A Deeper Understanding

As many of you know, since my arrival in Hyderabad there as been consistent political/social unrest in and around the city. The 'agitation' is a political dispute grounded in the desire for certain fractions of the society wanting to create separate states within Andhra Pradesh. The official word is "bandh" stemming from the Hindu word for 'closed'. Basically, they shut down the city through their civil unrest.

These agitations are non-violent. The purpose is not to instill fear in the populace rather it is to create leverage within the existing government in the hopes that they will capitulate and create these separate states.

Prior to these experiences I had never had the opportunity to witness and be (sort of) part of a social/civil movement. But, as this situation has unfolded and continued my understanding and appreciation for such movements has grown.

The power of such movements is in their ability to stop the running of day to day life. As I read and hear about the reign of terror in Pakistan I am beginning to realize the vital difference between these two types of disobedience. Here in Hyderabad I feel no fear and therefore I don't necessarily mind supporting the actions of these groups. Furthermore, the government here can safely (from a political standpoint) also support them - they are not killing civilians!

These types of civil disobedience demand dialogue because they strike at the heart of what makes any country or city work: the day to day commerce and operations. Here, now, I am feeling the frustration of never being able to go to work; of canceling meetings, having to leave early or not coming in at all. I can't do my job! But I don't feel fear. Rather, I am annoyed and want the issue resolved. I want resolution so that I and everyone else can continue our day to day lives.

I wouldn't feel this way if I was worried about my local market being bombed or my life being taken from me or the lives of my friends and loved ones. In this situation, I would feel rage and desire revenge (lets be honest!).

And here I have an AH-HA moment (in the words of the Acumen Fund): It is not the challenging of authority or status quo which is the problem (I never thought it was, go for it!); rather, it is the way in which you go about it. Blatant disregard for human life - this is wrong - this strikes not at what makes a city work but at a very primal, gutteral instict: Survival. And, I challenge you all to think of a time when the fear for your SURVIVAL has ever made you desire resolution. Instead, when you worry about surviving your response is to FIGHT BACK it is animalistic and immediate. And when someone takes from you something you love - the response is the same - to fight. Instead of encouraging resolution or change these types of action seem to encourage just the opposite: a desperate clinging to of the way things were, of a given belief system and way of life because anything is better then the way things are going to be or are.

Even worse, when you start a fight based on violence you legitimize any violence inflicted upon you by your opposition. Ergo the phrase: violence begits violence.

Civil disobendience inspires almost exactly the opposite. As the daily mechanisms of the city fall apart resolution becomes urgent and necessary and valid. As a citizen I am not fearful and my safety has not been threatened so I do not resent creating a resolution, I appreciate it and perhaps see it as my government doing its job: managing the society. Furthermore, I would see any violence inflicted upon these separatists as unfounded, illegitimate and wrong. Here, the only solution is resolution.

So, as I sit here today with the city shut down around me I realize that inside all this chaos is certain opportunity - at the very least, to learn and hopefully/potentially to affect change.

I certainly do not know the solution to the troubles of Pakistan or Afghanistan or any other such situation. But what I believe is that dialogue and communication seem to be of the utmost importance in situations like these. I also know that as the violence continues we are all pushing ourselves further away from every reaching any sort of basic undertstanding of each other and the world around us. We are polarizing an issue which needs exactly the opposite. Only through understanding is empathy formed. And, what we really really need is some empathy.

So, I sit back and ask perhaps the most important question: What is desired by these militant groups - really, what is the aim? I am sure the answer is not simple and may never be but what I want and need to believe is that all of us, being human, value life and its dignity and see some sanctity in both. If not, what is holding us together as the world unites us?

Christmas In India + Photos

Merry Christmas everyone and I hope you are all enjoying your holidays and the time off of work. My Christmas was rather uneventful but I guess that is to be expected when most people do not celebrate :(.

