication with these children would be difficult, as most of them only speak Telegu, no Hindi or English. Though the first few minutes felt as if it were an eternity we progressively started to remember that with young children language is not a barrier. Within minutes we were all being enclosed by the kids dragging us to play games. The next thing we knew we ended up knee deep in the water fountain in the middle of the park. Everyone was splashing each other, and all the kids were colluding against my friends to somehow push them into the water. To add to my happiness, I got the opportunity to bond with my co workers, who are normally reserved with me because of the communication barrier. However that day they put barriers behind them and grabbed my hand, dragging me in the fountain up to my chest!
(Lola this made me think of you and how you desperately wanted to play in a fountain before we left Barcelona and how we had to do the ocean instead at 4:30 in the morning!)
As the afternoon grew hotter, but we remained cool from our new bath we continued on to very unorganized but tremendously fun series of games such as cricket, tug of war, 3 legged race which became a six legged race with me, tag, and other Telegu games that I progressively learned. As Jason (one of the friends who joined us) put it, these children were the most polite and caring children I have ever seen in such a large group. They were all concerned about each other and acknowledged each other’s needs.

Playing with the kids really brought all of us join. In particular it brought me joy to see my friends remember the constant battle these children have, they are all either HIV positive, or their parents are. I see the reality of these situations every day at work, whether it be in San Francisco or India. I often feel I live in two different worlds. The world of my work that brings social issues directly to my attention, and my friends and family, who are not surrounded by these issues and who work in a sector that these issues aren’t obvious. In San Francisco it often saddened me after I spoke about my work for a minute or two my friends would often ask me to stop, saying it was too sad for them to listen to; telling me I was being depressing. This always confused me as this is a reality people should be aware of. Just as people feel it is important to stay abreast of world issues and politics, these social issues are also a very strong part of reality. Yet I feel a large amount of people feel it overwhelming and chose to ignore it. It was such a pleasant change for me to be around people who were excited to have this unique experience, had more questions and really appreciated the knowledge, no matter how sad it may be.

My Punjabi Diwali

Link to more photos from the weekend:
http://uci.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2180368&l=625ba&id=6011342

Diwali, the festival of lights, is one of the most celebrated holidays in India. Generally it is a family occasion, which makes it a little more difficult for a foreigner like myself to participate in the real traditional Diwali festivities. However, I am very lucky to have made such great friends in Hyderabad, where my friend Saheba (from Delhi but works in Hyderabad) invited a friend Katie and I for a glorious Punjabi Diwali with her and her family.

First we started in Hyderabad where we did Puja (a type of prayers) at Saheba’s family’s’ factory. Then we went off to get Mendhi (Hena as some might know it as) at a beautiful little Mandir (Hindi Temple), followed by an incredible trip to the Gurdwara, the Sikh house of prayer. As my first time in a Gurdwara I was lucky enough to experience it during Diwali, the festival of lights. The whole Gurdwara was covered in the glow of candles in celebration. As we gave our shoes to the man collecting them (as you are not allowed to wear them inside) I was taken aback by him touching his fore head to the tip of each shoe he collected. After inquiring I found out that it is believed that a blessed soul could enter at any moment, and no one knows who that may be, so he gives that respect to everyone; I was so touched. After going inside, saying prayers and receiving our Prasad (an Indian sweet that has been blessed) we continued out to the courtyard which had a giant pool of water, which is considered holy water for one to drink all the way to bathe in. The reflection of the beautifully constructed Gurdwara over the water with the night sky in the background and the peaceful Japu (holy hymns) playing in the background gave me an indescribable amount of peace and contentment.

We continue on to Saheba’s “immediate” family Diwali party which includes over fifty people! Everyone was so nice, open and funny! Outside we had fireworks and sparklers to play with, and a few men from the street decided to join in and start playing the dohl (drum typical to Punjabi music) in the background. I could literally step back at that point and feel like I am in my Indian movie!

The next day we leave for Amristar, Punjab in a train with Saheba and her family. Our first stop is to the Golden Temple, a massive Gurdwara which is what Amristar is known for. The beauty of this place is indescribable. Its set up again includes a gigantic pool for people to bless themselves with by either touching, drinking or bathing in. The temple, in the center of the pool of water with a simple bridge connecting to it is made out of gold and stands strongly, elegantly and with a strong aura of power. The beauty and serenity of this Gurdwara was captivating and it was difficult for me to leave.

