Roadside jobs...grooming

One of the things that I enjoy about India is realizing just how little it takes to be an entrepreneur. Really, these people could teach anyone interested in owning their own business a bit about how little you actually need to start up your own shop. For some all it takes is a bit of sidewalk space, a tall chair, a mirror to wire onto fence and a straight edge razor. Voila, you're ready to set up your own barber shop. You'd be surprised at how many of these little "shops" I pass on my drive to school. And yet there always seems to be a man settling in for a shave and/or a cut. 

Roadside barber in Delhi

Or perhaps you don't want to be that tied down? You'd rather be able to take your job on the go? Perhaps you should take a page from this man's book and becoming a roaming ear cleaner. Everything you need will fit into a lunch box sized carrier, well, with some cotton stuffed behind your ears. There is a lighter, q-tips, cleaner and scissors (some people have looooong ear hair) inside. No chair provided, but the side of the road often has rocks when people can sit down. What other types of grooming jobs do you think could be developed for the roadside? 

Ear cleaner in Rishikesh, photo from Shannon V.

Jain statues

While we were out searching for the zero, we drove by another amazing sight which gains very little attention anywhere. Cut into the hill side on either side of the single lane road that winds up to Gwalior fort are a slew of giant Jain statues. Our guide mentioned that these sculptures are similar to those that got bombed and ruined in Afghanistan. Time for me to do some more research...

Jain statues are recognizably different from statues of Buddha despite often being carved in the same form as they are typically nude. A few of these seemed to be sporting stone loincloths. These sculptures are thought to have been carved between 1441 and 1474. These statues which are up to 57 feet high represent the 24 Tirthankaras in the Jain faith. That is the role models for spiritual guidance, sort of their version of saints.

I'm not really sure that my research gave me much more information, it is surprisingly difficult to find definitive information about these statues. The only thing I am sure of is that they were a surprise well worth getting out of the car for!

In search of the world's oldest zero

We piled out of four cars, sixteen of us in white shirts painted with large zeroes on the front. We were on pilgrimage to see the world's oldest zero. That is the earliest known written record of a zero. Our guide asked us to wait in the shade of the gate of Gwalior's Fort, as he went in search of the one person who had the key that could unlock this wonder for our eyes. After a long enough wait to attract the attention of two groups of Indian tourists as well as all of the children trying to sell postcards and water he reappeared. Then led us down the slope of the cobblestone path which one would normally say led up to the fort. Except it was clear we weren't headed to the fort as its walls begin to loom over us, seemingly standing taller after every twist. As we approached the third turn he asked a few men to give up their seat on a small flight of crumbling stairs so that we might go up to a small temple nestled against the side of the wall. It is rather unassuming with nothing to mark it as such a historical spot; I suspect very few people who go to Gwalior fort ever make it here (in fact our guide said he had never been inside the temple before). The magical keys came out and the man from the fort struggled to open the rusted gate enough that we could slip inside. There, on the wall to the left of the altar, among the inscription about the gift of a garden some wealthy Indian made to the temple, up towards the top left corner are the numbers 270, most importantly the oldest known record of a written zero. Supposedly there is another zero in the inscription, a bit farther down next to something like a fish hook, but it is not as clearly identifiable, and being lower down can't claim to be the oldest. I have to admit, I made two trips into the temple (after all, only three people could fit in at a time), the first time I was so excited to see the zero I didn't think to try to take a picture with it, can't go passing up that opportunity! After all how often do you get a chance to do a bit of math tourism?

Access to Education

A few weeks ago I received this email, sent out to all of the faculty at our school:

