Post-India Reflections

A year ago today, I arrived in India, exhausted and relieved to have finally made it, especially after missing my first flight.  Two and a half months ago I returned to the United States and while settling into my American life,  I've reflected a lot on my nine months of living and teaching in a foreign land and thought what better way to wrap up this blog than by sharing those reflections here.

THINGS I LEARNED:

Always try.  Whenever asked to perform or give a speech in America, I could expect to be notified at least a month in advance, usually more.  In India, I was lucky to get a week's notice.  For someone who has suffered from stage fright nearly all her life, this was a big hurdle to get over.  My initial reaction to requests for me to dance or give a speech or (even worse) sing was to immediately see the situation as impossible in the amount of time given.  How could I possibly whip something together in less than a week?!?!  However, I couldn't just turn down their requests and as a guest at the school, wanted to give back as much as possible.  So, I gave a hesitant yes, still thought it was an impossible situation, and...succeeded...every time.  After my speech during Indian Independence Day, students were eager to learn more about American Independence Day; after my attempt at giving a speech in Hindi, teachers told me how inspiring it was to hear me try to speak their native language, mistakes and all; after my bhangra dance for Children's Day, I ignored the pain emanating from the popped blisters on my feet and performed it a second time at their request. Through these experiences, I learned to push back my self-defeating thoughts, fears of failure, and need for perfection and to refocus that energy into just getting the job done.  

Flexibility.  No matter how many hours I put into lesson or trip planning, I was always greeted with something unexpected.  In my pre-India life, I spent so much energy trying to imagine all the possible outcomes of a situation so I would never be caught unaware.  India taught me to let go a little, to plan sufficiently but to also take advantage of and enjoy those little surprises that can never be planned.  I gained confidence that even if something doesn't go according to plan, things will work out and even I, a recovering over-planner extraoidinaire, can improvise a solution.

Patience.  When I first arrived in India, it was very easy to get frustrated when things didn't happen as I wanted or as quickly as I would have liked, a frustration that was admittedly due mainly to my unfamiliarity with how things worked in India.  I was trying to fit this square-peg-new-life into the round-hole-old-life I left.  While I always thought I was patient, I soon saw that the 24/7 instant access culture of America affected me more than I thought.  I learned to accept and expect that things were just going to take longer and in those moments when I began to feel frustration creeping up on me (for example, when visiting the copy center for the third time, the previous two times failing due to a power outage and an unexpected 2-hour closing) I breathed through the frustration rather than wasting energy being upset.  Afterall, there's no use getting worked up about something you can't change.

Focus. When reading about India in preparation for my trip, the one phrase used to describe it more than any other was "sensory overload" and after arriving, I could see why.  In the main areas of the city, my ears were bombarded with vendors trying to lure me to their stalls; the seemingly non-stop honking of cars, busses, and autorickshaws; and the frequent calling out of stops by bus conductors and auto drivers.  My eyes were constantly on the lookout for unmarked construction sights, uneven pavement, and the best frogger-like path to take across the street.  I could encounter a smell as sweet as fresh mangos in one step and in the next, be taken off guard by the unmistakable odor of urine. For this ultra-introvert, just a 15 minute walk could sap me of all my energy, especially when adding to the heat and humidity to all the things mentioned above.  Until, that is, I adapted.  I learned to tune out all but the most important sensory inputs and with time, began noticing previously invisible details of my surroundings.  Walking around the city became a practice in meditation and by the end of my nine months, I found not only that I was no longer weighed down by the activity around me, I was energized by it.