Finally we left the city of Amristar to go to a small village in which Saheba’s parent’s Guru lives. This Guru is actually a direct decent of Guru Nanak, basically the Guru that started Sikhism. We were privileged enough to stay at his house in the village for one night. In the morning Katie and I took a wonderful long walk into the village by the never ending fields while horse drawn carts full of people slowly passed us.

Oh and the gluttony! The Guru had his very own parata (an Indian dish that is amazingly yummy) cart in his backyard. Katie and I got to learn how to make paratas (Katie was amazing, I was horrible at it) and then gorge on paratas with different sides all day and all night.

Overall in this incredible weekend, I could have only asked for one thing more, my family to have been there to enjoy it with me. This was the most I have missed them since I have been gone and watching a family interact, I recalled and cherished so many memories.

Qawwali

Through the years I have been participating in outreach work for different communities, I have seen many unique and creative ways to bring awareness to the subject at hand. I have always been in awe of how dedicated some people are to the cause and how they can use their unique talents to create an overall understanding.

In Hyderabad, I have recently seen one of the best examples of using that talent for a higher cause. The field work team that I work with, along with another man (of whose talent I will be speaking about) put together a program to bring awareness about HIV/AIDS and Leprosy to young kids in the slums. This man did this by writing and singing Qawwalis that gave general information about Leprosy and AIDS.

Qawwalis started out as being devotional music created by the Sufis. It is very vibrant music that is now enjoying its main stream popularity. This man, along with his “band” sat down in the middle of the slums and just started playing, using his singing voice, a harmonium and two Tablas (Indian Drums). Instantly dozens of children (and some parents) raced out of their homes to join the excitement, and were instantly captivated by the music and his words.

Though the words are very general, it really brings a subtle awareness to these children about issues they would have not even heard of before. Now they at least might be empowered to ask questions in the future.

Dassara in Bangalore and Mysore

Dassara is the 9th day of the festival of lights; which I celebrated in Bangalore with some other fellows that live there and some that decided to visit. First we started out with a wonderful night on the town in Bangalore. The following day all six of us prepared ourselves for the three hour bus ride to Mysore, a small city outside of Bangalore, where the Dassara festival is largely celebrated. There we were able to stay at Meneka’s cousin’s place with a sweet family including aunty, her two sons and her father (who had amazing stories to share). In Mysore we were able to see the Mysore castle that was beautifully decorated for Dassara and the procession.

Pictures from the weekend:

http://uci.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2173351&l=6f32b&id=6011342

Navratri the Right Way!!

Celebrating Navratri has always been exciting from me back in California. I can recall weeks of excitement, going from Cal Poly Pamona Garba Rass to UCLA’s to Irvine’s, etc. This year I was privileged enough to celebrate Navratri the right way, in Gujarat!! Two of the Service Fellows, who are located in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, home of the biggest Navratri celebrations, kindly opened their doors to us like family. Four other fellows joined us from different cities and seven of us got to spend the weekend enjoying each other’s much missed company and the exciting tradition of dancing for Navratri.

Navratri is a Hindu Festival of worship and dance. Navratri means nine days, in which the goddesses of Hindu religion are celebrated.

Included are pictures of us dressed up for the occasion as well as others who were wearing the traditional dress with all their beautiful colors.

For the rest of the pictures you can go to:

http://uci.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2171519&l=b3c32&id=6011342

Outreach Work

Today I tagged along with the head outreach worker at my program. The outreach workers are a group of HIV positive people that choose to use their status to benefit others. They go into the hospitals and communities in search of pregnant woman, encouraging them to get tested for HIV…all in hopes of preventing their children from contracting HIV during birth. Overall the experience in the hospital was unique. I was escorted through the HIV division where I was able to converse with all the doctors and counselors, while being explained the process. One of the doctors introduced me to a HIV patient that also has TB and explained his symptoms to me. Last week I saw a Leprosy patient. It’s so interesting to observe health problems that are almost nonexistent in the states anymore.
The hospital was a mad house, lacking any sense of order. As I walked into the phlebotomy lab I was trampled by eager patients that had in all probability waited hours to simply get their blood drawn. There was no order, there was no privacy. Families congregated on the floor in hallways pulling out their “tiffins” (metal Tupperware to store food) and having their meal. During orientation we were informed how public hospitals ran, but I had not expected this.

