Kamakura: Day 2

After finishing our previous day of sightseeing in Kamakura soaked from an afternoon of rain, we were delighted to wake up to a sunny day.  We caught the bus from our Guest House and after having breakfast, explored the biggest and most important shrine in Kamakura: Tsurugaoka Hachiman-gū.

Tsurugaoka Hachiman-gu is a beautiful complex surrounded by trees and water.  After walking up the massive staircase, you reach the main shrine.  If you walk behind the shrine to the left side, there is a very small museum.  We paid the small fee to take a look at the few historical relics displayed.  It was well worth it. 

Purifying our hands before entering the shrine.

Hasedera

After admiring the Diabutsu for a period of time, we pulled out the map our youth hostel had provided.  When we had identified the closest recommended temple for sightseeing, we mounted our rented bicycles and were on our way.   

Hasedera stands out in my mind as one of the more beautiful temple complexes I have visited in Japan thus far.  Nestled on the side of a hill, you must climb several flights of stairs to reach the temple itself.  On the way to the main temple, there are many other lovely things to catch your eye. 

We thoroughly explored the whole complex.  The last area we saw were the underground tunnels.  Hunched over, we made our way through the dimly lit tunnels, admiring the plethora of little Buddha images.  When we emerged from the caves, it had started to rain. 

Hoping the weather would change it’s mind and stop raining, we checked the map again and continued on to our next destination. 

Holidays in Japan

The flurry of the holidays has simmered back down into the regular routine of life.  Our third year being away from home from the holidays.  We always miss our families and friends during this time even more acutely than usual. 

Our first year away we stayed in Japan for the holidays.  It was Karl’s and my first Christmas as a married couple.  We made lots of cookies, sat under our kotatsu, and watched all the Christmas classics. 

Our second year away, we celebrated the holiday season in India.  That was an incredible experience I will not soon forget. 

Our third year away, we had company.  And not just any company-one of my younger sisters made the journey to Japan to visit us during our holiday vacation.  We were delighted to share our Japanese life with her.  

Also-I got a really cute holiday manicure.  Just for fun.  

I'm Still Here

Well. 

Here we are.  So much for the “get the India experience on the blog by the end of January” goal. 

So much for the end of February….and March.

But here I am.

I am one of those people that is constantly setting goals for myself.  You should see my planner notebook…it gets ridiculous.  (Am I the only person that writes down something I have already completed just to simply have the satisfaction of crossing something off immediately?...I didn’t think so. )

So the goal about blogging about my experience in India in a timely fashion did not happen.  Life happened.  Other things got in the way.  Like online classes, horrible colds, and trips. 

But here I am.

So…where was I?

Oh yes.  Chevuru…

The memories of working in Chevuru have all to quickly begun to amalgamate into a lump of nostalgia.  The smiles of the children resonate in my memory.  I have forgotten how weary my body felt from the work and shock of travel. 

When we arrived in Chevuru to the tears and smiles of the people, I had no idea what to expect.  I knew we were there to work.  And work we did.

Our work fell into two categories:

1)    Helping to build physical homes for people.  This meant you were doing one of the following: mixing cement, pouring cement, or passing cement (or sometimes bricks).   That was it.  Pure grunt work, baby.  It was great.  

2)    The second type of work found us in the village whenever we were not sweating profusely and covered with cement dust…usually in the form of small children.  We played with them.  Talked with them.  Visited their homes and families.  Took photos.  Smiled.  Laughed.  Loved.

The four of us volunteers spread ourselves as thinly as possible throughout the village, attempting in vain to oblige every invitation for chai.  The evenings were crowded by smiling faces with a unquenchable thirst for our company.  One such evening we were invited to teach an English lesson in a small building next to the protestant church.

The village children crammed into the one room school house lit by a single long fluorescent light affixed to a wall. The stark blue light reached as far as it could, but still left the far corners of the room unlit.  Nobody cared.  Their bright eyes shone through the dimly lit room, eagerly awaiting entertainment.

We played some games.  The children soaked them up like sponges. 

When we finished, we each took turns speaking to the children, encouraging them to study hard in school.  Although their English level is relatively good, Ravi translated into their native Telugu.  It was heartening to see how eagerly they listened to our messages. 

And though we were exhausted every evening we left the village, we were always excited to return the next day.  