Dear AES Community, You may recall hearing from me last fall, when we held our other “Big Event” for the part of ReachOut we call “Access to Education.” At that time, each year, we have the School Uniforms Drive; and each spring we have the School Supplies Drive…As always, we need your help! For those of you who don’t know, “a proper Uniform and basic  School Supplies” are the simple requirements necessary for admission into the Delhi state school system. We are now in our 23^rd year of helping our Vivekanand neighbors meet this need. The value of Education is now fully embraced by the colony, with 100% of their children attending school…(and Zero percent engaging in begging or street performing)! So, please try to come to the Main gym, at 9:00 this Sunday morning (sorry, the Gym is not available anytime Saturday!). We will be sorting and loading a record number of backpacks (483!). After a 45-60 minute break, we will distribute the backpacks to the students of Vivekanand, at around 12:30. We won’t need as much help for distribution, but I encourage all who can to at least stop by to view (and photograph?) the milling Colony children outside of Gate 5, or those who come inside—12 at a time—to receive their backpacks. This year, Colony families are paying part of the cost of Uniforms and School Supplies, and will pay more each year, until we are only helping a few families who truly cannot pay. This is exiting and important. The colony has a much improved economy, as Education has improved their lives and Incomes! Therefore, outside help is becoming less and less necessary. This event is a culmination of the efforts of many over the years. We continue to benefit from the ongoing substantial financial support of our generous PSA, and others. Gagan (Middle School Tech and teacher), Ram (a resident of Vivekanand, and now working in our main Tech dept.), Cheryl and I look forward to seeing  you this Sunday morning and/or afternoon. Come celebrate with us. Thanks from the “Access2Ed” Team,Jeff

One of the assumptions I had made coming to India is that I would be involved in more community service, how could you not be? Sadly that turned out to not be the case for me. True there are plenty of opportunities to support our students in their activities, but thanks to other obligations on my part I wasn't able to make a long term commitment in this arena. This, then, seemed like a way I could do something small to help support one of the long term successful programs our school engages in. I showed up at 9 and it took us just over an hour to unwrap and pack over 400 backpacks for the students that live in the colony across the street from the school. Thanks to the weather heating up we decided to distribute the bags early, and Ram took care of letting the families know that we would start early.

By the time we returned from a short break they were lined up outside the gate (lined up! one of the volunteers who has been involved with this for years said it was shockingly quiet and calm with very little pushing this year, perhaps they've realized we'll make sure every student gets his bag of supplies and there is no need to push and shove to be first.) Children were let in ten at a time. One group headed directly to they gym where their cards were checked to make sure they had met the attendance requirement we have in place (we'll provide supplies as long as they are actually attending school at least 75% of the time), another group sat on benches in the hallway, a third group sat on the sidewalk outside, the last group hung on the gate in the entryway waiting their turn to enter while a line stretched around the corner outside the gates. It was so great to see them excited to pick up their materials. The littlest accompanied by siblings, their eyes bright at the thought they would be going to school this year. Those in elementary and middle school excited to show us their papers saying they were ready to  move on to another class. The high schoolers I passed bags out to were to cool to seem eager, but when I spoke with them, particularly those who were starting their last two years, you could see the pride in their eyes. Pride in the fact that they were going to make it through school as their parent's hadn't.

I walked away humbled by how much the chance for an education means to these children. Pleased that there are people at my school who care enough to make sure that all of the children around us has that opportunity.

Learning to dress

I received an invitation to an event this weekend that called for formal or Indian dress. I thought it would be a perfect excuse to finally wear the sari that I had bought at the beginning of the year and has been laying folded in my closet since then. But how? How was I to get this three meters of fabric wrapped around my body? Wrapped so that it would not fall off, and would look *something* like what it is supposed to (I suppose perfect it too much to ask of a foreigner!). Luckily my maid Mrs. Kaur was at my house Saturday morning. I asked her to help me learn what I was doing. Thirty minutes later I was laughing in amusement, but fairly sure that I would be able to wrap myself up reasonably well that evening. To begin with she had me put on the petticoat, an integral part of the outfit as it actually holds the entire thing up, tucking the first round into the waistline, tugging all over to get it to hang straight, just barely brushing the floor. A lot more adjustment, some discussion as to how I wanted the end to drape, and she continued to even things out. Working from both sides she gathered the excess material in the front, carefully folding seven pleats into the fabric then tucking those into the front. With four adjustments to the folds over my shoulder I was starting to wonder how in the world I would ever get it put back on four hours later. Luckily she had a plan. A couple of safety pins held both sets of pleats in place, an extra one lower down would keep them from falling out until I was dressed later. Then it all came off and I tried to replicate the look. The first attempt wasn't so good! I got a couple of reminders and took it back off to try again. We didn't stop until I passed Mrs. Kaur's inspection. I'm sure it wasn't perfect, but she decided it would be good enough. Then she reminded me to add a few safety pins in key spots to hold everything in place and let me take it all off. I guess she tutored me well and I got several compliments from the Indian women at our event, goodness knows I couldn't have done it without her! I can't say a sari would ever become my daily outfit, but I did feel very elegant in it, even if it was a bit like playing dress up.

