Bangladesh recap

Bangladesh: just what the doctor ordered.

Chai and conversations

Saalam Aleikum, madam. Chai? (Hello, madam. Chai?)

Aleikum saalam. Haanji, babu. Dhonnawad. (Returns greetings. Yes, babu. thank you).

What is it about this brown milky stuff that brings so much joy to my little heart? Currently sipping a tiny cup (why..oh..why are the cups so small here?), listening to my favourite desi music, the honking of cars outside and the newspaper-wallah calling out his wares. And reflecting on the past few days of my time in Bangladesh. Wish I could show you pictorially what I've seen and experienced - but alas left my camera cord back in Washington, DC - so pictures will have wait.

The purpose of my visit was to co-facilitate a workshop to design a maternal and child health program in one of the poorest and cyclone-prone parts of Bangladesh. The workshop itself went well. Was super nervous about it (especially since i hate speaking publicly). But I've learnt a lot. What to do better next time.

Our teams here are amazing, I have to say. Our staff-members who do the bulk of the work that we in the US write up/theorize/politicize about have to get all the credit for the success of anything my organization does. Every time I visit the 'field', I am always blessed to meet some of the most down-to-earth hard-working people. With little to no sense of 'self-importance', they go about their daily lives in the bustling chaos that is Bangladesh. Such a refreshing break from Washington, DC!!

Anyways, it's been busy time. Between the hotel and the office and the hotel in preparing/leading the workshop, I haven't had much time to do much outside. But drink chai and converse with our staff to learn about Bideshi life. (insert content smile)

Here's some things I've learnt:

History of Bangladesh: I did some reading on the plane ride here to learn a bit about this country that earned its independence from Pakistan (yes, Pakistan owned this bit of the land from across India) in 1972. Lots of turmoil and restructuring has taken place since. But the spirit of the Bideshi people isn't broken.

Floods/cyclones: the country gets an annual spot in world headlines with all the natural calamities it faces. From yearly flooding via rivers from the Himalayas, and the cyclones from the Bay of Bengal to the shifting land masses whenever the flood-waters recedes. When I sympathized, 'wow - this must be difficult to face on a yearly basis', I was reminded of the positive spirit. 'No, madam. The annual flooding is a gift, otherwise without the rich silt-filled soil, how would we sustain our agricultural production?' (this coming from a man who'd lost his home in floods)

Migration: My flight from Dubai to Dhaka was one full of education for me! The flight was 98% full of casual laborers from the UAE. I was asked to assist in filling the arrival forms as they were not english-literate. Via faltering sentences (they spoke Bangla and I spoke Hindi), they explained to me, how without the benefit of natural resources, and a burgeoning population, they leave their wives and children to go find work with Chinese companies in the Middle East. 'And madam, we are the fortunate ones. Most Bideshi people in rural areas don't have that opportunity'. Becoming a rickshaw-wallah or a casual construction worker in Dhaka or Chittagong (the two largest cities) is often the next best option. As I turned the pages of countless passports, filled arrival forms for these men and asked questions about goods for the customs form, I couldn't help but notice the looks and sounds of joy as they all talked about the 'goods' they were bringing for their families and excitement at going home.

All in all, this country has captured a small piece of my heart. People are kind. They work hard. In the face of so much hustle and bustle, there's always a smile and an open heart. Such a great reminder to count my blessings. We who have much will be accountable for much.

Back on the Indian sub-continent!

Feb 5th 2010 - I left India. Feb 5th 2012 - I landed in Bangladesh. Two years is a considerable amount of time, some might say. But really it feels like yesterday.

The honking of horns. The dodging of traffic. The being woken up by the call of prayers at a nearby mosque. The countless cups of chai delivered to my desk. The are-you-married-madam-questions. Really - it feels like yesterday.

The trip to Bangladesh is very different from my trip to India two years ago. I was much younger. Much more willing to take risks. Much more scared about life and all it's uncertainties. Can't say I've grown up a ton - still a kid at heart. But things are different, for sure.

For one - I'm not fresh out of grad school at my first real-international-development job. Secondly, I'm not uprooting my whole life to move overseas - a short 2-week stint - while still nerve-racking for the accompanying deliverables - is much more doable.

