Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2193919&id=1612805&l=79fd63e5fb
So I have taken off to Varanasi India in order to work with Fairmail http://www.fairmail.info/ -an organization that teachers teenagers to work with underprivileged youth. So far it has been interesting. You know after all of the warning about India, I was still quite shocked upon arriving in Varanasi. The city is alive. People bleed from every corner. If there is a crevice or crack, someone or something (cow, goat, dog ect.) has made a home out of it. Even through the poverty the city is beautiful in its own sort of way.
I am staying in a small room on the 2nd floor of a 'guest house'. I am not sure if anyone has read Killing Vishnu, however I feel like I am a tenant in the 'house of Vishnu'. In other words home is part of a much bigger thriving living community found within a small building. There are many Indian families who have made homes in the various rooms of this four story building. At any given time babies can be heard crying, women sweeping, the 2 kilo locks being opened or shut, and of course men clearing their throat by letting a big wad of spit fly from their lips. I feel like I am part of a living organism rather than a guest house. On the ground floor to exit the building one has to avoid stepping in the steaming cow poop left by the guest house's own personal cow-who also can usually be found lounging around by the gate. The most disturbing thing about the living situation is that we are expected just to throw the trash in the garbage 'lot' next door, where the random nomadic pigs play their role as the Indian version of garbage men.
Every morning I role out of my bed from under my mosquito net and use the shower head to rinse my sweaty body with cold water. There is no 'shower' (or toilet for that matter), but instead a silver shower head that dribbles cold to 'luke warm' water depending on the time of the day (sometimes the heat will heat up the water tank). These first few days I have mainly been exploring rather than working with the teenagers yet. As I started to say the city is chaotic. The streets are apparently paved but you wouldnt know it because it is covered by a layer of white dust, cow poop and random colorful powders. Loud horns and the rush of rickshaws, tuk tuk's, and the calls of merchants create the soundtrack of daily life. The air is thick with the smell of spices, sweat, excretion (of all types) and animals. Walking down down the street you feel like you have to wade through this scent. It sticks to you. It creates a sticky wet feeling which is amplified by the oppressive heat. Sure for descriptive/entertainment purposes I am exaggerating a bit, but only a little.
A friend once told me that in Delhi there were virtually no women. However here, every walk of life seems to be scattered in the streets. You have Muslim women all in black with only a small slit for their eyes, to the colorful saris of the hindu women, men in turbans, holy men draped in orange fabric, and little boys running around naked. The people really are beautiful. They are beautiful in their colours, their facial structure, and their smiles.
Through all of this sensory experience there has been an important lingering question in my mind--why do we travel? What is the purpose of this experience? I have seen many 'westerners' clothed in traditional indian garb. I understand that this is considered polite, but I can still not shake the feeling that it is somewhat fake. Why do I have this feeling, I mean after all what is wrong with adopting this new culture, or way of dress? It is fun to wear new things and play 'dress up'. However I thought the point of traveling (at least one of many reasons) was to 'find yourself'. To experience difference so you realize the 'normal' is relative and what you take for granted is actually quite unusual for others. However others seem to travel for escape. Today I feel like dressing in traditional garb, adopting new religions, and ways of life is a form of escape. However why do we have this need for 'escape'? What is so unhappy about western life? I was thinking the other day that so many people seem to 'convert' to eastern religion, but it is rare (at least to my knowledge) for someone to 'convert' (willingly) to western religion. Is spirituality something that is indicative to humanity and while some find it in science, medicine, or other parts of western life, I guess it doesn't quite do the trick for some people.
However I am still trying to grapple with this question--why do we travel? I can think of many reasons but they for some reason still seem a bit unsatisfactory. For instance in the beginning of this post I mentioned the sensory experience of new foods, smells, and sounds. Others try and find themselves through difference, and others to escape. For me I like to meet people. I like to meet the locals but also other travelers. I guess i like to meet other travelers because I really am puzzled by this question--why do we travel and what is the purpose of travel? I am even not sure why I am in love with galavanting around the world. I like meeting other travellers because I guess I believe that maybe i'll someday come across someone who can enlighten me and answer my query--or complicate my question and add to the array of answers I have already obtained.
However most of all I love collecting stories. I love finding out about all of the many ways one can be human. That is what interests me most. I guess at the moment I am trying to figure out how I can make a career out of collecting stories. I have began by studying anthropology, but I am very interested in artistic expression. For me it seems the medium through which people seem to express what it means to be human is through art. However I also love narratives. I am very interested in narratives and what to explore the narrations and the various ways people make narratives. I guess my blog is my own narrative. So this is my own story. And I will continue to collect the stories of others in order to understand my own.
So I have taken off to Varanasi India in order to work with Fairmail http://www.fairmail.info/ -an organization that teachers teenagers to work with underprivileged youth. So far it has been interesting. You know after all of the warning about India, I was still quite shocked upon arriving in Varanasi. The city is alive. People bleed from every corner. If there is a crevice or crack, someone or something (cow, goat, dog ect.) has made a home out of it. Even through the poverty the city is beautiful in its own sort of way.
