It's been more than a month since I last wrote. Since then, I said tata batata (for now) to Bagar, saw the Golden Temple (gorgeous!), got my ass kicked in a one-week Bharatanatyam workshop taught by the great dancer C.V. Chandrashekar, cheered on Baltimore-native Michael Phelps, fell in love with Chicago (in the summer), caught up with cousins at a family wedding and got re-energized and ready for November's elections thanks to the DNC. Currently I'm grappling with living at home and being unemployed. Not one of my best phases, but it shall pass.

Speaking of the DNC, my thoughts on what's going on in American politics: I decided a while ago that I would vote for Barack Obama anyway just because he is pro-choice. After hearing the viciousness that is Sarah Palin, I'm just more determined. And yesterday I heard that John McCain is equal or ahead of Obama in most polls?? I am just having so much trouble wrapping my head around why anyone who was pro-Hillary would vote for McCain. I mean, I understand that they hope Hillary will win in 2012 but at what expense?? Anyway, I will definitely be watching Palin's interview on ABC tomorrow & Friday. I know he'll ask her some tough questions and I'm anxious to hear what she has to say.

Now about Joe Biden. I like him a lot and I think he adds a lot to the ticket and offers a more realist balance to what I think is a lot of rhetoric for change. He has shown that he's not afraid to get his hands dirty, and I respect him immensely for that. His aggressiveness turns people off, thus the public doesn't really get to know him. I think that people will now have to pay attention.

My final thoughts: Even if a lot of empty talk and false promises are being thrown around, I think it's so inspiring and exciting how engaged people are - there are grassroots movements, people tuning in to hear speeches, a flurry of blog entries - people are paying attention and they're getting others to pay attention. The obvious test will come starting next January, when the new president delivers (or does not) and the public responds (or does not). But in the meantime, yay democracy!

The People of Bagar

In the past two days, two friends have sent me things to help me cope with post-Bagar life. I'm so ready to leave, but I'm not. My one solace is that I will constantly be in touch with our GDL family here.

I've never felt such a closeness for a place - not even Boston - as I do for Bagar. Boston, Chadds Ford, and Baltimore have special meaning for me because of my personal history with those places as well as the fact that the people I love live there.

I love Bagar because it's mine. I've played a part and have contributed to the culture of Bagar.

I still remember the day we arrived and the bus dropped us off in front of Piramal Nagar. To my naive eye, Bagar seemed like the middle of the desert. Now I know. I know how green Bagar is. How a small town with six cell phone towers and 35 educational institutions can have the feel of a village. I know all about the local of culture of feeding guests until they burst and the elegant way men touch their hearts to greet someone.

In anticipation of her leaving Bagar, a colleague of mine sent me a beautiful email. And now, in my emotional, confused state I turn to her to clearly express how I feel: I'm going to miss Saurav and Saurabh and how they would insist on coming at 5:30 am to run (and not always make it), Anita and Savita Saini's laughs, their mom's threats to beat me with a shoe after I had not visited for a long time, Chandi's gentleness, Bunty's dancing, my summer camp kids and their ability to make me cry and laugh within a span of 10 minutes, Muktha's ability to always look good, Mumta's and Neelam's sass, Deepa's smile and Praveen's sky high heels, Ravi's "hello ma'am," Suresh's mocking of my chai, Jithendra's confused looks, Upendra's shyness, Naresh's confidence, the way Amit & Chinu would always come to shake my hand and Priyanka would run into me after school and take my hand so we could walk home together, Monica's "didi! didi!" in the most high-pitched voice imagineable, Vinayak Restaurant's sandwiches and Riddhi Siddhi's lassis, Swamiji's dancing, L C Sharmaji's warmth, the way Pankaj was always around, my fights with Karthik, eating Dhadhichji's pedas (which were especially good when I remembered that he was up all night for Ram Leela practices), Shakuntalaji's devotion to her cows, Praveen's dedication to "physical fit," Shiv Bhagwanji's booming voice, the irritating subzi wallah who I continued to go back to, Lilesh reading the newspaper and informing me that people drive too quickly these days, Sonu's exclamation of glee after I say Ram Ram!

There are people I am forgetting but, let's face it, this list is endless.

I have 10 more days in Bagar. I think I'll tell all these people how much I love them and make sure they know I'm thankful for having met them. Lots to do!

Hindsight is 20/20

I apologize for the cliche post title.

I'm not sure how useful it is to wish to be like someone else, but I can't contain my admiration for people who demonstrate such passion about something - whether it's something as universally passion-inciting as the treatment of women in Rajasthan; or something that seems so trivial, such as an injustice committed by a book reviewer - the kind that makes you write lines and lines detailing why the critic was so wrong!