Anyways - enough of the reflective-mood-type post. Below are some memorable moments during my trip and first 24 hours in Bangladesh:

• Extremely jet-lag after the first leg of flight led to my settling down into a comfy chair and falling into intermittent bouts of deep sleep while on my layover in Dubai. At one point, I dreamt that I missed my flight and had to call my friend D to come get me. Was a weird dream of half being in Mombasa with people we both know, and half being lost in the desert. Woke up just in time to see last group of people boarding. Talk about 'aiy yai yai'.
• Day 1 breakfast conversation at my hotel with server: "good morning madam". [insert small talk with server] [insert..time taken to eat breakfast] [insert time taken to walk back up to room] [insert skype conversation with family] [insert time taken to get ready for first day at work in a new country] [insert phone ringing]. "good morning, madam. I hope I not disturbing you. I vas calling because you are nice person. I am on night duty, madam. I will not be seeing you maybe so I wanted to tell you that you are nice woman] [insert awkward silence]. (thought in Devina's head: 'Is he hitting on me? the ONE man that i chose to make eye-contact with and talk to') [nervous laughter] [continued awkward silence..]. The end.
• The most interesting conversation with ex-military person whose served in the Bangladeshi army in Ethiopia, Uganda and Mozambique. Conversations and chai. Stuff that life is made of. :)
• The realization that I'm not in India: there are no COWS walking on the streets in Dhaka! Man, I miss those four-legged creatures taking up valuable road space.

More later. The adventures continue. Off to my biryani dinner. :)

If I could change the world..

Every day humanitarian aid workers help millions of people around the world. The day recognizes the sacrifices and contributions of those who risk their lives to give others help and hope. It is also about inspiring the spirit of aid work in everyone.

Love is really what it's about. Showing love in tangible ways to the most vulnerable and marginalized amongst us is not easy. It requires sacrifice and getting outside our comfort zone. It can mean being misunderstood and disenfranchised. But that which we do for the least is also what we do for God.

To all the incredible people I've had the pleasure of meeting since starting on this journey, happy humanitarian day! I am blessed by the efforts of my team-mates, colleagues and former classmates and friends. May we never forget what a privilege it is to live this life as we do.

10 years. 10 homes.

Boy, do I relate to this!

Family Planning Saves lives!

A year later..still thankful..

Things haven't changed much..I'm still thankful for the same things and then some!

See my post from a year ago when I was living in India:

Things I'm thankful for..

Ushahidi!

Ushahidi means Testimony in Kiswahili. I'll let the video speak for itself.

What is the Ushahidi Platform? from Ushahidi on Vimeo.

Oye!!! Merry Christmas!

Since I missed out on the holiday season this past year...

a friend saw it fit to send me the above video! It's now stuck in my head..and I see it fit to share the love! Enjoy!! :)

Back home!

'Welcome to the United States of America'.

Something about these words at the immigration post on Newark International Airport on a cold dreary wintery Saturday morning had a soothing comforting ring to them. I was back. After a short stint working for an NGO in India, I was back.

I could write much to reflect on the past year - could fill tomes on the experiences, the work, the sheer joys of helping people, utmost periods of loneliness away from family and friends, the beautiful places that I saw, the delicious food that I ate, the many conversations that I had with the wonderful people I met, and the sheer diversity that is India. Great life experience - as a friend recently told me. I wouldn't trade it for a second!

But for now, I'm glad to be back home.

Yes, I said home. America has strangely become home in the short time that I was gone. Kenya will always remain home - place of my birth, and India will always remain the country of my roots, but America is now my home. And I'm glad to be home..where those that I call my own live.

To give or not to give

I landed in India in late August. Almost immediately...all five senses were tantalized. From the plethora of food options that teased my taste-buds, to the smells and sounds (talk about the ubiquitous honking of cars!) And the sights! India is a beautiful country...with mass disorganization and chaos, but with raw beauty and warm people. To say that India is capable of bringing out every single emotion out of you is an understatement.

One of the sights that has haunted me since I landed in this wonderful country is the sight of children begging. I took the picture above many moons ago.

I cannot reconcile proximity that stark poverty has to ultimate opulence. To see people living in shanties on the sides of roads in Mumbai and the sight of little ones with tattered rags in New Delhi doing little tricks in the hopes of procuring a few rupees simply breaks my heart. And right next to the largest slums in Asia are high-rise apartment buildings with every single amenity that money can buy. I had read that the divide between the rich and the poor is great here – but to see it in actual terms is quite disconcerting.

