It's been a while since I've posted, partially because I took a trip with my class for two days to Aurangabad (pronounced "Uh-wrong-uh-bad") to see some awesome caves and an old Muslim fort, and partially because my laptop short-circuited when I plugged it into a faulty electric outlet and it now refuses to turn on. I talked to CRHP's computer whiz to get his prognosis... he's optimistic, but some pricey repairs are definitely on the horizon. Anyway, the lesson learned here is a lesson I've been learning since I got here-- that is, there are a lot of things you get used to trusting in the United States that you can't trust when you're in India. For example, you can't trust that food or water from a friendly person won't make you violently sick. You also can't be sure that a store owner isn't trying to rip you off because you're an American. And now I know that you can't trust just any electrical outlet to give you electricity without frying your computer. Anyway, that's all the negativity you'll get for the rest of this post. I really do love this place and these people. I know they (and their government) just don't have the resources to correct all of these problems. Anyway, that's enough. On to the trip.
We got up bright and early Saturday morning to board the buses to Aurangabad. Because I don't have an alarm clock, I forced myself awake several times during the night so I wouldn't miss the trip, and as a result experienced some major sleep deprivation the next day. Fortunately, I thought, I'd be able to get some some sleep during the four hour drive. Unfortunately, I was not taking into account the very potent anti-sleep combo of potholes, traffic jams and being crammed into a very small space which is basically what the drive ended up being. The rental cars we drove were like limousines--the back seat had rows of seats facing each other along the sides of the car--except with about 2/3 less leg room. I'll post a picture soon so you can see the 6 of us sitting in the back of one of the cars--our legs staggered with the people across from us so we'd have room. All things considered though, I'm glad I got to sit in the back because I got to know five people really really well.
A lunch stop, a few car-sick stops, and five hours later, we arrived at the Aurangabad caves. We only saw 2 of the 20ish caves there, but the two we saw were spectacular. The first was the largest monolithic (one solid piece of rock) carving in the world. It's a temple that Hindus, Muslims and Jainists cut out of the side of a mountain from 600-800 AD. Our tour guide showed us most of the shrines and statues inside and told us the legends and mythology behind several of the gods and godesses etched into the walls. Being tourists, we took lots of pictures, and being american, lots of people wanted pictures with us. Also, by some stroke of luck I ran into a guy with a BYU sweatshirt on! He was muslim, didn't speak english, and had no idea what byu is, but I got a picture with him, and I've posted it here for you. The description I've given doesn't do much justice to how cool these caves are, so I'll post a few pictures that I hope will.
After the caves, we headed to a castle-looking "fort" that was built and controlled by Muslims up to the late 800's AD. Our very animated tour guide explained that this fort was never taken by force because of it's strategic design, complete with thick, sheer walls, secret passage ways and dark caves with guano-loaded bats. Seriously, the smell would have made Atilla the Hun think twice. Our tour guide led us through all of these and up to the highest turret, but not to the top of the fort which was, we counted, about 700 stairs up. Five of us decided we wanted to go beyond where any conquering army ever did and by reaching the top. When we got there, we were the only ones around, with the exception of a few employees. I've posted some pictures below. And a video if I can get it to work. Afterward, we practically ran down the mountain, crammed back into the cars and drove to a hotel that had been arranged for us.
The hotel owner was very charismatic and kind, probably because there aren't a lot of Americans around this time of year. Really quick, about that. Supposedly this is the "dry-season" in India for tourism because it's "so hot" and muggy. Honestly though, there have been one or two days in the last two weeks when the weather was relatively uncomfortable (but definitely not unbearable) and the rest has been beautiful. So, if you're thinking of traveling to India, beat the crowds (you get to pack lighter clothes too) and come during the summer. Everything is cheaper this time of year too. Anyway, the hotel owner took us into a nice dining room in the back where he'd set up a buffet of traditional Indian food (not all that different from what we eat here). It was sad though, he made a huge platter of fresh chopped vegetables for us, but because it's been drilled into us to not eat any fruits or vegetables that we haven't washed in clean water ourselves, no one touched the platter. After everyone went through the line, he carried the platter from table to table trying to get at least one person to eat a cucumber or something. To no avail. No one here likes vegetables enough to spend three days in bed with an IV and half-hourly trips to the toilet. After dinner,we played some cards, watched some of the world cup and went to bed. Mason was my roommate, and we got into a good discussion about some of our thoughts on the bible. He's a really spiritual guy, and I've learned a lot from him about what it means to be sincere with people and with God.
We were up early for breakfast and stopped at "the silk factory" on the way home for the women to do some shopping. Actually we men shopped too, but I think most of our purchases were really for women anyway. We got to watch a young weaver working at a silk spinning machine, which produced about 2.5 meters of woven silk per day. It's a hand operated and fast moving process. We got back on the road and made the journey home. Again, we had some really great conversations with our close-quartered seating and got to know each other well. Good times.
Fast forward to Monday night--last night. Instead of a normal dinner, our (very thoughtful) chefs and program directors arranged for a 4th of July celebration which were inaugurated with the singing of the American and Canadian national anthems, so as to not leave anyone out. Actually we have a girl here from England, which, as you might imagine, could make celebrating the United States' independence from its mother country a sort of awkward celebration, but she was a good sport and joined in. Dinner was hamburgers (veggie burgers for Indians in the group), french fries, and the usual indian cuisine. When things were wrapping up, Dr. Shobha informed us that her father, the founder of CRHP, had bought us a cake from a local bakery to celebrate our being here which we demolished. As a beautiful finale to the evening, CRHP arranged for a fireworks show that, in my opinion, puts American fireworks shows to shame. I guess rural Indians really know how to celebrate the 4th. I wonder what the villagers thought. I mean, what would go through your mind if you'd grown up hundreds of miles from modern society never having seen fireworks (or street lights for that matter) and suddenly you're jolted out of sleep by a deafening boom and your sky is bursting with bright colors? Guaranteed I'd think it was the second coming. Anyway, it was wonderful for us. Felt a little like home.
I am learning that the people here are very hospitable--from the villagers to our program directors. Whenever we go on village visits, they invite us into their homes, tell us about their families, and talk about what they're doing to earn money. They are very proud of what they have, even if it's not much. I talked with another girl here about this. She said that she'd worked with young girls living on welfare in Arkansas and learned that most of them were more or less content with living the rest of their lives on the government's tab. None of them felt much satisfaction with their lives, and none of them wanted to talk much about their home lives, but they relished getting weekly checks for doing nothing. So how, we wondered, can these poor Indian people feel proud enough to invite 20 Americans, whom they know come from wealthy homes, to come inside and see theirs? It goes to show, we think, that hard work goes a long way. People who work hard to make a living and know they're doing their best feel much more at peace and satisfied with their lives than people who don't, regardless of socioeconomic status. It's even more amazing to me that these humble Indian people exert themselves day in and day out in a region/country where efficacy (when your efforts get you somewhere) is not always a sure thing. It's really inspiring to see.
So I left dinner a little early to video chat via skype with my family. For some reason, we couldn't get the video camera to work here, so I could see my family on my screen, while they could only hear me. I, of course, took full advantage of this. After we'd been talking for a while and I knew my parents had forgotten that I could see them, I told them that being at CRHP has led me to decide that I'm going to spend the rest of my life living in rural India working for CRHP. Let me tell you, you have never seen eyebrows raise like I did then. I had a good laugh. Anyway, I'm all caught up with blogging. I'll check in again soon. Love, bryce
**Yes, yes, I know there are no pictures yet. I need to borrow somebody's camera-computer connection cord to do it. I will ASAP and put them on. Thanks for reading :)**
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