India

April 4           

There are a few events in a person’s life where attention is drawn to them and there is nothing they can do about it One of these event that many people go through is going to college. As the days tick by, getting closer and closer to graduation the question start to multiple. “Where are you going to school? What will you be studying? Are you excited?”- All these question will be asked and the kids will start to formulate preset answers. By the time the child is ready for school he will have memorized and mastered answers to any and all questions.

            India is one of these situations, but it’s not exactly the same. The questions are the same, but the answers seem to be always different.  When people ask what it was like I usually say different. It is so hard to explain this, but I really do mean it. When I say it’s different I mean every single little thing is different, they way they drive, the way they eat, the way they talk, just the way they live. It is all so different. I want to sit down and explain each of the differences to everyone, but I feel it’s not something people would necessarily like to hear. I think the reason I want to talk about India so much is simply because I miss it so much.

            I miss my students, my friends, my rickshaws, my driver, my food, my apartment, my shopping, my work, my India. I knew it would be a long adjustment when the first thing I did on my computer is I started to look for a date I could return. I think all this missing has started to drive me crazy. I feel like a proud parent constantly looking for an excuse to show off or talk about my kids. My little come up to me to tell me he got his report card and I regrettable returned with a smug, “All my students just passed their exams!”

            What is really weird about the whole adjusting thing is that it actually seems like it was harder to adjust back into American life then it was first adjusting to Indian life. I feel that it is because I was forced to pick up the pace. In India we worked in then we relaxed, talked, and had a cup of tea for a bit. Here I work and then get in trouble if I stop. It is just all too fast!

            Aside from all this negativity, I do like being back. I love seeing my family, friends, and just being reacquainted with the things I’ve missed. It’s nice to have a soft mattress, a normal shower, and American food (although now all the prices seem way to high!).  I really can’t stop thinking about the people of Indian though, so to have an excuse to keep thinking about them, I’m going to jump right into talking about them, and fundraising for them.

            In the beginning of this adventure I talked about my journey and how it would end in the beginning or April. I have come back and now am only waiting for the right time to return. So what I said was false. My journey has not yet ended. Though I am not there teaching I am here trying to spread the word and raise some money until I can return. The beginning of April now really only marks the end of one thing (besides March) and that is the end of this blog. This is my 50^th entry as well as my last. Of course I might pull a Michael Jordan and come back to add another one or two about fundraising before completely retiring.

            I have said goodbye to my students and friends in India and so now it is time for my last farewell. It’s been good friends and mystery viewers of the cyber blogosphere! I hope you have all enjoyed or at least learned something from this blog and I will definitely miss writing. Though I have urged in the past, I urge again, please contact me! Give me an excuse to talk about India or try and help out.

            In closing, I want to give a special thanks to all of you who have donated to this trip. I can’t thank you enough and I love you all. While I was in the hills of the Himalayas I thought about one of my favorite ideas on the topic of helping others. It is the idea that if you give it your all to climb a mountain you will be rewarded at the top. You will have to give it your all and fight to reach the top, but that top, that goal will be worth it all. Not only from the top can you feel accomplished, but also from there you can see a range of other mountains that need to be climbed. This adventure has been a mountain and it has pushed me to continue climbing. You gave me the equipment to start this journey, which has turned out to be the journey of a lifetime. Thank you so so much, I hope you have enjoyed at least some of this blog, and most importantly- keep climbing.

Much love,

Jake

My class

Sushil- eating chocolate cake on my last day

Rajkumar displaying his cube project

            March 31

The reason people are drawn to travel is because it is such an exercise for the senses. For a certain amount of time you are completely engulfed in a sea of new sites, sounds, smells, and taste. The change and the newness of it all is what I love. My trip from Delhi to Siliguri, then to Kurseong, and finally to Darjeeling was a perfect example of all this. These areas introduced me to an India unlike any that I had seen.

            These three towns are located in the Eastern half of India and are snuggled in the legendary Himalayas. Darjeeling was the main destination and I couldn’t tell you how excited I was to see the snow covered peaks of this massive mountains. I was going to be able to even see the mighty Everest.

             Traveling of course can be stressful, so it was so nice to have my father along side me for this week trip. We both landed and took a cab to our first hotel in Siliguri. The town was small and pretty much based off one road. The market was fill with live chickens being prepared to sell and random religious items being sold from stand to stand. We couldn’t find much to do here so I suggested a movie.

            India is known for it’s movies and is second in this industry only behind Hollywood.  This Bollywood scene is mostly based out of Mumbai and it produces movies 24/7. Though many are very low grade and poorly put together- some are very very good and professional. The one I took my father to see was one starring the classy, dreamy, beloved, shahRukh Khan! I would explain to movie, but when discussing the film with some people before I was told that it was in fact in the theaters in the U.S. I had seen this movie, but I loved watching it again and I think my dad was really caught off guard by some of the movie differences- such as intermission and assigned seats.

