Auto Rickshaws and Amoebas

I have dazzled you all with the colorful, magical fantasy world that is part of India. But alas, there is another part. My two nemeses are now: auto rickshaw drivers, and my amoeba named Andy.
Rickshaws are three wheel vehicles somewhere between a motorcycle and a car that are used as taxis. There are thousands of them in the city and probably the primary way that I get around (besides the bus to school in the morning). Rickshaw drivers are notorious for cheating people, so one must always insist they use the meter. I have not gotten into one without a meter flipped on. However, I happen to have no knowledge of Bangalore as a city. I am just now starting to recognize landmarks, but it is scary getting into an auto and realizing the driver could take you anywhere. I will only tell one story of my hatred for rickshaw drivers as it is also quite comical. One afternoon, Bridget and I caught a rickshaw to take us home... so the story begins. About 20 minutes into the ride he stops and says that his rickshaw is broken. It was believable as the rickshaw has been going incredibly slow... So we all get out, driver included. Bridget and I attempt to get a new rickshaw while the driver manually pushes his up the hill. No more than a minute later and Indian woman runs up to our rickshaw and asks for a ride. The driver hops back in and off they go. Hmmm... that wasn't cool. SO then, we get into another rickshaw after being refused by about 5. We head out toward home when again 20 minutes later the rickshaw slows to a stop. This time it isn't because it is broken, he just simply had an errand to run. So he tell us to wait and grabs some bags from behind our heads to run into the shop. Five minutes later we are on our way again only to realize we had done a huge circle and in fact he had taken us 20 minutes the wrong direction to run his errand. But of course, he didn't understand english, so when i tried to yell at him it was to no avail. Moral of the story: never trust a rickshaw driver.
Now, Andy... the amoeba who is currently residing in my intestines. THe past three days have been full of pain, diarrhea, and depression as I struggle with being sick in a foreign country. And I really think the amoeba has been here for a little bit. However, today is much better, and I am hopeful that I am on the up and up. My family didn't quite grasp my issue. A week and a half ago I had one day of diarrhea and sickness, my host mom decided that she would exorcise that illness with some burning broomstick wood criss crossed in front of me. It may have worked momentarily, but then a week later the diarrhea was back with a vengeance. This time, no fire was going to save me. I got some meds from the doctor associated with my program and settled in for lots of rest. My family didn't seem content with the parasite explanation and continued to try to feed me and conspire with friends on what they had done wrong. Sunday, one of my many "aunties" came over with a jar of some sort of seeds and a bowl of yellow powder. This is the aryuvedic approach. I swallowed two handfuls of the bitter seeds and one of the pepper powder none of which was very pleasant... and then continued to have a terrible day. Later on, another auntie tried to get me out of bed to take me to her sister who would heal me. I decided against that plan, and to just let western medicine do its thing for the time being. That being said, I am more open to alternative approaches to medicine now than ever before.

Gods, Sarees, and lots of food

Friday night I arrived home from school a bit late because we had a really great presentation on Indian folk music. When I arrived my family informed me that I "had missed it."
"Missed what?" I said.
"The God. She came through the house already and is now in the next home."
Huh? I thought to myself. My sister said that I shouldn't worry because the God would be back on Sunday on her way out of town. We could go see her now and take pictures, but there were too many people there. Needless to say, this discourse led to much confusion in my mind. See a god? Take a picture of a god? The next night the festival would begin, so I just sat tight with my confusion.
I woke up and went to a friend's homestay house to learn the secrets of the Indian kitchen. I can now prepare chipati and some potato dish. I will dazzle you all when I return. After cooking and a little shopping I went home so that I could help prepare for the God. The night consisted of peeling hundreds of garlic cloves, shelling many many peas, getting my hand henna-fied, watching cheesy indian music videos,preparing offerings of flowers and fruit and coconuts for Aneema (the God), and trying desperately to stay awake until it was time for punjab at 2 in the morning. We knew it was time to go when men came to our door banging drums. They pulled Kantha, my brother, out of the house and danced with him as all the women gathered their offerings together. After the dancing we left the house and marched forward in the candle lit darkness to repeat our scene house by house. Each house delivered beautiful Indian women with pots of flowers, incense, candles, and trays of fruit. Occasionally someone would emerge with a chicken to sacrifice. The brigade grew into a swarm of colors and scents. I did my best to lay low , but my white skin glowed in the sea of Indian women. At the temple we gave our offerings, drank holy coconut milk, and received flowers. While some fave their trats, those with the pots circled through the chamber multiple times. Some time in there they sacrificed a sheep and chickens. It was surreal, the next morning it felt like i had dreamt it. There was a second punjab at 5:30 in the morning, but I didn't attend that one.
The next morning we prepped for the big party where 100-200 friends and relatives would be eating a feast on our roof. For the occasion my aunt and my sister, mamta, decided to dress me and bridget up in sarees. We went to the store where they bought us the little black belly shirts, then returned home to be wrapped and adorned. I wore a beautiful iridescent gold and black saree, a bindi, a gold necklace, and the henna on my hand. I truly felt like and indian princess ( i will add pictures soon). A bunch of my friends came to the party as well, so it was fun to show them my homestay life. THe feast was full of all sorts of flavors and chicken parts, some I was more inclined to eat than others. But mostly the festival was a time to interact with people and share in the love for the god.
So finally... the god Aneema. Sunday night it was time for the God to leave. We all went on the roof to watch the processional begin out of the neighborhood. It was at that moment I realized that the God was actually a big lit up golden float that contained an altar. It went with a marching band, a float with singers, and lots of people house to house to receive the people's final punjab. Our house was the last to be reached. Needless to say, it was quite the experience. Aneema is the god for health and success. SO maybe, just maybe, she can help me on this journey.