And mentally – I still haven’t reconciled what to do when a child comes up to me to beg for money. What is the best thing for that child – to give or not.

Does giving away money serve as a temporary solution akin to a bandaid over a leaky faucet? Or does it serve an immediate need to feed an empty stomach? Or does it simply sooth our conscience that our daily quota for a ‘good-deed’ was met?

Growing up in Kenya, even as a teenager, I used to pack simple sandwiches whenever I went out to give away to anyone that came up to me to beg for money. It was so deeply ingrained in me that money could be potentially used for things other than basic survival tools (such as drugs, etc), that food was the best option to give.

Extreme poverty is such a complex issue and tackling it from any one angle requires much thought. Do the said-beggars in places like India and Kenya even have a choice to do something other than begging? Or is structural violence so deeply entrenched that a vicious cycle of poverty and lack of access to basic needs such as food, clean water, and education do not facilitate ability to do anything else but beg?

I think of donor agencies who give development assistance to resource-poor countries in various forms – food aid, technical assistance and expertise, hard money, etc. How is that different from a single person giving a few rupees or shillings to a single child? Therefore the ultimate question, does giving serve to encourage a culture of begging and dilapidate a person so much that they feel they do not have a choice but to ask for help? Or does it truly help to meet some basic needs?

Having been here five months – I am still nowhere close to the answers. As I continue to work as global health professional in India and beyond, my ultimate aim is not only to set up new projects, but to ensure sustainability of any work that I do. To train capable people and transfer knowledge to ensure that someone can do the work that I do after I leave. Knowing that I do not have all the answers and do not understand the complexity to local problems in the global context, I choose to give.

Delhi, India

Random shots from my trip in Delhi, India.

Nov 2009

Things I’m thankful for

“Black Friday sale!” “75% off deals” “Save..save..save”

These were just a few of the emails that landed in my inbox this week. Reminded me of another world approximately 10-13hrs behind my current time-zone. A world where shopping and buying and accumulating ‘stuff’ takes over the minds of every sane person.

I feel like I’m in an alternative world right now. I mean, as I’m typing this – there are children dying of diarrhea (a relatively simple disease with low-cost remedies) and there are people spending enough money on gift-wrap that could feed an entire family for months.

Living in India definitely has its ups and downs – I can’t seem to get past that. At times, I feel at home here. And many days I can’t wait to get out of here. I’ve definitely grown in different ways and alternatively there are things that have remained stagnant. But this post is not about the crazy thought-world of Devina. It is about the holidays.

While I feel like I’m a world away from the holiday season (India doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving – which marks beginning of the craziness that is the Christmas holiday season with all it’s commercial glory), I am also looking deeper to realize what the holidays mean to me.

While I have actually traditionally hated Christmas since I moved to the US, (I could write a whole another blog post on why!), this holiday season – I’m reminded of so many things to be grateful for. I’ll attempt to list a few here – in no particular order.

• My mother: I could write a book on her life and all the lessons that she’s taught me.
• My sister – my little sister is one of my best friends. Though we hardly talk much – the little Googlie bear is growing up fast and teaching me a lot.
• My life in the US: I appreciate the niceties in the US – living in India has taught me to appreciate even the simplest things like hot showers, clothes dryers, green salads and clean water.
• My friends – I have people in my life that I call my own at varying levels of intimacy. I pray for a lot of them on a regular basis and am grateful for them.
• The opportunity to travel – I have been blessed to grow up in a developing country, move to a more developed country and have an opportunity to go back to work in a developing country. While the upheaval with each move was not easy, I wouldn’t trade my life for anything.
• Ability to speak four languages – I’m SO grateful for my language skills, and ability to pick up languages, especially in India! It comes in useful when haggling with the auto-rickshaw drivers. Ha!
• Spices: I love to cook! Mainly because I love food. I’m lazy about cooking for myself – but love to entertain and have people over. Living in India has been in living in food heaven! I’ve been tantalized with every possible spice combination!
• Education: There was a time that I would have laughed if you told me that I’d one-day have a masters degree. I’m grateful for the schooling that I have received. Especially when I see how much thirst for knowledge is there in the people around me.
• My Lord and Savior Jesus: who continues to be there for me in spite of who I am. Who teaches me on a regular basis how to live fully, how to laugh often and how to love sacrificially.