            After the second day we had a car drive us to the first hill town know as Kurseong. Here we would do nothing, but wait. It was a crowded town that’s roads where filled with jeeps. I walked up the streets that were filled with various shops and I was instantly struck with the difference. The first thing I thought was, “where are the Indians?” Of course the people of Kurseong are Indians, but they don’t appear as your average Indian, they look more Chinese.  The reason is because these hills are filled with the Tibetan people. You looked around and you would see monks and prayers flags all around. It was so beautiful.

            As the shops started to close down for lunch I heard the loud blow of a steam horn. Again and again the piercing noise rattled the narrow streets. When I saw the steam burrow over the wall of the train station, I knew what it was- it was my train to Darjeeling. The Darjeeling train is the second highest altitude train in the world and it is one of the oldest trains, but here in India it is known for something else, being the slowest train. Despite it’s unbearably slow pace it is a must see. This train took us on a scenic route along the edge of these mountains. The whole time you could here the train chugging along to the beat of “I think I can I think I can!” But after numerous stops one couldn’t help but think- “do you really think so?”

            What drew me to the train ride was who had once ridden it. Many who know me know of my love for Mr. Mark Twain.  In mark Twain’s book Following the Equator he discusses his journey to this foreign India. Although he came here and did more notable things like gave Gandhi a copy of Huck Finn, he also came here and rode the Darjeeling train. The glory of it all wore off though as the seven-hour train ride rolled on.

            We got to dead black town of Darjeeling at about ten and was forced to find our own way home, a home we had never seen. When we found our hotel we both collapsed exhausted and slept throughout the night.  When I finally woke up I glanced outside to see the view in the daylight. Nothing. It was so cloudy I couldn’t see ten feet in front of me. The only part of the mountain we got to experience was walking up its hills to get from place to place. There would be no good view of the mountains until are journey out three days later.

            We did get to see some pretty amazing things regardless. The first day we spent exploring the town and visiting the Darjeeling zoo as well as the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute (HMI).  The streets were filled with Chinese restaurants and Tibetan art, which I never quite got use to. It really showed me how diverse India actually was.  The zoo housed animals I had never seen before animals that have strived in these harsh mountains for hundreds of years. HMI was connected to the zoo, which made a quick and interesting transition from animals to climbing. Reading about these people climbing Everest twice or without oxygen tanks made me feel pretty depressed that I had been complaining about my feet from the walking.

            The next day we woke up to even more clouds, which pretty much stabbed our thoughts of seeing the mountains. Because of this we decided to check out what Darjeeling was known for, which is its tea. We were lucky enough to be shown around a tea plantation and factory that was located right on the side of the mountain. It was so neat learning about the tea being picked and dried out- it also made me crave a huge pot of Darjeeling’s finest. Our driver plowed his way up the mountain towards our last destination for the day, which was Observatory hill.

            Observatory Hill is an old holy spot for both Hindus and Buddhist. It sits right on top of a hill and looks like it is in a small forest. The trees host thousands of strings with flags hanging down from them. These are the famous Buddhist prayer flags, each containing different prayers inscribed on them. This temple was one of the favorites I had seen and it led me wanting to see another Buddhist house of Worship.

            So, before we made our way to the airport we stopped by the oldest monastery on the mountain, which is located in the town of Ghoom. Like many Buddhist temples this monastery is tucked away in a peaceful quiet area. We were greeted by a monk who showed us into a room that housed a five meter high Buddha statues along with other artifacts, such as photos of the Dali Lama with the Pope, holy books, and loads of bananas- which he kindly offered to us. It was so weird to think that in a two-hour flight I have gone from mostly Hindu temples and Mosque to Buddhist monasteries. This truly is, Incredible India.

            Before long though it was time to go and we were winding down the mountain, accelerating, slamming on the breaks, and dodging pot holes as well as the edge of a mountain. As I looked out my window I finally got to see what I had come to see. The beautiful Himalayas- and man was it cool. Though it came late, these views were a great way to close out the trip. I needed this get away and it was great time spent, but now I’m back in Delhi and the stress is about to pile up.

            Tomorrow I am going to Pappankalan for a last little get together with some of the people and then I will try and enjoy my last day in Delhi. I will be flying out that night. Bittersweet at it’s finest.

The freezing wind against the millions of prayer flags

more flags

the train

I DON’T KNOW WHY THE PHOTOS STILL AREN’T WORKING!!! I’M SORRY.

March 26

            I fought the tears as I prepared for class. Grabbing my chocolate cake the kids ask for and meeting my driver. It was a very sad day, it was my last day. I rode to Pappankalan in complete silence just trying to accept the words I kept practicing in my head, “goodbye.”