If nothing else, it serves as a reminder of how important family is and how much you miss them when you don't have the option of being part of the celebration. Tomorrow is back to work for me and for lack of having anything better to put up I have posted some pictures which you might enjoy. Everyone loves pictures - right!




This is Dr. Rama Devi and her moped. She and I drive around on this moped when we go to visit different hospital locations. Dr. Rama is also giving me a crash course in OB care and what causes fetal distress, c-sections and poor clinical outcomes. I feel like I am in medical school when I am with her!

These are the two baby goats right by my office. They are pretty darn cute!

This is an up close shot of one of them.

This is me and Jane. Jane is from Canada and has lived in Hyderabad for 7 years. She has been a good friend to me here.

From left to right is Padma (head of HR at LifeSpring); Doctor Vasenta Theodore (Head Doctor at LifeSpring) and Doctor Rama Devi (Head of Quality Control at LifeSpring). This is Christmas Eve and we are all at a gathering at Dr. Vasenta house. These three ladies are some of my favorites!

This is Sam and he is the son of Dr. Theodore (pictures above). As is typical for Indian families Sam lives with his wife and his mother as well as many other extended family members in the same home or unit of homes. The party was at their house and we were on the roof (you can see the fire in the background).

This is me and Dr. Vasenta - Dr. V is who performed the C-section I witnessed. She has been very good to me during my time at LifeSpring. Still working on seeing the natural birth but I am sure that day will come.

From Left to Right is Padma (pictures above); Priya (the wife of the CEO of LifeSpring) and Sam's wife. The Sari Sam's wife is wearing is the type worn only during the holidays since it silk with a great deal of hand work. Beautiful!

So, there is a bit about my holidays. Nothing too special but perhaps gives you an idea of what my day to day looks like!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Meghan

Ugh...

So, I must say with all honesty that although I am doing my best to keep my head up and my heart in check the homesickness is still blighting my body to a certain extent.

Lately, each day has been a bit of a roller coaster of emotions ranging from apathy to anger to love. My rickshaw driver, who had been such a life saver to me and eliminated part of my life which was very aggrevating (nogotiating with rickshaw drivers) has gone completely AWOL and today showed up at my door demanding money. I asked him where he had been for the last week and he told me he had been too sick to call (and also apparently too sick to even tell his sister who is our maid that he was sick). However, he was apparently NOT too sick to walk to my apartment and demand money. As you might have guessed, this did not go over well. I told him that if he could manage to get to my apartment tomorrow I would pay him then.

I have decided to buy a moped. The rickshaw drivers and me are like oil and water - perhaps both of us are a bit too unwilling to let go of our money :). I guess, if nothing else I have to admire their gumption. Honestly, anyone who can out-stubborn me deserves a medal. They are little shits! If only we could create some sort of team - they drive one hell of a bargain.

Then there are the moments like last night where the rickshaw driver taking me home got lost and what should have taken about a half-hour took 1.5 hours. At first I was angry (rickshaws have that effect on me!) and then, eventually, I just started to laugh and the driver just turned to me and threw his hands in the air and we just both laughed together. Of course, he then proceded to demand way more money than he deserved and I gave him the money on the meter and walked away...but we HAD our laugh!

More than anything, I keep reminding myself that the world is not centered around me. Rather, the world is how I choose to perceive it and as long as I can control my perceptions and remind myself that what is happening is largely not about me...I will be okay. After all, it is these very experiences which will allow me to see the world through a new lens - one which is about being a minority in a country where the rules of engagement are so very different then what I understand and appreciate. But, good lord, this is so very hard.

There are those moments of increadible lightness when I see an infant laying in the dirt by the side of the road while its mother is begging at my feet and I know, with infinite certainty that these experiences will change my life forever. That my perceptions of need and dignity and sanctity of life will forever shift to include the realities of these people - and appreciate my own much more.

If nothing else, life is about experience. It is only through experience that we can grow and understand and realize that the world is spinning vastly outside of our control - that the very most we can do is hold onto what we value and integrate that into what we see. My greatest success will be to learn through these experiences rather than to conquer them.