I hope that this year's holiday season is a meaningful one for you – wherever you may be. Either sitting in cold wintery weather, or hot sunny tropical weather. I hope you are able to take a few breaths and step back from the commercialization that the holidays have become and look around you. As Mahatma Gandhi once said, ‘Whenever you’re faced with a doubt/difficulty, look into the face of the weakest/most vulnerable person that you may encountered. Ask yourself - is my next step going to benefit them or better their life?’. Things will be clear and you'll learn how much you really DO have..

Happy Thanksgiving!

Acclimation and identity

Two months! I just said to a friend! It’s been two months since I got off the plane and landed in Bangalore, India! I don’t know where time has flown, but I can say this one thing: It’s been fun! Full of ups and downs, but fun nonetheless.

Living in India has definitely taught me a lot – I normally do a lot of thinking and contemplating about things on a day to day basis, but being here has kicked my thinking cap into over-drive, much to the consternation of my close friends who have been great sounding boards during my time here. While I try to figure out this first-time-living-overseas-without-my-family-thing, I have appreciated SO much all of you who have called/emailed/facebooked and sent me thoughts in every so often in every small way.

While I am acclimating to life here, understanding my role at work a bit better, getting to meet new people, I still miss home a lot. It’s funny because I never considered America as home...I always thought Kenya as home. Perhaps it is because I have never stayed in one place long enough to strike down roots, or perhaps because I never identified myself as American.

Strangely enough, I do think a lot like an American. In my interactions here with Indians, I do come across as an American. And while I completely get the Indian mentality and way of doing things and even though I introduce myself as a Kenyan living in the US, perhaps a little bit of the US of A has rubbed off on me. And I’m learning that that is okay. (Talk about tri-cultural confusion!)

And while I am enjoying being here, and experiencing all the new places that I get to see (India is SUCH a beautiful country!), all the new people and cultures that I get to interact with (I get to hang out with Singaporean, Filipino, Swiss, Rwandan, Tanzanian AND Chilean people at my church!), I still look forward to going home.

Perhaps it is because my family – my closest people – are over there now. And home is always where the heart is…

As I write this, I am listening to one of my favorite artists – A.R. Rahman. In the background, I hear the dogs barking, the train hooting, and the cars honking. Life here definitely has its fair share of chaos, and India is a great testament to that! But I maintain that there’s peace in the midst of the chaos. Learning to look for that peace in the middle of the chaos can be challenging at times. Especially when nothing seems to go well. But learning to take each day as it comes and live it to the fullest is worth doing.

More random musings later…

A day in the life of…

I have decided against posting a play-by-play account of my experiences here in India. For many reasons, but mostly – I don’t have time to write about my days and the things I observe on a regular basis. Secondly, most days are mundane. The occasional non-mundane is also further attenuated by the fact that yours truly chooses to think that things ‘are-not-a-big-deal’…prefers not to pay undue attention to how my life in India is different from my life in the US.

But for the sake of dear friends who have asked over and over what I do on a daily basis, and how ‘life in India’ is…here goes nothing…

So, you might know that I am interning for Population Services International – an international health NGO. I’m based out of their Bangalore offices and mostly work in an office environment.

My day usually begins at 6am where I get woken up either by the dogs barking, or the newspaper guy calling out ‘paper!!’ or the sunlight, which falls on my bed in the mornings. I don’t have to be at work till 9.30am, so my morning routine has become very lazy. I take my own sweet time getting ready and love the morning hours where I can think in bed and plan for the day. I have also tried to go running/power-walking in the mornings, and have not been as diligent in working out as I should. Somebody keep me accountable!!

My commute to work consists of a 6-minute walk down a quiet tree-lined street listening to praise/worship music on my ipod. I’m now friends with the dhud-walla (milk-man) and say hello to him daily on my way to work. Pick up an occasional pista-milk (pistachio) or badam-milk (almond) from him in the mornings.

Work consists of desk-research at the moment. I’m usually in the office at my desk reading up and writing about tuberculosis in the state of Karnataka. My main project involves doing a gap analysis on an existing TB project and making recommendations to program managers on how to make things better given current context. It’s interesting work. I’ve been working mainly in the office to date, but am looking forward to field visits and seeing the programs on the ground first-hand.