            When I arrived on the side of the road my students were already waiting where my car normally parks. They all raced to my side fighting to grab my hand. “God, stopping being so sweet, you’re not making it easy!” I thought. They ushered me into the small room I had spent everyday in for the past twelve weeks. Quickly, they saw my thoughts whirling. “Sirji, no sad.” They all frowned. I laughed with a weak smile and hugged them all.

            I started the class by handing out their family photos. They got excited as they past around each others pictures, glancing, than passing. I was so proud of how hard they worked even though there was a chocolate cake amongst them. We finished their cubes and the sparked seeing the completed project. Each student asked me to take a photo of them with their cubes. I would snap the photo and then they would flip the box to another side and ask again. 72 photos later it was time to move on. They said they would like to play our favorite game, “animals.” So for the remainder of the class we snorted like pigs, howled like wolves, and tweeted like birds. They really kept my mind off leaving, but like all things the game had to end.

            When lunch time came around, I passed out their new lunch mats (thanks mom and dad) and I cut the cake. It was then that I was given one of the most touching gifts I have ever gotten. Induji handed me a small box and the children urged me to open it. Inside was a glass figure of the god, Ganesh, who is the “mover of obstacles.”  I couldn’t possibly thank her enough or explain how symbolic such a gift was. I have a feeling she knew though.

            As the cake was consumed the children started asking final questions through their stuffed mouths. “When will you come back, Sirji?” They asked in Hindi. Induji told them that I would return after I completed school and then they started asking how many years I had left. “I will come back!” I told them. And we all smiled, knowing it was true.

            I thought about everything these children had done for me and I continued to fight the tears. I thought about Monu, Sanjay, and Rajkumar asking for my phone number so they could call me. I thought about Sharuk and Depak making me paper hearts. I smiled as I looked at Salman and remembered the time he asked if I had a girlfriend and when I said no, he said he’d look for one. Gaurav and his hugs, Sharuk and his smile, Neeraj and his laugh, Abdul with his acrobatics- it all had just whizzed by me so quickly.

            Sharuk and Salman hoped in the car with Depak, Induji, and I as we drove Depak home. They hadn’t experienced the car ride with the students last time. Depak took me to his house and I said goodbye. I returned and said goodbye to the rest of the children as I started my walk to the sewing room for a final cup of tea. All the teachers came and we cut the second chocolate cake I had brought. Induji translated as one of the teachers said we will miss you, Jake in Hindi. I looked down and said, “I don’t want to go.” But wants don’t always match up with needs and soon after I was in the car back to my apartment.

            This worst part of this whole thing was it was only the beginning. Seeing how hard this first goodbye was I dreaded the coming ones. Here in India not only had I fallen in love with the children and the country, but I had also made friends and in those friends I had made a best friend.

            Heather and I never left each other’s side in our free time here and this last day with her was no different. We ate, went to the movies, ate again, packed, watched TV, and ate again never once standing more then an arms length away from each other. As you can see we did a lot of eating, it’s what we have come to know as stress eating.

            We went to bed late and woke up early to have as much time as possible together, but like Pappankalan eventually I had to leave. The Ganesh gift was quickly matched as Heather handed me one of her bracelets that they made after her fiancée’s death. To have something to not only remember her by, but also to remember the preciousness of life and the power of love is the greatest gift anyone could ever ask for. I made her promise to text me the second she got home and we both vowed to go on at least on trip a year together.

            So with Daniel’s journal, Induju’s Ganesh, and Heather’s bracelet I prepare for my final goodbye. Not yet though, first I must see a little more of this country I love. So until Wednesday I will be nestled in the mountains in a place known for its tea. Darjeeling will be my last look at India and I couldn’t be more excited.

         —I am sorry I can’t add photos; my computer is tucked away in my packed bags. I will update this and the coming blog when I return in a week—

First of all I would like to apologize for not putting up any entries for such a long time. The reasoning is because the power has been down for the whole week. I am currently at 47 entries and I have set 50 as my goal. I leave Delhi on Friday and am heading for the mountains, I hope to have another entry up before then. So here’s the blog!

On September 5, Heather was hit with an awful tragedy. There is no way to lessen the blow so I will just spit it out. Her much loved fiancee Aaron, was sadly killed in a car crash. Heather has taken a journey here to India to complete some of the task Aaron dreamed of doing throughout his lifetime. I have been so lucky to have met her and I cannot express how Happy I am that she decided to come to India when she did. She has kept a blog about her journey of healing and has asked me to write an entry for it. So for this entry I would just like to submit what I put up for her blog and ask you all to pray for her and his family. She is such a strong amazing women so also smile because she is using this tragedy to do amazing things here in India. I hope you enjoy.

            I watched the sunrise through the window of an Indian train. The light shined through the cracked glass hitting her hair with the effect of mixing paint. The yellow sun smoothly merged into her golden hair as the train cruised across the various landscapes of the country the two of us have called home for the last three months. I smiled and grabbed my camera in an effort to capture the beauty. I knew Heather was ready to go home, but oh how well she fit the scene.