THINGS I'LL MISS:

• All the warm, supportive, and hilarious teachers at my school.  I didn't always understand their Bangla/Hindi gabbing but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
• Goats wearing scarves and shirts to stay warm in the chilly winter air.
• My pholwalla (fruit seller), sobjiwalla (vegetable seller), and my go-to computer print-out guy who were always so happy to see me, so patient with my Bangla, and so willing to help.
• When my attempts at speaking the local language was greated with fits of good-natured giggles...by large, hairy, grown men.
• STREET FOOD!  Especially kathi rolls, puchka, and padpi puri.
• Listening to the students recite the morning prayer, pledge, and sing the national anthem.
• When strangers would come up to me to ask where I was from and after receiving their answer, say thank you and promptly walk away.
• Being able to walk 2 minutes down the street to do all my produce and egg shopping or to get my street food fix.
• Party autos, the auto rickshaws that are adorned in blinking lights, mirrors and blast anything from techno music to old time Bollywood hits.
• Our neighborhood street dogs who would chase cars that drove off with us and who would sometimes escort me down the street on my way to school.
• The kindness of the people, always eager to help a vistor find her way.
• The random and hilarious comments made by my students.  "You are looking damn gorgeous today, Mam" was one of my favorites not because of the compliment but because of the choice of words by a sixth grader.
• Cha! Not to be confused with ah-cha-cha. (Translation: Tea! Not to be confused with the word that means "good" and that our landlord would endlessly repeat when he couldn't understand what we were saying and didn't want to admit it.)
• The phrase, "You do one thing..." that was usually followed by a string of seemingly endless instructions.
• Going into a sari shop and having the clothes literally thrown at me.  At first I felt bad because of all the folding that would be required afterwards but later, really appreciated being able to see the variety of materials so quickly. Plus, it created work for someone which is needed in a city of around 4.5 million, or 14 million if you include suburbs.
• Those moments in Bangla class when all our brains would cease functioning at the same time which would (usually) result in fits of laughter and an utterly confused look on Proshenjit-da's face.  
• The days when our caretaker, Robin, would burst into the apartment and rather than spend 15 minutes trying to explain why he was there through our broken Bangla and his broken English, would just start doing quizzical things.  Case in point: when he, without a word, went through Sarah's room, out onto the balcony, climbed over to our neighbor's balcony, and started transferring their plants to our side. Apparently, they were on vacation and he needed to water their plants but didn't have a key to their place.
• And finally...the fellow ETAs who became my family abroad - Irene, Julie, Sarah, and Zoe - and our papa bear, Sumanta.  It wouldn't have been the same, or nearly as entertaining, without them!  

A (Bitter) Sweet Send-Off

On February 29th, I got up earlier than usual to give myself extra time to wrap the new sari I bought especially for my last day of school. As I was wrapping and then rewrapping and then rewrapping again the 9 yards of silk, I found myself somewhat dreading the day that lay before me. Goodbyes are never easy and when you have taught 480 students over the course of seven months, students who had fought for your attention every one of those days, it's goodbyes to the extreme. Adding to that goodbyes to the teachers with whom I had become very close and who supported me every step of the way, well, let's just say my emotional cup overfloweth. Once I arrived, I was taken aback and very humbled by the reception I received as after morning assembly, my students gave me a send-off I'll never forget: three dances performed beautifully by girls in classes 7 and 8; a heartfelt poem and reading; a skit titled A Day in the Life of Pamela Mam that concluded with all of class 8 singing Christmas is Coming, a song I taught them in December; and a rendition of Leaving on a Jetplane that brought tears to my eyes. Afterwards, I couldn't walk the halls without being swarmed by students with cards, gifts, kind words, and songs. Even a group of girls from class 9, a class I never taught, gave me a card to wish me well. It was a hurricane of activity and then, at 11:15, the bell rang, the students lined up, and left the school for home. Then. Silence. I went back to the staff room where I was able to gather my thoughts a little before the next wave of send-offs began. You see, in addition to the students, the teachers had been working on performances of their own. Simply spending time with these teachers and friends, to see them laughing, to have them attempt to teach me some dance moves, was more special to me than the actual, programmed send-off. Their support and friendship meant so much to me over the seven months I taught at the school so to see them devoting so much time to me, yet again, was truly humbling.

Happy Holidays!