We break for lunch around 1ish – and technically have a half-hour off for lunch. However, we all eat on the rooftop terrace of our building (there’s a full kitchen upstairs and long tables). The most wonderful thing about lunch is the sharing aspect. So everyone brings something to the table, and we all essentially take a bit from each other. It’s like a daily potluck!

Oh…work would not be work without my mentioning ‘sustenance’ aka chai. This wonderful stuff is delivered promptly by office support staff at 10am, 2pm, 4pm and in between by request. You have an option of masala chai, elaichi chai, ginger chai, black tea, etc..etc. I’ve gotten SO addicted to this stuff, it’s not even funny.

My work-day normally ends at 6pm, but I end up staying later as I have nothing better to do after work than to facebook and catch up on personal emails. Between that and talking on the phone (yes, I do have a lot of blah…blah to say!), my evenings are pretty much mundane. There you have it. A day in the life of. Weekends are a different story – a box of chocolates, as Forrest Gump said. I never know what I’m going to get. J

Things I miss about America (in no particular order):

1. A working showerhead – So, it’s back to bucket baths. I wash my hair twice a week and prefer to not get my head wet in between washes. Playing dodge-the-errant-stream of water from the showerhead that barely has any water pressure somehow is not my cup of tea.
2. Kitchen – I miss cooking! Miss playing host to dinner parties and having friends over to try my food. Miss being able to control what I’m going eat on a daily basis and attempting to eat healthy. Miss having my own place. (I currently rent a room from a family and have food delivered to me daily from a tiffin-lady - you should see me when I get the food nightly – I’m like an expectant bright-eyed kid opening up a gift – I never know what I’m going to get!)
3. Efficiency in systems – I am a perfectionist. I admit it. While I take my own time getting things done at times (aka procastinator), I like to do them well. And thus living in India where EVERYTHING takes thrice as long to do is a test to my patience-cells. I could write another blog post titled “It-should-NOT-take-(insert time here) to do (insert activity here)”. In the US, I could (all by myself without external help) move to a different city, find an apartment, move in, set up utilities, cable, internet, bank account, etc...etc, all within 2-3 days of having moved. Not so much in desiland.
4. American banter/humor – people don’t get my jokes!! I miss witty banter about everyday-normal things. Well, people didn’t get my jokes in the US either. (sad face)
5. My family and friends – Enough said.
6. Pandora! You can’t get Pandora outside of the US!! I’ve exhausted my Itunes library…and am tired of listening to the same-old-same-old (anyone want to send me music? Preferably something new that’s currently playing on the hit radio station *wink…wink*)
7. Food – Okay, I love the food I’ve eaten so far – but I do crave the non-Indian food. I’ve never been one to eat the same-old-same-old on a daily basis, so I miss having a kitchen to be able to cook non-oily-low-fat food. The other day, I was craving a plain old dark green salad SO bad!
8. Being able to call people – I’ve moved enough times in the last eight years and have been able to make new friends with each move, but maintaining old friendships is important to me and I miss being able to pick up the phone and call people and yak for hours. (Don’t ask what my phone bills are!)
9. The direct-forthrightness of American people – American culture is very forward. People say what they mean, and mean what they say. Well, most people. Not so much Indians. I’m still struggling with being careful in not stepping on anyone’s toes in the way I express myself.

Ten Things

I read a friend’s blog recently in which she had a ‘Ten-things-list’…and I thus decided to write up about the ten things that I love about India and the ten things that I miss about America. I don’t have a complete list yet, but I shall add to this as I continue to live and work in India.

Things I love about India (in no particular order):

1. Food – Being in India is like being in food-heaven! There are countless things that can delight your palates and stomachs (if you can stand the spiceyness!) Everything tastes so much better here! I suspect, it is because it is produced locally and is fresher.

2. Indian hospitality – Living in the US had me forget what a treat it is to have a complete stranger be so kind to you without so-much-as batting an eyelash. My most memorable experiences have been my interactions with my friend David’s bhai (brother) and bhabhi (sister-in-law). They have been like family here in Bangalore, and I appreciate them opening up their home to me and feeding me on weekends more than I can ever convey. I could write a whole blog post on Indian hospitality!

3. Random noises – You never know what random noises you’ll hear here. I have (now) gotten used to the dogs barking, trains hooting, auto-rickshaws put-putting, cars honking. But the cows mooing (in a very urban environment) and the newspaper guy calling out “paper” at 6am still cracks me up! (Reminds me of scenes from the movie my cousin Vinny!!)