            Of course only Heather can say the real reason she traveled to India, but I have my thoughts. Seeing the tragedy that has happened to such a sweet girl and her loving family just leaves your mind numb. Your heart still beats, but it just seems to fail to connect to the reality that has consumed your thoughts.

            Heather first approached me in the Chicago International Airport. She greeted me with a warm smile and a friendly hello. We shared storied and I quickly got excited about my coming months with this interesting girl. Obviously the details of the reason of her uncommon journey didn’t instantly come out, but as weeks went on I slowly was allowed into more and more of her life.

            The break from the stresses of life along with a chance to get out seemed like the perfect prescription for a broken heart, but as we both experience the many shocks of this massive country together I couldn’t help but worry about how her healing process was going. Being surrounded by death and extreme poverty so far from home, now didn’t feel like the way out.

            Maybe Heather doesn’t want a way out, but I really doubt that. I think she come here partially as a goodbye gift for her love, who had dreams of what she has made a reality; but also partially to attempt to figure out something that people at her age don’t normally have to deal with. 

            Looking at Heather I like to think she has grown. She often expresses how excited she is to return to her family, but I know she will miss her Indian life and I know I will miss the huge role she has played in mine.

            So, In a week Heather will be back at home in the comforting arms of the ones who love her, but something will be different, her world will be bigger and her understanding of the confusion of life/death will be part of a much larger field. She will fly from one half of this world to the next, she will have seen different cultures and lives, but most importantly she will have seen the many lands and people that God created and watches over. Heather has seen more of what has been created to live on during this life. These are some of the things Aaron never got to fully experience, until now. Through the tragedy a smile can be seen rippling across the faces as if one has just gained understanding to a little part of life, like it was a riddle that has been racking their brain for quite some time. In a way, Aaron is the lucky one. I know he is following Heather step-by-step pushing her and being proud that she has endured on such an adventure, while at the same time he is looking down on God’s grand creation with the creator himself. I personally can’t think of a better way to experience India. It truly is the Grand tour.

March 17

            This hasn’t been the most comfortable few days in India. The weather is getting rapidly hotter, and I have a minor sickness that seems to be increasing as well. I have discovered that having a sore throat in the burning sun isn’t the most pleasant thing. Nonetheless, I tried to keep my spirits up as the marched through the streets towards my class, my mouth closed to avoid swallowing a handful of the millions of flies.

            When I arrived in the class, the students were waiting for me, all standing, peering out the door and down the street in an attempt to be the first to spot a tall foreigner. While I was taking my shoes off they begun to shout holding up clinch fist in front of their faces, “Sirji, fight!” This was one of the ways we wasted time before class. It was always either wrestling, handstands, a game, or playing doctor. Today was obviously wrestling day as they all charged at me in a manor that seemed to be a devised attack, needless to say it failed, and by the time ten o’clock came around I had sufficiently reconfirmed by position as “Sirji.”

            I was very excited for this day because we would be finishing taking the children’s family photos. I loved getting to see their parents and siblings and they were excited to see photos of themselves. So Gaurav and Sanjay were told that they would be driven home today by my driver and then we would get a photo with their family. The two become very excited for more reasons then just a photo. The two were getting the ride in a car, which they seemed to look at as a very rare treat; in fact it was so excited that Sharuk and Faruk came along just for the ride. It was also exciting for them because they didn’t have to walk to get home. I too was happy about this after seeing how far they really lived. I was so impressed by these two boys; both were always on time despite having by far the longest commute.

            Gaurav lead me up to his house and his brother called his mother. We got to the door and his grandmother invited me inside. The house was just a small room that had two small beds. We all sat down and they began to bring out water and snack for us. After attempting to decline several times we gave in and begun to eat as they watched over with satisfaction. When the mother and sister arrived we took the photos as the neighbors looked on in confusion and curiosity. By the time the photos were reviewed by the family and we were walking back to the car we had a small tail of people following us.

            I thought about Guarv jumping with excitement and leading me by the hand just over this simple photo and I became equally excited for the last photo I had to take, Rajkumar’s.

            I got to Rajkumar’s house where he was already waiting outside with his hands in his pockets wearing his signature rolled up sleeves. As soon as he saw me he rushed upstairs and then around the corner. Within seconds his father, mother, and two sisters were lined up for a photo. The photos were snapped and they all looked on in pure excitement. I said goodbye as I closed my camera thinking, “Wow, what joy this silly thing can bring.”

            I was having too much fun to stop. I went into the sewing class where Bonu was making tea for us. I told her I wanted to take a photo of her with her children and Friday was set as Bonu’s family photo.