So, perhaps what I am struggling with the very most is this element of surrender. Of understanding that in order to survive I will have to recognize that India is not about me; rather, it is about how I perceive it, how I sift through the daily barrage of experiences and sensations and disappointments. I am learning but perhaps not as gracefully as I would like.

At the end of the day I remind myself that I chose this: the struggle and the bliss. And I also remind myself that by choosing this some part of me, conscious or not, knows what is best for me, what will bring me closer to the type of person I imagine myself to be.

I am moving closer to consciousness as we speak.
Rickshaw drivers beware!

Sensational

So, I have been inspired to write this blog for a number of reasons.

I believe I have done a rather good job of describing to you the sights of India and providing some of them in pictures. What I realize I have failed in giving you is all of the other sensory experiences which are India.

Let it be said that India is a full time sensory assault. And, when I say assault, I mean ASSAULT.

Lets begin with the smells: The broad overview is that India is a melting pot of development, affluence, poverty and agrarianism. The sheer number of animals (large and small) running freely about India is actually quite endearing (at least for me). For instance, there is a herd (6-8) of water buffalo which wonder about Chilkalguda (the area where my office is located). Outside my office there are also several goats and one family in particular which is a Mom with two twin kids. They are really cute! There are also goats tied up to each random tree and every once in a while you one goes missing (or you find it hanging at the local butcher shop). Lets not forget the somewhat rarer dairy (Holstein) cow as well as the cats, dogs, chickens and sheep. These animals typically act as scavengers and feast on the local piles of garbage or whatever else might serve as food. Such a pretty picture...right.

Well...now imagine what this might smell like.

They are EATING PILES OF GARBAGE. They are openly defecating and roaming around the city at will. Goats smell! They smell badly. Cows are large and produce a great deal of.....you know what. Chickens are dirty and Indian poverty chickens are even dirtier.

India smells...and most of the time it smells badly. My ride to work is a hero's journey ranging from gasping on the fumes of carbon monoxide & dioxide to choking on the stench of open human and animal defecation. Sometimes the smell of goat is so strong you can feel it resting on your tongue - you may as well have licked it.

This is all mixed with local venders who fry food from dawn to dusk. And lets not forget the butcher shops where meat hangs out in the open all day in 80 degree heat.

And then there is the random stench of burning trash, burning land and burning coal or wood.

Heat augments smell. I am sorry India, but you smell!

There is the random reprieve of incense. I have come to believe that incense was created for the sole purpose of masking the intense smells of India! And sometimes it works but even this seems overpowering. There are days I am walking up the stairs to my apartment and am nearly bowled over by the wafting of incense fumigating the apartment building.

India doesn't do smells in moderation. You are either choking on shit or choking on sandalwood.

Now that I have given you the abbreviated rundown of the smells lets move onto sounds.

India is loud and cacophonous. Horns are sounding all day and all night: seriously. India is a place where honking is not only welcome but encouraged. The traffic is so bad and so erratic and the drivers so bold that honking is basically saying: "I am here, I will try not to hit you if you try not to hit me." Somehow it works...with the random love tap in between. There is no standardization of horns. For instance, my rickshaw driver (who has become increasingly wayward) has a blow horn on his rickshaw. Basically, he squeezes it with his right hand while he drives with his left. The buses have the worst horns by far. Horns which make me cover my ears and shudder as they pass me in my little rickshaw. Sounds which make your ears bleed. India is full of loud, intimidating, constant, brash and brutish sounds.

The call to prayer is the incense of India's world of sound. Each day (5 times daily) the world of India is quieted and then uplifted by the (Muslim) call to prayer. I can't really describe this sound but it is a loud, hollow horn which sounds distant and spiritual. I like it very much.

Indian's are also people of song and music. You will often hear sellers singing the song of their sales and an eerie, hollow voice.