This ability to feel so strongly about something has to stem from a strong set of values - something I know I'm very ambiguous about. Which makes me feel like I've - to a certain extent - wasted the two years in India...This was partly why I came. To clear those doubts.

A few people have asked me if Bagar was worth it. I have definitely grown in many ways and learned many things. Every day for one month I was telling my students, "pura faida utaana," (loosely translates to, "take advantage of the opportunity."). I should have followed my own advice.

Privilege: Curse or a Boon?

One striking difference between my experience and the experience of young people in Bagar (I'm not informed enough to generalize about all of India) is that I grew up thinking that I should choose a profession that I'm passionate about. My high school guidance counselor had us take career assessment tests so that we would be aware of our skills and strengths and would be able to choose a career accordingly. I don't remember what my assessment results were.

The kids I work with are coming from a very different place. For one thing, their idea of career options is extremely limited. Second, they tend to gravitate towards options in which other people in their community (their role models) have found success. Therefore, if one person becomes a chartered accountant (CA), the other young people in the neighborhood will strive for the same.

One colleague posed the question, "is choosing your profession based on what you are passionate about a privilege?" As much as we cringed, the majority of the people involved in the conversation - myself included - immediately agreed.

Money isn't the only thing that affords this privilege, however. One thing I've learned is that, aside from money, the most significant difference between me and the Amit Katewas or Umesh Tailors of the world is the fact that I have a strong support network that is going to question any decision I consider and support any decision I make.

But even with this privilege, will I find what I'm passionate about? Or will I jump from job to job, becoming a spokesperson for modern time's confused generation? I don't know. Are unrealistic or unreachable expectations side effects of "privilege"?

I came across the following article from the NY Times, that explores how students from top American schools pick their first jobs. It attempts to challenge the notion that privilege permits the soul-searching required to land that "perfect" job. But, in reality, financial restrictions that students from rural India face are on a completely different plane than the social restrictions that the "privileged" need to consider.

As usual, lots of rambling and no conclusion. Good night.

Images of Summer Camp

I have been meaning to post some photos from summer camp. The following images are from a session that Zainab (an intern with Source for Change) led. The kids had to stage short skits using a dupatta, a broom, a tray, a few balls, a stool, and a newspaper.

The planning stage

Sanjit practicing for when he joins the army. Note that his gun resembles a broom.


Naveen is crying for his food. By the looks of it, everyone else was having fun!

Another test, but [most] campers pass with flying colors

As I walked back from the B. Ed. Hostel, I noticed three boys sitting at the top of the stadium steps. They were obviously trying to appear conspicuous, so I went to see what was up. That's when I heard the unmistakable sound of a glass bottle. The boys had decided it made sense to drink. In the middle of a Rajasthani summer day. In the open. At a high traffic time.

We have told the campers numerous times that any bad behavior is not only a reflection of them, but a reflection of the summer camp and GDL. And today, the actions of one camper and his friends proved my point. We brought the issues to the attention of our "local guardian," who was able to use this and other incidents as proof that we are creating more trouble than good.

But my resolve has not been shaken. I have seen changes in our students. I don't know what they do at home, but I DO know that today they were engaged in a debate about whether hockey or cricket should be the national sport. And the entire debate was in English! I DO know that a student recognized that someone had information about becoming a chartered accountant and, after class, approached that person for help!

No one can tell me that nothing has changed.

One rotton apple...

...highlights how good the other apples are!

A student put tobacco in a bottle of water today. Yea, I didn't get it either. I have my suspicions of who did it, but haven't made any accusations yet. I have told the class that until the prankster reveals himself (I'm assuming it wasn't Nidhi), everyone in the class loses out on computer time.

I mean, boys will be boys, right? Doesn't mean I have to take it. I'm pretty proud of how I handled it - no yelling or screaming.

But I still don't know how to process it? I mean, one of my biggest complaints has been that the kids aren't creative? I'd never heard of polluting the classroom's water before!

But the situation isn't all bad. In the past few days, there have been many indications that all the students, save one or two (my suspects), have come a long way since the beginning of the camp. Today, Ragvindra asked me for permission to leave camp early because he had to go to Jhunjhunu to pick something up for the house. I asked him if it was absolutely necessary that he went, but in the end said he could go. Naturally, I was surprised when I walked into class and he was sitting in his usual seat in the front row! I feel so badly for him. The whole tobacco in water incident made part of the English class useless.

And in another case, when a few of the local boys were bothering one of my interns, the Baktavpura Boys came to her rescue. Such chivalrous gentlemen! Or at least they're getting there.