Morning view

A knock on my door at 5:15 woke me from an uneasy slumber on a wooden pallet. As I contemplated the reason for the early wake up I knew I was going to have to give up my warm cocoon for the frigid air. I quickly tumbled out, added another three layers to what I was already wearing, tugged a cap over my head, slipped on my mittens and grabbed my camera. As I stepped outside, despite the wind whipping by, I breathed a small sigh of relief. The sky was clear so we should get good views with the sunrise. I clambered up on a rock, trying to position myself for a good view (and photos without other heads in them). There was just a hint of pink on the tip of Kanchenjunga as the sun began its slow rise. Click, click. It seemed every minute I was taking another photo as the light spread a bit wider highlighting more of the range. Now you can see the upper outline they call the sleeping Buddha. Click. Light has reached the lower peaks. A glimpse off to the east and the sun is starting to appear over the pine trees. Duoa, our guide, directs my attention to the west. As I slide down the rock a bit to get around a tree in my sight, I snatch my first glimpse of Mt. Everest. Proudly poking above the clouds, the sun is just now starting to lighten its face. I can't believe how big it is. A mountain above mountains. Yeah, yeah, you know its the tallest mountain in the world, but until that moment I didn't realize just what that meant. The idea that people actually climb to the top flabbergasts me. It seems to remote, so up there, that I can't quite believe that even at this moment there may be a group of climbers pushing to summit. For me, the view from this point is good enough. Well almost. I go clambering down and walk as fast as I can to the upper hill of this camping town, looking for that one spot that will give me an unspoiled view of both Kanchenjunga and Everest. A view that doesn't have trees marring the way. A view that I will hold in my head as we walk all the way back down to road. 

Hiking in India

I had a hard time deciding what to do this spring break. Did I want to stay in India or travel elsewhere? Was there anyone going someplace I was interested in? (The answer to that one ended up being no) In the end I found a group that was organizing a trek along the Singalila Ridge in West Bengal, India along the borders with Nepal and the state of Sikkim. That is about all I knew, but decided that since I liked spending time outside in clean air it would be interesting to do the five day hike. 

What did I get myself into? The first three days we were hiking mostly uphill on rough rock paved roads. Little did I know we would spend half of a day in Nepal.  Crossing a border where it seemed only India cared, forcing us to sign out on a paper register but not marking a thing on my passport. I know I left India, but I'm not sure when I actually entered Nepal as they didn't seem nearly as concerned about record keeping (of course India only cared about the two foreigners in our group).

Each afternoon we pulled up at a tea house where lunch was being fixed. Of course that wasn't our first stop of the day. Usually we stopped at least once for a break to drink a cup of tea, either black or with milk. At one of the tea houses our guide got us a glass of the local rhododendron wine (made from the red flowers not the white) which is a local medicine for just about everything. At another the guys had fun getting the chickens to snatch crackers out of their hands. One day the entertainment was getting the goats to look the honey off their finger. At still another I couldn't resist taking pictures of the kids sitting at the side of the house. 

After three days of climbing up we were at the highest point of our trek, Sandahkphu, where if the weather was in our favor we had been told we would be able to see the Himalayan Range, including Mt. Everest and Kanchenjunga. Well luck was with us and the next morning we got to see the world's highest and third highest mountain (but more on that later). 

The last two days we went mostly downhill, and I have to say that the fourth day was by far the most difficult. When you go down in the Himalayas, you really go down. Down through a forest of bamboo, fire burned remnants and rock paths. Down until you reach the flowering slopes of the small village of Ghum. A restful oasis where we spent the night. It was a good thing we only had a couple more hours to go the next day before climbing into a car to head back to Darjeeling as I was so sore I could hardly take a step down the next three days. As we rolled up to our hotel I have to admit I felt a mixture of relief, success along with the thrill of knowing a hot shower was just minutes away.

For not having much of an idea what I was getting myself into I ended with a pretty spectacular Spring Break that took me from 2200 meters up to 3636 meters, from mountain fields through forest to bare top views of snow capped mountains. The Singalila Ridge trek was definitely an adventure.