So, all in all the sights and sounds of India are like the rest of it: incongruous, unforgiving and unforgettable.

Hope this helps to complete the picture.

My Choice

Despite how much you are prepared for it or how much you know it is going to happen; despite all the internal coaching and self-talk, there is nothing which will ever prepare you for feeling homesick. I have been rather quite lately because I have been homesick and then I decided perhaps I should just write about it since it is all I really think about and then I started thinking about it some more and realized I had to write.

Homesickness always strikes about 3.5 weeks in...when everything is no longer bright and shiney and the fact that you can't drink tap water suddenly drives you insane and you become angry at your boyfriend because he doesn't seem to be emailing enough (how dare he ever not be thinking of you!) and you refuse to answer calls because it just seems like too much work - and really who wants to hear your dithering anyway. You feel left-out, forgotten and suddenly VERY FAR from home. Lets just say it doesn't always bring out the best in people. The best you can really do is take it, put it outside yourself, acknowledge it and let it go. The holidays don't help either. Breathe.

Tonight, I began to think of my homesickness in a bit of a different light. It sort of all began when one of my fellow fellow's mentioned that he had a friend coming into town. When he said this, I felt jealous...he always has friends coming into town! (but it also made me reflect). He and I come from extremely different backgrounds. He has spent nearly his entire life traveling, he speaks three languages and perhaps (dare I put words in his mouth) his greatest fear is staying any one place too long. I, on the other hand come from pretty much one place. Most of my entire family comes from that one place and most of them do not possess passports (but some are working on it!). Perhaps my greatest fear is getting stuck.

He has friends visiting because his friends are from all around the world. They all own passports and probably have had to have them refilled more than once. These people are likely not just traveling for work - they are traveling because it is part of their culture, their identity.

I will never have this reality. I will never have a revolving door of visitors. My people, as part of their culture and identity, stay put.

Viewed through this lens, my choice to do this, to travel this far is much different then my friend's choice. This is not a judgement but a realization that people have tried to point out to me before and I have just never fully appreciated.

As I have been writing this blog I have been continually thrilled and honored by the enthusiasm with which people have read it. The responses have been a huge part of me keeping it up. What I have come to believe is that part of my journey is sharing this experience with all the people in my life who will never, ever see India. It is bringing something to their doorstep in a way which works inside their culture. I believe it is also a way of making the world a little smaller and allowing people the opportunity to have understanding and empathy for something which is so outside their own reality yet coming in the words and voice of someone who understands them. It is also allowing that brave someone the opportunity to visit..if they want. And, I am honored for that opportunity.

My choice, coming from a culture where leaving home is not extremely common and where many have lived in the same state or within the same two hour distance their entire life, is to be the one to leave. It is a choice which has not been easy and which has involved both sacrifice and risk, but I wouldn't change it for the world.

So, I will remain homesick and I will envy my friend who has an eternal list of visitors but I will also keep writing because I know people are reading.

And, of course, I will secretly hope that one or all of you will decide to visit.

The Ugly

As I mentioned in one of my previous posts, one of the best things about working at LifeSpring is the fact that whenever you are feeling a bit down you can go two floors down and check in on the clients (mothers and babies) of the hospital.

On Saturday as I was trying to leave the hospital (due to the political agitation) I had the wonderful opportunity to see the mother and child of whom I witnessed the C-section. The mother was there for a post-surgical check up.

An older woman, who I would soon learn was the mother's mother immediately handed the newborn to me. She looked so much better and was beautiful in every sense of the word. She now has a full head of hair. Perhaps the most interesting or amazing thing about her was the way she slept...with such intention. Having never been around a newborn, I have never realized how intently they sleep...as if this is her only job on earth - to sleep. Her little hands were clenched in tight fists and as I looked at her I couldn't help but sort of fall in love with the little thing. She was spectacular.

I turned to the mother, "she is beautiful."

The mother solemnly replied, "she is?"

"Yes, she is looking so healthy and happy," I said.