Tuesday December 27th, 2011

So you know that feeling…the one of being somewhere you have never been before.  Somewhere that should be completely unfamiliar.  Somewhere that should challenge your regular way of life. 

The scenery, weather, culture and language are all new.

And yet…you feel right at home.

This is what Chevuru village felt like.  From the moment we first stepped out of the car on the first day, I had a feeling that I was exactly where I needed to be.

Our small group of four volunteers fell into a loose routine:

The day began with breakfast at our hotel in Gudivada.  Traditional Indian breakfast (or peanut butter bread and granola bars for those with stomachs refusing to cooperate with curry) was delicious.  This was my favorite breakfast:

After breakfast, we embarked on our half hour drive to Chevuru.  This drive was one of my favorite parts of the day.  Gawking out the window at the unfamiliar, asking Ravi question after question, listening to the same CD of current Bollywood hits…it never got old. (Find out more about these two movies: Bodyguard and Business Man.)

When we arrived in Chevuru, the children immediately sensed our presence and hunted us down.  Many of the children were fortunately on Christmas vacation from school.  

After arriving, we were treated to a cup of chai made from the milk of a water buffalo.  Mmmm.  I miss that chai. 

And then, the work would begin:

Building walls, mixing cement, passing concrete, passing bricks, returning concrete trays.  Back and forth.  Back and forth. Much more on this later.

Then one of the best times of the day: lunch time.

After lunch, we would either work more, play with the children or visit the homes of villagers.  All of these tasks-we were repeatedly assured by Ravi-were equally important. 

Visiting the homes of villagers was impossible to avoid.  This is because the children would drag you there whether you wanted to go or not.  The opportunity to serve and give hospitality to people who will accept it gratefully is not something these people get to do very often.

As volunteers who traveled to Chevuru to help and give to those in need, learning to accept the hospitality without guilt was our own personal challenge.  How could we accept these gifts knowing full well that those giving have next to nothing?  

We had countless discussions among us four volunteers regarding this matter.  Ravi helped us by giving us the view of the people: joy at being able to give a stranger hospitality that would not be met with scorn.

For myself, it was an incredible feeling that doing something as simple as accepting a delicious cup of tea could be so meaningful to someone.

Sometimes the smallest gestures can truly carry the most meaning.

This gracious woman took us to her home and offered us coconut water. 

Monday December 26th, 2011

 

They were waiting for us, all gathered about the brightly painted house just across from the church.  Curious eyes strained to get a look at us as we came to a stop.  We stepped out of the car and into an embrace we will not soon forget.

Joy and gratitude emanated from the faces of the people as they draped enormous flower garlands about our necks.  A tiny old woman reached up to my face and took it in her hands.  Her eyes stared into mine, saying so much more than words could ever hope to. 

The exuberance of the children flowed forth in an inextinguishable current.  Wonder and excitement beamed from their faces.

Ravi translated into the native language of Telugu as we took turns introducing ourselves, amidst laughter, tears, and applause.

As the introductions concluded, we were each bombarded with curiosity in the form of small children.  A cart pulled by two water buffalo was riding by; the children pulled us on board to go for a ride. 

After our short ride with the water buffalo, we were invited for chai.  This was our first daily morning cup of tea.  Afterwards, we would begin our work in helping rebuild Chevuru.

This village called Chevuru would become our home and steal our hearts over the following ten days. 

Chevuru is a small place in the countryside of the Indian state, Andrah Paradesh.  It lies fewer than 20 kilometers from the coast of the Indian Ocean.  Palm trees and fields surround the village.

The history of Chevuru is very long, though I am afraid I do not recall specifics.  A very long time ago, only Dalit people lived there.  They were their own community.  During that time, most people had to travel by foot.  Thus traveling far distances took a long time and, naturally, stopping frequently for water and rest was a necessity.

Because Chevuru was only home to Dalits, upper caste people refused to accept their “untouchable” hospitality when passing through on a journey.  So some upper caste families came to live in Chevuru in order that other upper caste members could stop and receive refreshment when passing through. 

These wealthier upper caste people were able to purchase much of the land surrounding Chevuru.  More and more of them moved into Chevuru, on either side of the Dalit area creating a sort of “sandwich” of a village.

The Dalit people there face the type of discrimination that is dictated by the caste in which they are born.  This means that they must work extremely hard in order to achieve opportunities that others might take for granted.  They are only hired to do the jobs no one else wants to do-some of which are seasonal.