I am staying in a small room on the 2nd floor of a 'guest house'. I am not sure if anyone has read Killing Vishnu, however I feel like I am a tenant in the 'house of Vishnu'. In other words home is part of a much bigger thriving living community found within a small building. There are many Indian families who have made homes in the various rooms of this four story building. At any given time babies can be heard crying, women sweeping, the 2 kilo locks being opened or shut, and of course men clearing their throat by letting a big wad of spit fly from their lips. I feel like I am part of a living organism rather than a guest house. On the ground floor to exit the building one has to avoid stepping in the steaming cow poop left by the guest house's own personal cow-who also can usually be found lounging around by the gate. The most disturbing thing about the living situation is that we are expected just to throw the trash in the garbage 'lot' next door, where the random nomadic pigs play their role as the Indian version of garbage men.
Every morning I role out of my bed from under my mosquito net and use the shower head to rinse my sweaty body with cold water. There is no 'shower' (or toilet for that matter), but instead a silver shower head that dribbles cold to 'luke warm' water depending on the time of the day (sometimes the heat will heat up the water tank). These first few days I have mainly been exploring rather than working with the teenagers yet. As I started to say the city is chaotic. The streets are apparently paved but you wouldnt know it because it is covered by a layer of white dust, cow poop and random colorful powders. Loud horns and the rush of rickshaws, tuk tuk's, and the calls of merchants create the soundtrack of daily life. The air is thick with the smell of spices, sweat, excretion (of all types) and animals. Walking down down the street you feel like you have to wade through this scent. It sticks to you. It creates a sticky wet feeling which is amplified by the oppressive heat. Sure for descriptive/entertainment purposes I am exaggerating a bit, but only a little.
A friend once told me that in Delhi there were virtually no women. However here, every walk of life seems to be scattered in the streets. You have Muslim women all in black with only a small slit for their eyes, to the colorful saris of the hindu women, men in turbans, holy men draped in orange fabric, and little boys running around naked. The people really are beautiful. They are beautiful in their colours, their facial structure, and their smiles.
Through all of this sensory experience there has been an important lingering question in my mind--why do we travel? What is the purpose of this experience? I have seen many 'westerners' clothed in traditional indian garb. I understand that this is considered polite, but I can still not shake the feeling that it is somewhat fake. Why do I have this feeling, I mean after all what is wrong with adopting this new culture, or way of dress? It is fun to wear new things and play 'dress up'. However I thought the point of traveling (at least one of many reasons) was to 'find yourself'. To experience difference so you realize the 'normal' is relative and what you take for granted is actually quite unusual for others. However others seem to travel for escape. Today I feel like dressing in traditional garb, adopting new religions, and ways of life is a form of escape. However why do we have this need for 'escape'? What is so unhappy about western life? I was thinking the other day that so many people seem to 'convert' to eastern religion, but it is rare (at least to my knowledge) for someone to 'convert' (willingly) to western religion. Is spirituality something that is indicative to humanity and while some find it in science, medicine, or other parts of western life, I guess it doesn't quite do the trick for some people.
However I am still trying to grapple with this question--why do we travel? I can think of many reasons but they for some reason still seem a bit unsatisfactory. For instance in the beginning of this post I mentioned the sensory experience of new foods, smells, and sounds. Others try and find themselves through difference, and others to escape. For me I like to meet people. I like to meet the locals but also other travelers. I guess i like to meet other travelers because I really am puzzled by this question--why do we travel and what is the purpose of travel? I am even not sure why I am in love with galavanting around the world. I like meeting other travellers because I guess I believe that maybe i'll someday come across someone who can enlighten me and answer my query--or complicate my question and add to the array of answers I have already obtained.
However most of all I love collecting stories. I love finding out about all of the many ways one can be human. That is what interests me most. I guess at the moment I am trying to figure out how I can make a career out of collecting stories. I have began by studying anthropology, but I am very interested in artistic expression. For me it seems the medium through which people seem to express what it means to be human is through art. However I also love narratives. I am very interested in narratives and what to explore the narrations and the various ways people make narratives. I guess my blog is my own narrative. So this is my own story. And I will continue to collect the stories of others in order to understand my own.
Erika! What a beautiful post!
ReplyDeleteI am so excited that you have finally made it to India. I'm sure that after these eventful first days, you are experiencing a whole bunch of different feelings - I love those feelings.
About your question 'what is travel'? What intrigues me is the fact that after all our conversations about going to the cultural centre in Kerala, you have chosen to live in Varanasi and work for the admirable Fairmail organization. Perhaps you chose that route rather than the cultural centre because of the 'escapist' aspect of simply going to India, closing yourself off from the realities of the people who live there, and indulging in the food, music, yoga, silence...
Certainly those things are part of travel for me - to escape from the everyday of my own life and experience something new and exciting and wholly different. Another part of it is having time to be completely myself - no prior expectations of who "Mal" is from family or friends or colleagues. I have nothing to perform. I simply be me.
But another part of my longing to travel is my recognition that life is short and we only have one. I kind of think of my life as a collection of sights and sounds and tastes and people. And the more that I move around the world, the more of those images and moments I can collect.
Anyways, that's just a few of my musings after reading your blog. I look forward to following you on the rest of your journeys!!!
Be safe! :)
Mal
We love you Erika... follow your dreams! Love Aunt Tammy
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