As the American holiday season comes to a close, I thought what better time to reflect on all holidays, both American and Indian, I've experienced in India so far. I’ll post links to more photographs shortly but it will take a while to upload them all due to 1) my slow internet connection and 2) my excessive picture taking :-)

DURGA PUJA
Quick Facts: A six-day Hindu festival that was celebrated October 1-6, 2011 (the dates are based on the Hindu calendar so they vary each year).  It is a time to celebrate the goddess Durga returning home with her children and to celebrate good (Durga) conquering evil (the demon Mahishasur).

Important Terms:

Sarah, Me, and Julie performing puja

• Vahana: the vehicle or mount or a deity, usually in the form of an animal or mythical being
• Pandal: a temporary temple that houses Maa Durga and her children and where the pujas are held
• Puja: worship
• Maa Durga, or Mother Durga, is the mother of the universe who is a protector, destructor, and creator. She has three yes and is depicted with 8 or 10 arms which hold the following objects: a conch shell, bow and arrow, lightning bolt, half-opened lotus, discus, sword, and trident. Her vahana is a lion which represents power, will, and determination.

A contemporary Maa Durga idol

Ganesh, the elephant-diety and one of Maa Durga’s children, is the god of success and helps his devotees overcome obstacles. Some also worship him as the god of education, knowledge, wisdom and wealth. Ganesh’s vahana is a mouse which symbolizes humility.

Laxshmi, one of Maa Durga’s children, is the goddess of wealth and prosperity. She has four arms and is depicted holding or atop a lotus which symbolizes purity, fertility, and beauty. In Bengal, her vahana is the owl, warning her devotees against the dangers of being blinded by the wealth she provides.

Saraswati, one of Durga’s children, is the goddess of wisdom, art, music, and learning. She has four arms in which she holds a book, a crystal rosary, a pot of holy water, and a stringed instrument called a veena. Her vahana is a swan which represents using one’s knowledge for the good of the world rather than personal gain.

Kartik, or Kartikeya, is one of Durga’s children and a war god created to destroy the demons. He has six heads and carries a spear in one hand while blessing devotees with the other. His vahana is a peacock gripping a serpant which represents overcoming one’s ego.

Durga Puja, the biggest and most important festival in West Bengal, was something I had been hearing about since arriving in Kolkata but until I experienced it, could not fully understand what makes it so magical. All I knew was that people would wear their finest dresses, do something called "pandal hopping," and that the already crowded streets of Kolkata would be bursting at the seams as visitors flocked to the city to experience the festival for themselves. As Durga Puja, or Pujo, grew near, even someone as naïve as me could feel the excitement in the air as mysterious structures and light displays started appearing all over the city.

Me and the record-breaking idol

My initiation to Pujo began at 4am on Tuesday, September 27 when I was startled awake to something that sounded like canon-fire. I assumed some construction workers were getting an early start to the day and cursed them for disturbing my slumber. It wasn’t until speaking with a teacher later that day that I learned the 4am “bombs” mark Mahalaya, the countdown to Maa Durga’s arrival. Well, if it’s for Maa Durga, I suppose it’s alright. Although my introduction to the festival didn’t start off on exactly the right foot, everything went uphill from there. While on a tour that wasarranged by a Fulbright alum from Kolkata and exploring later on my own, I was constantly awed by the pandals I saw. One recreated a Buddhist temple, another, a Kashmiri landscape, and another, a peacock that rivaled the size of the buildings around it. There was even one in my neighborhood that boasted the biggest Durga idol ever at 52 feet high. The pandals looked like stone or wood structures from a distance but close up, you could see that most were constructed of bamboo poles wrapped in cloth and expertly painted. Styrofoam embellishments were often used and on the inside, each pandal included a chandelier as big as physics and finances would allow.More elaborate pandals used fiber glass, high-quality wood, cement, and recycled glass to create the final masterpiece. The pandals and the idols inside them were truly works of art. It wasn’t until evening, or technically, early morning, that I felt the true magic of Pujo.