Unfortunately, the Dalit people also face uncertainty in regards to their homes.  Sturdy materials such as wood and cement are expensive and far out of reach for the meager earnings of a Dalit family.  Most homes are built using mud, straw, and palm fronds.

As one might imagine, these are not very sturdy homes.  Especially so when it comes to the annual rainy season, monsoons, and typhoons.  Rebuilding homes is almost an annual necessity for these people.  They must use precious time-time they should be working to build a better future for them and their families. 

The volunteer work that Go Longitude and ARV coordinate does so much more for these people than simply provide them with sound homes.  Watch this video (it's of a CNN team working in Chevuru) for a tiny peek at the work that has already been completed and that continues.  

This is another good video showing the work Go Longitude and ARV are doing:

More to come...

Saturday December 24th, 2011 (Chirstmas Eve in China)

knock knock knock

“That must be our breakfast.”

I opened the door.  A petite Chinese woman handed me a bag, nodding her head politely before continuing with her deliveries.

I spread out our Christmas Eve Breakfast, describing the contents to Karl.

“Two juice box drinks…looks like milk.  And….ten slices of white bread.”

Mmm.

No complaining for the low, low price of free.  Fortunately, I had thought to bring along a jar of peanut butter.  

We forgot a butter knife, but fortunately the pen in the room worked.

As we feasted upon our bread, peanut butter and what turned out to be yogurt drinks, we lazily flipped through the TV channels.  Sleazy hotel rooms in Guangzhou have a decidedly un-Christmasy ambience.  So when we came upon a PBS Christmas concert special with Andrea Boccelli (in English!) we sat back and soaked in the Christmas cheer.  There was even a number featuring the Muppets.

After a while we decided to make some of the provided tea to wash down the peanut butter bread.  As I was handing a cup to Karl, I laughed.  We would not be drinking any tea.  There was lipstick on the cup.  Sure, we could have wiped them off and ignored it…but no.  We didn’t want tea that badly.

After the Christmas concert ended, we decided to go explore Guangzhou.  Since we didn’t have a single Chinese yuan on us, we just took a walk.  No delicious Chinese lunch for us.  

By far the most interesting thing we found was an open-air food market.  What a way to shop for groceries.  

Fresh produce, as far as the eye can see.

Who wants a snake in a bag!?

How about a turtle or an eel?

So many varieties of mushrooms.

Shopping for fish.

The aftermath of a chicken.

Geese, waiting to be sold.

Surrounded by a mountain range of cookware.

Digging through the mandarins.

Many varieties of rice.

After wandering around for a while, we made our way back to our hotel.  We were being driven back to the airport that afternoon. 

Once we arrived at the airport, we made it through security with enough time to spare to buy something to eat that was not bread and peanut butter.  Thank goodness.

Unfortunately our plane this time was significantly smaller and less comfortable than the previous flight.  Sigh.  We were surrounded by cranky, rude people and crying babies.

It was a long flight.

When we touched down in New Delhi, it was 9 pm, the same day.  We successfully made our way through security, retrieved our luggage and exchanged our money.  Now we just had to make it to our hotel.

If you are like me, then you are the type of person who does extensive reading about your destination before traveling.  For India in particular, I feel this was very wise.  I learned many things about traveling in India, including how to take a taxi.

India is full of people who try to take advantage of unsuspecting foreigners.   

As we cleared security and walked out to the airport exit, we were practically mobbed by taxi drivers wanting to secure our business. 

“Hello! Hello!  Where you want to go?  I take you there!  Come! My car! Hello! Hello! You come with me!”

We ignored their attempts to grab our luggage and made our way to the pre-paid taxi booth.  It’s the only way to get a taxi in India without haggling for a decent price.

Unfortunately, we did not see the official Police run booth (by far the most reasonable fare you will get) but instead went to the private company pre-paid booth. 

Pre-paid taxis are important for a few reasons:  1) You will get a fair price. 2) The driver will take you where you want to go.  There have been countless instances of travels being taken to the wrong hotel because, “Your hotel is sold-out. No rooms.  No worry-my brother runs a hotel.  Very nice.”  I was thankful that I had taken the time to study maps and locations of our hotels.

We made it safe and sound to our hotel (which was clean in terms of Indian hotels) set the alarm, showered and collapsed into bed after our very long and tiring Christmas Eve.

One more day of travel lay between us and our destination.