            I am not an expert on teaching, India, Hindi, or English. I’m not even an expert on Photography, but it is so nice to know that I don’t have to be. Simply gathering these people together to prepare a gift for them has brightened their day. A quite popular phrase heard in the market place when a seller is about to agree with a buyer’s price is, “if your happy, I’m happy.” When it comes to the people of PappanKalan this phrase has never meant as much as it now means to me. 

Gaurav and Sanjay’s family

Rajkumar’s family

March 14

            Can you imagine being on a team with people you have never seen? It is a strange idea, but it happens. In fact we are all given great opportunities to join certain groups of strangers in an effort to make things better all the time.

            As I sat on the train home from Jaipur I heard the disturbing coughs of a young boy. I looked in front of me and there sat a seven-year-old child shivering and coughing. His eyes fluttered as he rolled in the discomfort of his sickness. His mother asked the train host for a blanket, but none were found.

            I instantly felt I wanted to help this poor child. I opened my bag in search of something, anything, just to ease this boy’s pain. The second I looked in my bag, I had just joined a team of people wanting to help this child.

            Symbolically, all I could find was a camera and this journal. As the child finally started to calm down and fall asleep in his mother’s arm, my mind shifted to the slums as I started to write. This child was just like the community I work in everyday. I come to work with my backpack filled with the things I think I will need for that particular day. Of course, offend this isn’t enough. I do was I can, giving my time and attention to these child. Then I go home and empty the contents of my bag. I review my photos and write in my journal. I put a collection of photos and writing, on this site for you all to join my journal

            This does help, but like the boy on the train, sometimes my bag is not equipped for the problems that are at hand. So though I can’t always help, I use my journal to write and spread the word of this communities needs.

            Far across the sea you sit at your computer and you are exposed to the boy on the train or the people of the slums. Then, luckily, some of you have decided to join this team of people wanting to help. You have come forward, using the resources that you have in your bag in an effort to help. Often just showing interest can help build a movement. So thank you so much, for joining this team and this adventure. You have come with your resources or just come along to show your support and that means the world to these people and to me.

            I continue to ask for your support. Please, spread the word, share this blog, send me messages, send me ideas, or even write a message for me to deliver to the teachers, children, or women’s class. In this case an open bag is an open heart.

Faruk, rajkumar, and Abdul demonstrating one of their many talents

            March 14

It’s sad that it wasn’t until now that I truly felt like an expert of the rail system. I woke up at four in the morning in order to get ready to leave for my final weekend trip. I would be spending all of Saturday and Sunday in the capital of Rajasthan, Jaipur. When I arrived at the train station I found my train and before I knew it I was off. I got in Jaipur to the normal horde of taxi drivers looking for hire. These kinds of crowds I hate, but Jaipur would make up for it by providing a good fill of the crowds I do enjoy.

I dropped my stuff off at the guest house and tried to catch a rickshaw to the Anokhi museum where Jaipur’s famous block printing was done. As I rode I was exposed to other things Jaipur is known for, camels and elephants. I saw camels pulling carts and elephants returning from a hard day of transportation to and from hilltop forts. I awed and stared when all the sudden the rickshaw stopped. I looked to my right and I was at the Central Museum. “No no! Anokhi museum not Central.”

“Not Central?” he said.

“No Anokhi.” It was then he got off and started searching for someone who knew the directions.

In the courtyard of the museum I saw a school of boys and girls in spotless white uniforms playing I decided to say a quick “hello” while I waited. I first shook a girl named Rema’s hand, but that is all I got to know about this girl. I looked around and I was surrounded by children out stretching their hands for a shake. They shouted out their names and then asked mine. “JAKE!” I has to shout.

“Jake?” the group replied.

“Yes, Jake!”

“Oh, very nice name.” many of the girls said.

I smiled and the loud conversation continued. I thought it was over when their teacher came to move the child, but after apologizing to the teacher and saying “bye” I was approached by another group of hands. It was a large family along with some older men from the area. I was so touched to see these elder men shoving their hands past shoulders just to smile and shake the hand of this random twenty year old. We talked about India and photos with the children were taken before my driver returned.

Jaipur is known as the Pink City and is located on old Mogul territory, so first thing Sunday morning I was greeted by my driver and driven through the sea of pink buildings towards the old Amber Fort. We passed the Water Palace, which is located on a man made lake and actually has floors under water despite the fact that it was built during Mogul rule.

When I arrived at the base of the fort I was put in a line. A line full of white foreigners, something I had never seen since I left the States. I was instantly reminded, by the scenes and people of a national park, such as Yosemite. I finally reached the front of the line and was put on top of an elephant that was to take me to the top of this hill where the fort was. Of course the journey was amazing, but the treatment of these beautiful creatures made me very uncomfortable. The day before I had taken a walk in a small part of town that housed some of the elephants. I was happy to actually see they were fed here, because they definitely weren’t at the fort. The fort was absolutely booked full with tourist and I could see why. It’s size and view almost made it impossible to leave. Luckily, the crowds and sun helped me say goodbye.