Welcome to India

Where to begin... There are three distinct smells of Bangalore: Indian food, Incense, and occasional wafts of urine. People eat with their hands here because as my host brother said, "God made hands for work and eating." But for clarity, one should eat with only the right hand, because it is in fact true the other is used for wiping. There is not toilet paper in my bathroom, and have been avoiding the inevitable with the few tush wipes I brought... my supply is soon to run out. Traffic is crazy and chaotic. I fear for my life every time I have to cross a street or get in an auto. I saw a man next to his motorcycle in a puddle of blood on my way to school this morning. It is a tough reality to swallow. Traffic lights are a suggestion, and basically everyone is in a big game of Mario Kart. I am learning to be cautious, but also not be too scared. That's the intro, now let's get to specifics.
My family consists of two parents who are 40 and 50, neither speak english, and three english-speaking children, 23 year old boy, 20 year old girl, and 18 year old boy. The siblings serve as our cultural brokers, and we have truly been treated like gods. Aaahh there is so much to say, and so little time left on my computer. I guess I'll settle to tell the story of my day yesterday. There is a bit of political turmoil happening here in Karnataka over water rights (look it up in the news to learn more). Nothing serious has occured, but people are taking precautions. Because of fear, our class was cancelled yesterday, so my brother asked if me and the other american living with me, bridget, would like to go to a temple. Of course we said yes. We pile into a car with our aunt and uncle, their daughter, our brother (kantha), and our sister. First we go to an exposition of handicrafts, all so beautiful, and then we get back in the car to emerge 3 HOURS LATER in the midst of rocky hills and countryside. We then climb up a small small mountain to go into a cave that has been scultped as a temple to Ganesh and his parents. It was an absolutely amazing experience. I participated as best as I could in Hindu worship, but am sure I looked quite akward. I drank some holy water from Ganesh's mom, and my brother told me to ask her for a wish and she'll make it come true. SO I decided it wouldn't hurt, and I asked her to make sure I got the most out of this trip as is possible. (My family is very hindu. We have a shrine in our house. When I first came to the home my mom was going into pray and didn't say hi until she was done.) On the way back we hit a wedding of my aunt's friend. I got to go into the bridal chamber and watch as the meticulously draped her in gold so that she could go have a one minut cermony in which she and her husband exchanged flower wreaths, and then stood for four hours as every group of family and friends got their picture taken with them. Marraige is a whole different topic I dont' have the time to get into.. but I have had some interestign discussions with my host sister, rohini, about it. Ok, that is all I can do for now. So rry it is so crazy and vague. I don't have as much access as I thought I would. I love hearing from everyone and I am a bit homesick. Love with hugs.

Pictures!

By the way folks, the group has created a flicker account to put our pictures. I have not taken many pics yet nor have I loaded any. But if you are just dying to see some pics of my travels even if they are not my own, here is the site: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ihphc07/. ENJOY!

Today is the day...

After two weeks of anticipation, talking about being ready, clinging to my cell phone to stay in touch, it will be time to turn it off tomorrow. I leave for the airport at 4pm and arrive in India on Sunday. It's going to be quite the journey. Before moving on to the next leg, I want to review the highlights of my time in Boston.

• The community building. I am amazed by how amazed I am by my peers that I will be traveling with. I have never been surrounded by 30 people who are filled with the same passion I am to learn about health and inequalities and then do something about it. I am no star in this crowd. I have friends who have volunteered in Tanzania, Kenya, China, disability camp, South Africa, Mexico, cities all over the US, and beyond. I can learn so so so much from everyone I am surrounded by, and that is absolutely exhilarating. That obviously means that this could be a very intense experience. Luckily I have found a few friends I already know I can truly let it all down and laugh with. One of those friends is Ari who has been in my room in the hostel with me. She is a sociology major at Bates, and we have many of the same dilemmas and life crazinesses. She has been a buffer for me.
• The Long Island Homeless Shelter run by the Boston City Health Commission. This place is amazing. It is out on an island across from Boston (about 30 min from downtown). The buildings were originally used as a TB sanitarium, then were used for a hospital for the chronically ill, and are now home to a 400-bed emergency shelter to which people are bussed from the city, transitional housing for mostly people who have substance abuse problems, a job-training program which trains people in such things as maintenance, culinary arts, and the like. The people that worked there were all amazing. I am constantly overwhelmed by how many driven, positive, people exist in this world to do good.
• Yeshe coming to visit. I had the weekend off from my nine-to-five "job", and Yeshe came out for one last goodbye. It was nice to see someone from my other world before embarking out into this new world. As much as I am going to melt into this experience, I know it will be crucial for me to maintain communication with my loved ones so that I don't come back utterly lost. I want to know the exciting and the mundane from all of you!
• Encounters with amazing speakers. While I would say that many of the experts we heard from gave rather one-sided views, they were views that were good to hear for me. I would say that it would have been nice for a few less talks, so as to have a bit more time to think, but overall I feel very lucky. I have so many contacts at the Boston University school of Public Health if I ever want to come here. I think the thing that has hit me most from all my learning these past two weeks is "the culture of biomedicine". I had never really thought of biomedicine as a culture, it was a given norm of my life. To dissect the process of becoming a doctor and to understand the rituals and enculturation that goes into producing a doctor really flipped my view of what is normal. Why is it normal to go to a hospital and be surrounded by professionals dressed in blue when you have a baby? Why does it seem weird to have your baby in your own home? This is one of many realizations I have had so far, and I look forward to working through these questions throughout the next few months.

I think that is all I am going to go in to for now. The next time you hear from me I will be in India. It's kind of crazy, but oh so exciting!