4. Indian signs/banners – I have a whole photo album of random pictures that I’ve taken of signs and banners that make NO sense at all!

5. Chaos – believe it or not, the lack of organization and chaos (especially on the roads) is actually quite soothing. Perhaps it is because I grew up in an equivalent environment in Kenya.

6. The head-bobble (side-to-side head-shake): Cracks me up EVERY time! I’ve taken to doing it, too.

7. Shopping! I’ve taken to shopping on an Indian budget and not think in dollars (only because I’m on an Indian NGO salary here…and cannot afford to live like a normal expat) but things are still fairly cheap, and one can get a decent (and might I add, BEAUTIFUL) wardrobe on a shoestring budget.

8. Traveling – I love to see new places and experience new things. India is a beautiful country. I could live here for years and still not see everything, but the little that I have seen has me simply in awe and worship of my Lord who created it all.

Deriving significance...

Someone made a comment on my blog, so I went today on the site (after a month's hiatus!) to skim over some of my old posts. It’s been a while since I posted my thoughts online. I still need to write on my experiences in the motherland, but first here’s some randomness from today. I reread this post, and something in the second-last para (labeled as 'Listen') got me thinking…

Most of us are active, social people. I speak for those of us who are extroverts who thrive in the go-go nature of life. When we're not doing something productive and not surrounded by people, we tend to get down and out.

Being in India is really getting me out of my element and comfort zone. I'm SO used to being go-go-go all the time. Used to being Miss Efficient. I've always kept busy; love being challenged, and learning new things. This, being in India, away from all things familiar is not easy. Not having 10 million things to do on a daily basis is not easy – don’t even have Internet at home to keep me occupied! (I worked at a full-time job and went to grad school, for crying out loud!) Being in a land where things take an average of 3.5 times longer is not easy. (For example, it took me 5 weeks to get a bank account set up!)

But…I am learning lots here. Learning to sit still...learning to listen...to myself...to others around me. Mostly, I am learning how to depend wholly on my Lord. And find my significance only from Him. Not from people – my family and friends. Not from the work of my hands (macbook?)

I have to admit – it’s not easy to do this. We’re SO results-orientated. At work, we set targets and measure outputs. We’re always ‘delivering’. We measure impact and improve systems and processes. We often feel good about ourselves when we’ve had ‘productive days’. I wonder, is this how we relate to one another? Do our expectations of people derive from the same ‘results’ nature of things? Do we measure friendships with how much we got back?

I suspect that the lesson of deriving significance only from Him is going to be a life-long one. It’s a journey – one with many dips and turns, but when all else fails me, the One who teaches me on a daily basis to live to the fullest, laugh often and love sacrificially, never will.

More on India later!

The Trip

My trip to the Motherland started in the wee hours of the morning on Thursday Aug 27^th. Having stayed up WAY past my bedtime the night before packing and repacking, I was surprised that I could even muster the energy to be cheerful. Emotions were raw around my family, as we all knew that I was going to be gone for six months. And I, while I was scared shitless about this ‘adventure’, had to put on this happy-go-lucky face even before the caffeine in my morning chai hit my system.

My itinerary was as follows: Gainesville, FL > Jacksonville, FL > Newark, NJ > Frankfurt, Germany > Mumbai, India > Bangalore, India.

Drove the 2hr drive to Jacksonville airport (we live in little ol’ Gainesville which doesn’t have a major airport), managed to check my humongous bags in time to Newark airport where I was to catch my international flights to desiland. All was well until time to check in my bags for international flights in Newark, NJ came. Apparently the Air India scales thought that my bags were over the limit. The fact that Continental Air (domestic airline in the US) thought that the bags were not overweight back in Florida didn’t matter. So, it was either: cough up an extra $100 for ‘baggage fees’ or else. Don’t ask how much coy flirting I did with Jay Patel (Air India Customer Service agent). Either way, the ‘baggage fee’ was waived or the scales righted themselves. AND I got exit-row window seats as a result of my talking skills. LOL.

Landed in Bangalore in the wee hours of the morning on Sat Aug 29^th 2009. Wasn’t as jet-lagged as I thought I would be. Perhaps the fact that I was blessed with an exit row window seat and a few good hours of sleep on the plane might have had something to do with it. The flights across the oceans were uneventful. The clouds - beautiful. Got some beautiful shots of the sun rising and setting several times. God must have it so good!