            When I left I drove through some villages to get to various museums and temples. I was blown away by the differences of each of these small villages. Anokhi was in a rural village filled with animals and people bathing in the dirt roads. It had a very Middle Eastern feel with its Muslim men and sand looking buildings. A five-minute drive from this small village was another that was the stereotypical Indian town. It housed elephants and the women all wore saris. The children ran to shake my hands after I had introduced myself to one little boy. The children here really did want to meet people they often just needed the ice broken for them. After that you will be fighting then off when you want to leave.

            Being a major tourist location I could tell a lot of people were really out to rip me off. I have never had to fight with so many drivers to get what I wanted. Though I have had a great time in Jaipur I am excited to return to Delhi where I can manage transportation easier.

The Window Palace

The Amber Fort

Amber Fort

The Water Palace

March 12

            Whenever you feel a change in your life, make sure you take a long look at yourself in the mirror. Yes, you’ll see the out of line hair, the chapped lip, or the unwanted wrinkle, but try to look past all that. Don’t only look at you, but also look at who you are. Notice your mother’s nose and your father’s eyes and how that has been passed down for centuries. Realize your change and know it’s been a long time in the making. Be proud of what is happening, but be aware that you are just the beginning. If you see the change to be positive, smile as you look into your eyes, knowing that you are setting up a better world.

            I know I’m not going to leave India carrying millions of poor children to their new paid for universities, far from it. When I leave children will still be starving, poor, and destine to generations of let down, but when I look in the mirror I can’t help but smile. I know I have tried and I have given these people at least a connection. It isn’t much, but sometimes memories are enough.

            These connections and memories build and I think about how much good they can do. My students could be the villagers fighting to send their daughters to school, because of a simple lesson they learned from an American back when they were thirteen years old. This could lead to generations of much needed growth that could change the overall community. This is the most amazing feeling a person’s heart can experience. The fact that I could essential be changing parts of India long after I’m gone, simply because of a few months I spent back in my youth. It is planting a tree so that our great great grandchildren can enjoy the shade.

            As I sat down for coffee I was given a short exit interview from Vidya based on my work. “Let me start of by saying thank you. You have been an amazing volunteer,” it started. “I only spent time with some great friends” I thought, “I don’t deserve such praise.” Flattered and in disbelief I tried to accept the “thank you.” The interview came to a close with the biggest compliment I could ever receive, “Please Jake, if you can and would like to, come back! You are welcome to stay for as long as you would like and we would be more then happy to help out with the finer details.” I blushed as I realized for the first time the impact just a person’s presents can have. I told them I would love to come back and that I would promise I would come back if I could be 100% sure it was possible. I also expressed my longing to go to other locations and I was shocked beyond belief yet again. “That’s great! You are such a valuable volunteer and your connection with people could be cherished wherever you decide to go.” The fact that Vidya didn’t care who I worked for, they just wanted me to do what I enjoyed doing really let me know I had chosen the right N.G.O.

            The interview ended and I was given a journal from a sister N.G.O. made by the people, out of recycled elephant dung. I smiled and left feeling better then ever.

            I came to India feeling as though I had the opportunity of a lifetime and now to think this is only the beginning has simply blown my mind. To feel welcomed anywhere is an amazing feeling, but to feel like family is a totally different thing, and here in India I feel like family.

March 10

We started to think of the students who could be eligible for such a thing, a scholarship to further their education in a private school. We didn’t have to say it, but we knew they had to be a girl. A girl who has worked hard and would be capable and willing to face the challenges. The challenge of fighting their parents to go to school, the challenge of people the girl from the slums, dealing with the sneers and let downs, a girl who was strong. As we mentally looked at the class they all fit, but we would have to start with one.

PappanKalan has thought about starting up a fund for scholarships to send students to private schools for sometime, but doing this takes some time. As the time rolls on the idea starts to become a reality. I have rattled my brains with possible ways to come up with funds for this, the upper level of the new school, and some other needed supplies. I have read up on common fundraising methods, but I have decided I want to do something a bit different. One idea I have had is to sell some of the photos I have taken of the children and the community. These photos could be any size and would be sold by donation. I don’t know how successful this idea will be, but let me know if you are interested. I would also like to speak about my experiences to try and get some donations. I don’t know how to set these types of things up nor do I know how many people would be interested in the idea. If anyone has any suggestions please contact me! Seeing that my first journey to India is coming to a close, I have been stressing out trying to figure ways to help this poor community out from back home. I also want to get better cameras for my class one. They love photo day and I thinking having cheap digitals might really help their learning, because after they take photos we could instantly review them as a class and only have the good ones printed. This is obviously a difficult task to get anyone to donate digital cameras to a slum in India, but they have really learned a lot through these photos. I urge anyone who might know someone who works for a camera company or something like that talk to them. This would really change these boys life. Again, I also urge anyone who could help or is interested in any of these options to contact me. Having a school is obviously extremely important, but getting some of these girls in private schools is also on the top of the list.