A traditional idol with a glittering chandelier

When the sun went down, the city was enveloped by twinkling lights; lights forming canopies over the streets, lights cascading from buildings, and lights on animated displays that formed arches to the pandals. Even at 2am, the streets were full of people and I found that I was no longer an individual but instead, part of a pandal-hopping blob. Rather than fight the crowd, I let myself be gently led from one pandal to another and was never disappointed by where the blob took me. The energy was palpable and even this girl who likes her sleep more than her chocolate (you heard me!) wished she could stay out all night. After a full 13 hours of pandal hopping, I felt like I finally understood the festival that was once such an enigma to me and during the immersion of the idols in the Hoogley River two days later, couldn’t help but feel a little sad to see Maa Durga go, even knowing aashchhe bochhor abar hobe, it will happen again next year.

The Fulbright Tour

DIWALI or DEEPAUVALI
Quick Facts: A five-day Hindu festival, literally meaning "string of lights," that was celebrated October 24-28, 2011 (the dates are based on the Hindu calendar so they vary each year).  It is a time to celebrate good (Lord Krishna and Sathyabhama) conquering evil (the demon Naraka); to worship Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and prosperity; to celebrate Bhai Dooj, a time when sisters invite their brothers to their home; and to worship the goddess Kali (this is actually a part of Kali Puja which is prevalent in West Bengal and coincides with Diwali/Lakshmi Puja).

If I could some up Diwali in one word that word would be loud, for although Diwali is the Festival of Lights, it also is a time to ward off evil and what better way to do so than to set off as many firecrackers as possible! Even my students got into the act. Starting a week before the festival, the occasional bomb would go off during school. When I first heard the blast, as with Durga Puja, I again attributed it to construction but my students set me straight and said, “Bomb, Mam, bomb!” I soon learned that the word bomb does not carry quite the same concern here as it is in the US and basically means a really loud, booming firecracker.

Titli, Me, and Sarah celebrating Diwali

 The bombs became more frequent as the week drew on until Diwali finally arrived. That’s when the real noise began. Families from all over the neighborhood would set off fireworks and firecrackers in the middle of the street, and not just sparklers and bottle caps, but actual fireworks. At first, Sarah and I were excited at all the activity but once the fireworks started exploding right outside our 5th floor apartment window and smoke started pouring into our rooms, we shut the windows and ran for cover. While we didn’t partake in the setting off of explosives that day, we did light diyas or deepas, small lamps used to welcome the goddess Lakshmi into one’s home, who brings with her prosperity for the coming year. Because everyone wants Lakshmi to visit, the more lights and candles one uses, the more likely Lakshmi will notice one’s house, creating a friendly competition which explains why Diwali is known as the Festival of Lights. A couple
of days later, we went to our friend Titli’s house for her family’s celebration of Bhai Dooj.
 On this day, sisters welcome their brothers into their homes for an exchange of blessings, gifts, and sweets. In Titli’s family, this was extended to her cousins and a close family friend as well. After the blessings were given, the gifts exchanged, and the sweets were eaten, we went to the rooftop to light some sparklers while the last of the dinner preparations were being made. While I thoroughly enjoyed the community atmosphere of Durga Puja, the more intimate family celebrations of Diwali were memorable for a different reason: they reminded me of home.

HALLOWEEN

Halloween is not celebrated in India; however, it is not unknown either. While the history of the holiday may be a mystery, through the globalizing mediums of television and movies, most of my students had heard of

No words needed!