I had the privilege or the sorrow (it’s difficult to decide which one) to be given a tour of the ward where pre and post pregnancy women stayed. I even went into the surgical unit where the mothers give birth. As I entered I noticed all the doctors chatting on one side, while a woman who had just given birth, was sitting in pain on the opposite side. To my surprise I was allowed in without any sort of sanitization process. Next we went to a specific ward in search for a woman the outreach worker had been working with. This woman just gave birth to twins two days ago, and both children died within a day. The patient and husband were both HIV positive; however their families had no clue. There is no way to know if the children expired due to their mother being HIV positive or not. The ward she was staying in was appalling. Fifteen women smashed into an incredibly small room; some of the women’s cots were tattered up and placed on the floor. While I was attempting to talk to the woman (language gap) I was horrified when I saw at least 10 bugs crawling around the walls. No other unit was this unsanitary and disorganized, why this ward? Later I listed as the husband of the woman cried to the outreach worker for an hour and a half. He complained how the doctors hardly even touched his wife during birth and treated her horribly because she is HIV positive. The stigma obviously continues in Hyderabad. The outreach worker explained to me how she literally has to kiss ass to the doctors for them to even take the patients, however convincing the doctors to treat the HIV positive women like human beings is a novelty that isn’t available at the moment.

I met another girl of 22, who during her second pregnancy found out she was HIV positive. Her husband gave her HIV…then after finding out she was positive, left her at her parent’s house and then left her life. The outreach worker kept on instructing me to hold her hand as we continued down the hospital halls. I confused as to why until she explained to me that the parents and in-laws are not accepting this young girl anymore, and hardly speak to her. It seems the only reason they accompanied her to the hospital is over concern for the unborn child. She asked me to hold this girl’s hand to demonstrate to the family that I did not fear or reject her because of her status.

Finally we continued on to do work within the community. We arrived at an incredibly small house (after an expanded tour of the city by bus) where an expectant HIV positive mother lives. She is going to give birth any day now and is denying the fact that she and her husband are HIV positive. Her being aware and accepting of her status is important for the unborn child, because there are forms of prevention for the baby to contract HIV. The husband and wife were unbending in their belief that they are not positive because they are normally healthy. The outreach worker persisted for an hour and a half, even after being screamed at by the girl’s mother. The mother even accused the outreach worker of having the ulterior motive of interested in the husband. Basically there was no way around it and we were forced to leave, unsuccessfully.

Overall a sad, overwhelming, but motivating day. Plenty of work has been done in this field, however there is so much more to be done.

Kids Kids Kids!!

Today I was reminded of the long forgotten feeling of childhood. I had the grand opportunity of spending majority of my Sunday with children. First, we volunteered at an orphanage during their play time. Second, the “house boy” Mark, at the guest house I am staying at, invited me to play games with the children out on the street.
As I approached the children their eyes became bright and excited. All of them running around calling me “didi” (sister), dragging me to come play with them. I have never seen children so inclusive before, constantly reminding each other in Hindi to include me in the game (even though I had no clue how to play).
Just a bit of the culture I was looking for while I was in India. All the kids called me “didi” and Mark “Mark Bhaiya” (Mark brother). One of the girls, just a few years younger than me had just recently gotten engaged and now everyone called her Bhabhi (Sister in-law). They are just names, or titles as some will call it, but referring to me as “didi” automatically included me into their little family of games and ignored the fact that I was a perfect stranger. To go off on a bit of a tangent here I am reading a book about the India-Pakistan Partition by one of the women who came to speak to us at orientation. Her name is Urvashi Butalia and her book is named “The Other Side of Silence: Voices from the Partition”. In this book there is a paragraph that makes me think of this same thing. An uncle and niece are united for the first time ever in their lives as the niece was born the partition. This is their first conversation over the phone when the uncle finds out the niece has made the dangerous trip to Pakistan to meet him. The niece’s friend answers the phone first:
“‘I believe my daughter is staying with you. Please call my daughter; I would like to speak to her.’ (The niece gets on the phone) ‘Beti, what are you doing there? This is your home. You must come home at once and you must stay here. Give me your address and I’ll come and pick you up’. No preamble, no greeting, just a direct, no nonsense picking up of family ties. I was both touched and taken aback.”
My friend and I were having a discussion about what India culture really is; I believe this is some of it. I cherish this.
I digress.
As I was saying, these kids were just overwhelming me with childhood memories. They were playing in the middle of the street without any care in the world. Kids were running around me fearlessly climbing up high walls and jumping in piles of construction sand and bricks. They competitively played barefoot, to improve their game, without the slightest concern of falling on their faces or getting cut from the bricks. Hand clapping games and singing songs kept them consumed for hours. I had forgotten that part of childhood, and enjoyed being able to watch and even feel like a kid again.