“Why go to a private school when there is government schools?” someone asked my when we were discussing this idea. The answer is sad, but simply- government schools in the slums are awful. Since the government set up free education there is no really competition. When a teacher is hired they are pretty much in that position for as long as they would like. So, because firing a teacher isn’t a normal thing in government schoolteachers never really have to teach. And a lot of times this is exactly what happens. In fact, it is said that at any given time at a government school only 50% of the teachers were present, while only 66% of the principals were present. The other 50% of teachers who are actually there often do nothing. They just sit as their students talk or just wait for an education. The only reason many children go is just for the lunch and uniform that is provided. Teachers and principals have taken this job so lightly that there has been cases of them making children watch their kids during class. Students have also been made to clean the school or their teachers’ house.

This is why even in the poorest neighborhood parents are fighting to get their kids in private schools. Private schools are there to make money so the elements of competition exist. Owners of these schools constantly have to check on their teachers and really think about whom they are hiring so that they can bring in the most students for a greater profit. Despite a lot of these schools being run out of someone’s house for a little over $1.50 a month, the children are getting a better education, simply because they are getting an education.

I just find it amazing that even in a country where 51% of children are malnourished people are still fighting to save every penny they have to send their children to the best school they can find. It really shows the people’s willingness to learn as well as the parent’s love for their children.

When I hear these girl’s dreams of going to a real school and that their parents said they could, but they can’t simply because of money, I can’t help but feel upset. These girls are intelligent and they really want to learn. It is unfair that they can’t have the opportunities to achieve such simply goals. This is why the scholarships for these women or any of the children would be such an amazing thing to start.

The reason these scholarships would focus on women is because of the following reasons- 1. When parents try to educate their children the girls will be the last ones they send to school, meaning they have a lesser chance at becoming educated in these areas 2. When a women gets an education and that gets here a job not only does that give her and income and power in her marriage, but it also give her a say in the community 3. And lastly, it creates a chain of education. Women not only offend become teachers in the community, but the also are the ones who are always at home with the children. When a woman can teach the children and help with their schooling obviously the child’s intelligence will continually grow.

Seeing that hundreds of children in PappanKalan are going without education it is obvious to see why they need this new school. And seeing how these women have the rights to, have the intelligence to, as well as the dreams to go to school, I hope you can see why getting them there is a must. Now, that I only have two more weeks left of working, I beg you guys to help make these dreams come true. Any ideas you have for when I return to help raise money let me know. Of course I can accept free donations, but I also would like to do things to thank you for donations as well as for following my journey. It really has meant a lot to me and what you do to help will really help the children. That is why I want to do things such as sell photos, give talks, have a dinner, anything really. So please send me an email with ideas or request.

glaserj@xu.edu

Abdul and I (photo- Rajkumar)

I checked my calendar today I realized I will be done teaching in three weeks. This means I have been with the same children everyday for over two months. Please excuse me for I have not properly introduced these fine young students. Each one of these children has made my journey in India amazing and I love them all. I would introduce you to both of my classes, but seeing as my younger class is comprised of some forty students, that could be a bit hard. So, without anymore stalling, here is the PappanKalan class one.

ABDUL

Abdul is definitely the smallest kid in the class. He is a energetic six year old who is noted for his strange sounds and ability to make anyone laugh. He stands out because of his loveable attitude but also because of how different he looks from the rest of his six siblings, three of which are also in the class. He nose is the first you would notice about him. It is curved up because of a fall he had when he was a baby. All these characteristics put together is what makes Abdul so memorable.

DEPAK

Depak is the obviously leader of the class. He reminds me of Rodriguez from Sand Lot. Always looking out for even the weakest members of the group. I was first exposed to this when he led me around the slum telling everyone to back off as they came close to shake my hand. He would yell at them then look up at me and say, “sirji, bad.” Depak’s protection is what first made me feel at home in India. You can tell his devotion to looking out for people goes deeper then cultural norm when he tells you how he wants to be a soldier when you grows up. Not only would Depak be a great soldier because he always puts people’s safety first but, also because of how worldly he is. He loves studying the countries of the world and says he would love to travel to Canada, while his favorite food is pasta.

SANJAY

What first stood out to me about Sanjay was his ragged necklace. He was a shyer kid, but when he finally opened up he let me know that the first thing he noticed about me was my necklace. One day without saying a word he climbed on my lap and pulled the silver out from underneath my shirt exploring what dangled on the end of the chain. We compared and became friends right then. Sanjay is a very handsome young boy whose intelligence is sure to take him places if he can get the resources. Along with school he also enjoys playing football. Everyone loves Sanjay and you can tell he enjoys being the quiet one.