trick-or-treating and wearing costumes and all were familiar with Halloween figures such as vampires and ghosts. In fact, in my experience their enthusiasm for all-things-scary exceeds that of the average American kid. Halloween being the first American holiday we would miss since arriving in India (not counting Independence Day which, due to the magic of time zones, vanished while I was somewhere over the Atlantic), the other ETAs and I couldn’t let it go by uncelebrated. In fact, being outside of America made the
need to acknowledge it seem all the more important. So, between decorations sent to us by our families and homemade ones we pieced together with materials here, we threw a good ol’ fashioned Halloween party; Julie, whose knack for decorating could give Martha Stewart a run for her money, made popcorn balls, transformed Diwali lights into Halloween lights by the addition of tissue paper ghosts, and expertly crafted a string of newspaper bats; we plastered orange construction pumpkins everywhere and, much to the confusion of the vegetable sellers, found the roundest, largest, orangest pumpkins to carve into Jack O’ Lanterns; finally, because it’s obligatory and just plain fun, we fashioned costumes out of whatever materials we could find – Julie was a zookeeper, Sarah was a coconut tree, Irene was Snookie from Jersey Shore, Zoe was Medusa, and I was a deviled egg. Once the decorations were done, we snacked on candy corn, roasted pumpkin seeds, popcorn balls, and Dominos pizza while watching the Halloweeniest movie that was on TV that night, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. That little touch of American culture at the 3-month mark did our souls good!

THANKSGIVING

Unlike Halloween, none of my students had a clue about what Thanksgiving is or how it is celebrated so I did a simple listening exercise with them to introduce them this American holiday and followed it with one of

Federica, Angela, and Julie Thanksgiving-it up!

 the most important Thanksgiving activities, making hand turkeys and writing one thing for which you are thankful. Julie, Sarah and I decided to host Thanksgiving for all the Fulbrighters in the area along with a couple of other Americans (and one visiting Italian friend) working or researching in Kolkata. While we didn’t have a turkey, we did manage a roasted chicken thanks to a friend who has an oven in her apartment (a rarity around here), several different green bean casseroles, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, stuffing, stuffed pumpkins, homemade bread, and for desert, key lime pie. With around 15 people over, it reminded me of Thanksgivings back home and Angela’s surprise activity of…wait for it…HAND TURKEYS made the day all the more fun. There’s nothing like channeling your inner child to put you into a festive mood!

CHRISTMAS

It was my first Christmas away from home this year so I was thrilled when my friend Alexis decided to visit me over the holidays, especially because all of my Kolkata friends were going to be away on vacation. On Christmas Eve, we did what many people in the city do: we visited St. Paul’s Cathedral for the Christmas 

Waiting in line at St. Paul's

Eve service which is attended by hundreds of people from various religions. Santa hats kept the heads of many a Kolkatan warm as we stood in line to enter the cathedral. The crowds are so large for this service that only a small percentage of people can actually sit in the church. The rest of the people, the two of us included, enter in small batches, stand at the back for a short time, and then exit so another group can catch their glimpse of the candlelight service. The most memorable part of the night happened when I was waiting outside for Alexis to exit. All of the sudden, the crowd started cheering as if

Santa hats!

 it were New Year’s Eve. Then I realized the reason why: the clock had struck midnight and it was officially Christmas. It was such a joyous way to celebrate! What impressed me most about Christmas in India is that people seemed to wish others a Merry Christmas regardless of their religion. While I don’t consider myself Christian and celebrate Christmas as a season of giving and goodwill, not as the birth of Jesus, in the US, I’m highly aware of to whom I am wishing a Merry Christmas. I know if I were in the shoes of someone who doesn’t celebrate the holiday, I might be more than a
bit annoyed with the month-long bombardment of all things Christmas. Here, however, things are much
different; when I left school on the 22nd, I was greeted again and again with "Merry Christmas" by Hindu,

Stars decorating a church in Fort Kochi, Kerala

Christian, Muslim, and Buddhist students; a Sikh man I met on a bus in Kerala and my Hindu friend Raghu both make it a point to attend church on Christmas; and in Kerala (where Alexis and I where December 26th-31st), mangers, trees, and elaborate paper stars decorate houses of Christians and non-Christians alike. Perhaps this is due to Christians being in the minority since religious tension definitely does exist in India, but at least this one time, for this one holiday, it was nice to experience not just religious tolerance, but religious inclusiveness.