It is when I landed in Mumbai that the ‘eventfulness’ started. Ha! I was blessed to have the kindness of a lady (whose name happened to be Kinjal Vyas! A good friend of mine shares this name!) who has travelled between the US and India via Mumbai enough times to know how to ‘navigate’ the Mumbai airport. This angel, as I prefer to call her, showed me the ropes.

So, the rule of thumb in Mumbai airport is: do not expect to see any information desks or people giving out info on where to go/what to do. Just do what the person in front of you is doing (and hope that they are not ticking off the immigration/customs officials!) We landed and were ushered into a long labyrinth of passageways. Upon reaching the ‘end’, we had to individually tag our hand luggage with Air India luggage tags (those little paper things with rubber-bands where we write our names/addresses and hope for the best when our luggage gets lost). Basically, anything in our hands – purses, rolly-polly bags, bottled water, etc needed to get tagged. I wasn’t sure why this was happening, and my jet-lagged brain wasn’t about to start questioning the ways of Indian Immigration. So taggage happened. (Don’t ask how I tagged my chunky neck-pillow!)

Because this is India, there were separate lines for Ladies and Gents. One Gent in particular decided to welcome me to India by slapping my butt as he made his way to the he-line. No, seriously. My withering stare back at him didn’t do much good. I mentally told myself to buy more kurtas (Indian loose-fitting tunic-like shirts) that would hopefully lessen the butt-slaps.

We went through the metal detectors and the perfunctory pat-down by the she-cop. Was told to dump out my water. (I thought I was being smart by asking the flight attendant on my flight for water so I wouldn’t have to buy any water at the airport!) And started the process of finding the connecting flight. ‘Started’ being the operative word. Like I said, no information desk or nothing on the TV-info screens telling us what gate to proceed to only meant one thing: start at one end of the terminal and ask each/every gate-agent: Is this the flight #602 to Bangalore? It took Kinjal (my flight-friend who was connecting to Ahmedabad) and I, about 25 minutes to find our gate. Not bad.

The rest of trip was uneventful. I had four hours in the middle of the night to kill. But too tired to do any exploring. Lugging my stuff all over the airport somehow didn’t seem appealing. So I sat. And watched. The terminal was a zoo. Literally. It felt like a market-place. Never mind that it was past midnight – everyone talked at the top of their voices. Children were running around. Babies were crying. Mothers were placating. Snoring was happening – don’t ask how, amidst the din. There were at least 15 languages being spoken. There were TONS of people (where were they all going??) At some point during this time, I said to myself, “Welcome to India”. In the midst of the chaos, I felt peace. Not sure why, but I was here. The land where my mother grew up. Where her mother did the same. Where my Brownness came from. I felt no kinship to anyone around me, but I simply knew that I was here.

My flight to Bangalore was eventually announced. Took off and landed. (They actually served little sandwiches and drinks – even though it was a 2am flight! Take that – you US flight carriers!) Went through immigration and customs (after being screened for swine flu – Bangalore is now the swine flu capital of India!) and got promptly picked up by my friend David’s brother and got inducted into the ways of Indian hospitality. The trip was over. The adventure was just beginning! Watch this space for more ‘eventfulness’.

Back to business!

Ok...so, little did I know that things would work out so fast! A friend of mine once called it 'Holy ease'. When things that are meant to happen actually happen. They simply flow. Sort of like a river that takes turns and bends on its course. Not in the way that we thought they would but in other ways that are even more wonderful.

Short story: I got my visas! And am actually going to desiland! And they worked out in ways better than I thought. Getting excited again - but this time - it's a more sedate sort of an excitement. More like, 'Hmm..I'm going away for a little bit. Not bad.' Am looking forward to learning all manner of things. From the fact that I really should stick to bottled water, since my immune system has gone floppy on me now that I leave in 'clean' America. To the fact I'll meet all kinds of people - good people, bad people. People who'll make me laugh. People who might even exasperate me enough to make me cry!

Either way - I'm grateful for the opportunity. Sometimes I pinch myself because I would have never dreamt of this life – an opportunity to make a small difference in the world. While working out the details of each paint-stroke is painstaking at times, the overall picture is beautiful and exciting.

So watch out! Stories shall abound! Pictures shall be taken. And hopefully, I shall be consistent in capturing the emotions of the moment and penning them down in this space. More later!