The mother then looked at me and said, "No one has come to see her - my husband and his family refuse to see her because they are angry and upset she is a girl."

To this point, I simply did not know how to reply. What do you say? All I could think was here is a perfect little human being who is, thus far, unmarked by life...but is she really?

Coming from the Western world, I once again was forced to swallow the reality of my luxuries. In India, the male child is still out rightly favored. He eats before the female child, he goes to school before the female child and he is valued more than the female child - end of story. This gender bias is a major catalyst to mal-nutrition issues as well as many others. In India, it is illegal (atleast on paper) to have any test performed which identifies the sex of the child because of the ever existing risk of female infanticide.

And these thoughts don't even touch on the way it must feel to the mother of the child who is a female herself and THE MOTHER OF THE CHILD.

As I am holding this baby all I can think is how ridiculous this whole notion is and all I can wonder at is how this still exists eventhough I fully understand why it exists and the history behind these types of cultural bias.

I continue to hold the child and just say "she is happy and healthy and that is what matter." But now I sort of feel like a fraud because, clearly, this is not all that matters. In fact, what matters most is that she is a girl.

The mother slowly dabs away of couple of tears and remains eerily quiet. She is neither disagreeing or agreeing with me. She is just there - she is just stuck here a week after major surgery with an infant no one feels is good enough.

"Is this your first baby?"

"Yes."

"Will you have another?"

"I don't' know," she shrugs as she looks away from me.

And as she looks away she puts her hand on top of mine and I turn to her and say, "It will be okay."

And, honestly, from that moment forward I have been thinking on that coy little phrase: "it will be okay." Here I am, white, educated, free and female. Who am I to say this. In reality, it might very well not be okay. It is not okay now, in this moment. This mother has been abandoned, thus far, by the father of her child. She has been made to feel inadequate, unworthy and shamed. This child, so small I am holding her in the palm of my hand, has hardly began life and yet she has already been condemned to a certain reality: FEMALE.

I don't know why I said "it will be okay." The more I think on it, the more I begin to believe that I likely said it more for myself than for this mother.

Bandh

Sorry for the delay in posting the past five days have been filled with many new experiences so I have quite a lot to write about but no time to write. Here I am at last!

Saturday, December 5th was a bit of a scary day. What started off as a normal working day led to an evacuation of my office at about 4 PM. There was rioting in the city, buildings had been burned and there was SOME violence targeted toward white people (or so I was told). Most of the agitation had happened near where I am living so the roads getting home were completely blocked. My rickshaw driver was trying to pick me up but everyone at my office was worried about my safety riding home in a rickshaw.

In the end, I was taken home in the back of an ambulance (got to play a basic game of hide the white girl).

The riots are politically funded and rooted in the desire of some of the populace wanting two separate states formed out of the single existing state Andhra Pradesh. The chief of the separation party began fasting last week and was admitted to ICU on Saturday, feuling the initial riots, he remains in ICU with a worsening condition and has refused to take any sort of nourishing fluids, etc.

This article gives a brief synopsis of what is going on and the fact that the violence, rioting and agitation is supposed to continue: http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/TRS-chiefs-condition-worsens-turmoil-in-Andhra/articleshow/5317745.cms

This leads us to the word Bandh: A Bandh is originally a Hindi word meaning 'closed' and essentially means that the city is expected to close-down tomorrow...it is essentially a lock-down. We were on a 48+ Bandh from Saturday - Monday of this week and are now having another tomorrow.

Bandhs, in a nutshell, suck. Nothing is open, there is nothing to do, and people are encouraged to not go anywhere. BORING.

So, all in all this has been a real experience in what it is like to live in a culture where things are slightly unstable. That being said things are really not that bad - more of a nuicance than anything. My thoughts are more with my friends who are currently placed in Lahore, Pakistan where the bombings of Moon Market have recently shaken a previously rather secure area. If you say any prayers, pray for them and their safety.

Meghan