NERRAJ

Neeraj lives quite far away and having no mode of transportation makes it quite hard for him to make it to school. Nonetheless everyone knows when he is in class. He is another quiet yet loved one. He is one of the smartest students and has better handwriting then any guy I know. He dreams of being a pilot and traveling to the U.S.A. “To visit me” I smiled. To my surprise he nodded his head, “Yes, Sirji” he smiled back. Neeraj also enjoys playing cricket and can produce a mean goat sound. Neeraj seems to be good at whatever he tries so I’m sure if he has the opportunity he would be great at his dream occupation.

PRADEEP

Pradeep is the big man of the group. This thirteen-year-old boy is very tall for his age, but is also one of the gentlest students I have. He constantly looks after the younger students and uses his height to entertain his classmates by picking them high in the air. He is a hard worker and is always looking for ways to help. When I was in Pappankalan over the weekend painting he was always right behind me asking what he could do to assist me. He loves cricket and says he wants to become a professional cricket player when he grows up. He is also very into his studies and I know he will go far with such a positive attitude.

GAURAV

Along with everybody’s’ “good mornings” I receive when I first walk in, I also get a very special treat from Gaurav. Everyday Gaurav runs up to me and gives me a giant hug pressing his head hard into my stomach. “Welcome, Sirji” he greets me with a smile. This is often my favorite part of the day and for acts such as these I have recognized Gaurav as the loving, affectionate member of the bunch. He constantly has a smile on his face and his laugh is impossible to ignore. He loves learning about the world and dreams of traveling to South Africa. Gaurav’s hugs are something I know I will miss dearly.

RAJKUMAR

Even at only eight years old Rajkumar is still one of the most mature students in the class. Rajkumar seems to really enjoy his life and the class as he runs around flashing his missing tooth through a huge smile. While walking through the streets of PappanKalan you can often find him hanging out with his best friend Abdul or taking a bath. Rajkumar seems to love getting and staying clean. He says he would love to travel to Canada and he dreams of being a policeman. He is a very fast runner and enjoys playing cricket. He is also a very bright student who could easily go far if given the opportunity.

FARUK

Faruk is one of the middle brothers in my class and he looks almost identical to his older brother Sharuk. All his brothers are at the top of the class and he is right up there with them, often actually above. Also like his brothers he has an amazing smile. He is very creative and loves arts and crafts. He gets along great with his brothers and you can tell he really looks up to them. He is usually the first one into class and has yet to miss a day while I have been there. This very animated boy is definitely a key player in the success of this class.

SALMAN

Salman is the oldest of the brothers in the class. He comes to class everyday he can, but it is hard for him to often because he works with his dad. His father has a job cleaning and fixing motorbikes and he has thirteen-year-old Salman working on the bikes during school hours. This isn’t uncommon here in India, so I am happy that Salman comes to class as much as he can. He likes learning, but you can tell what he really enjoys is spending time with his younger brothers. He is a smart kid, but it is obvious he is behind his brothers because he has had to work because of his age and the lack of availability of classes in this neighborhood. He definitely is catching up though, which is a really great thing to see.

SHARUK

“Sharuk the astronaut, I like the sound of that” I said smiling up at him from the floor as he informed me about his dream job. This twelve-year-old boy is very worldly with his dreams of traveling in Egypt and is also the glue that holds these four brothers together. He is always on everyone’s best side and the other classmates come to him for a talk or a laugh quite often. He is definitely a people person who loves to express himself. You can often find Sharuk on music days moving like a snake to the tunes. He says that dancing is his favorite thing to do and I don’t think anyone would disagree with this. He is an artist who loves to do things for others. The other day after our project was finished for the day he used the scrap paper to cut out two small hearts to give to me as a gift. I was so touched by the gift and I continue to be touched by Sharuk’s hard work and big heart.

SUSHIL

Sushil also loves to dance and can often be found doing so with Sharuk. Also, like Sharuk, he dreams of traveling to Egypt. The twos similarities aren’t that surprising when you see the two in action together. They are definitely great friends. Sushil is always wearing colorful clothes and he really enjoys learning about Africa. He is one of the better photographers in the group, so you can tell he really looks forward to Thursdays when we all go out and take photos. Though he is only eleven he looks forward to becoming a pilot when he’s an adult. Sushil is really good at comprehending things and memorizing facts. I know his intelligence will serve him well in the very near future.

SONIA

Like Salman Sonia comes when she can. She is one of the daughters of Bonu, the lady who makes us tea. Bonu’s husband died earlier this year so she is stuck raising he six children in a small shed all by her self. To try and help out we have agreed to take in Sonia whenever she needs a place to go. We have really enjoyed having her in the class and I hope she has enjoyed being in the class. Just like her mother you can read everything she is thinking through her facial expression. She is constantly smiling, winking, sticking her tongue out, or just hiding her face in an effort to disguise any visible thoughts. She is the daughter of an amazing women and Sonia is definitely following close in her mother’s footsteps.