Sum Res Cogitans – I think, therefore I am.

We sat in a large circle in the seminar room of the DCSE building. It was my first day in Hubli. “Desh” Deshpande was there with his wife, Jaishree, too. For most of us, this was our first time in India and we didn’t know quite what to expect. The room was starting to fill with anxiety and it was apparent from our faces. Desh sat a few chairs down from his wife in a seat directly in front of the stage– it was the perfect spot. He was the boss, the one running the Deshpande show. Softly smiling and examining the room, he looked around and asked us three simple questions: What is your name? Where are you from? And, why are you here? One by one, we went around the room. The first two questions were simple. But surprisingly nobody answered his third question– nobody! Most answers to the third question sounded something like this: “The project I’m working on this summer is…” Maybe it was the pressure of being in a large room full of people or maybe it was that no one had anything powerful and provocative to say, but we all defaulted to a question he never asked– What are you doing here? Looking back on it now, the best answer to his third question was just as simple as the first two– to learn.

And that’s what our team did this summer. We learned and saw a lot- that, by far, was our biggest success. The fact that we were able to experience India through four different sectors provided us with a well-balanced and fair understanding of some of the biggest challenges faced in this country. The raw information we collected in the areas of Education, Agriculture, Health, and Livelihood was captivating, eye opening, and at times shocking. With that information, we were able to accomplish the following tasks:

• Interviews: six NGOs, three government officials, two journalists, four doctors, and one politician
• Field visits: five village visits, three school visits, and a visit to Karnataka University
• Footage: 20 hours of footage
• Videos: two videos completed (education, agriculture) and one in process (health)
• Documents: Developing Challenge Videos Manual, Sangha Process Flow Diagram

There were many obstacles along the way. From delayed and postponed interviews to illnesses within the team, we experienced a range of impeding challenges that constantly tested our ability to stay poised. Initially, our biggest challenge arose when we discovered we didn’t have a way to offload video from the camera and onto our hard drive for editing. After a week of getting the run-around at local tech shops with faulty and nonexistent computer equipment, we discovered that a colleague had the ability to transfer the data via his laptop. Challenge #1, solved. The next challenge, and undoubtedly the most significant challenge, was getting our web platform developed. The feasibility of our project’s biggest component was essentially an unknown for weeks until we were able to develop a relationship with a qualified web developer. After making a connection through a DF staffer, we were able to make a trip out to Bangalore, meet with the development team, discuss our design, and create a timeline for final delivery. I’m happy to say the website is now in the process of being built.

Even with all the setbacks, the experience this summer was incredible and full of many lessons gathered along the way. My time in India has taught me just how important patience and communication are when working in a foreign country. And working with such a diverse group of people from many different backgrounds has exposed me to others' talents, skills, experiences, and knowledge. And if I can be remotely honest with myself, I know there’s still a lot more to be learned.

-Zlatan

India kills creativity and collaboration–both mentally and physically

The Deshpande Center for Social Entrepreneurship or DCSE (pictured above) has –over the course of the last six weeks– become my home away from home, my office, and the reason I and nine other USC students have come to India. Started in 1996 by Gururaj and Jaishree Deshpande, the Deshpande Foundation is one of the world’s foremost philanthropic organizations dedicated to social change through innovation, entrepreneurship, and international development. As “innovators” for the Foundation’s 2010 Global Exchange Program, my university colleagues and I have partnered up in teams to design projects we are currently implementing this summer in the “Sandbox” region of Karnataka.

Given the Deshpande Foundation’s vision for development and innovation through global exchange, it should be by no surprise then that the DCSE building itself is innovative– architecturally speaking. Located at the southern end of the BVB College of Engineering and Technology, the home of the Deshpande Foundation utilizes unique form, expanding space, and a varied palette of construction materials. Don’t get me wrong, the building is by no means an architectural wonder. But with its distinct design concept and construction methodology, along with its 10,000 liter rainwater harvesting system and extensive stormwater management, the DCSE is by far the most innovative building on campus.

What does this have to do with anything, you might ask? Well, first let me ask you this. Do you think it’s a mere coincidence that the organization most preaching innovation is the one with the most innovative building? It’s no coincidence. The Deshpandes clearly had a vision. They understood that physically taking an individual out of a literal “box” building was the first and most important step in helping that person to start thinking outside the box i.e. thinking innovatively or creatively. Quite simply, they “encourage” us – whether we know it or not – to be innovative by making the environment around us innovative. Think about it, it makes sense! With that said, very few things exist outside of the Deshpande Foundation in India that encourage creativity, imagination, or innovation.

I have just briefly discussed this issue from a physical perspective, but let’s take a look at it using both categories: mental constraints vs physical constraints to creativity in India.


Mental Constraints

Take India’s primary education system, for example. Like education in the U.S or in other western countries, India rewards its students for memorization. Like us, they too have quizzes and exams that test their students’ ability to memorize things they have either read or learned in class. But unlike the U.S., India doesn’t offer subjective learning- mainly in the form of art. Drawing, painting, sculpture, photography, and many other creativity-demanding activities don’t exist in India’s primary school curriculums, whether public or private. Walk into a classroom here and you won’t see any of the children’s artwork hanging around the classroom. Why? Because they don’t do it.

“Why is it that no original research is being done in India?” asked Dr. Sanjeev Kulkarni, a practicing gynecologist and founder of Baala Balaga, a progressive Indian school located in the nearby city of Dharwad. Dr. Kulkarni decided to start his own “school” – from the front room of his house– for his young son after seeing the limits India’s education system places on students. Now in its 14th year, Baala Balaga (www.baalabalaga.org) has grown into a legitimate school composed of three building complexes and roughly 500 students. Here, the belief is in learn by doing, where activities like drawing, cooking, and sports are an integral part of the curriculum just like mathematics and science. For Dr. Kulkarni, these types of nonconventional activities sometimes offer the same value, if not more value, over the course of child’s life than traditional school topics.

Baala Balaga is not the only school with this type of unique philosophy. The Blue School (http://www.theblueschool.org/) in lower Manhattan offers a similar approach to learning where creativity, collaboration, and play are vital to a child’s learning process. In a similar story (http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/ken_robinson_says_schools_kill_creativity.html), Ken Robinson explains the limits traditional schools place on the imagination and how they kill creativity in children rather than foster it. Mental constraints aren’t the only killers of creativity. Physical constraints are there also.


Physical Constraints

I’d like to talk about physical constraints for creativity in India on two levels, the building level (individual) and the city level (societal). I talk about these constraints from the perspective of human collaboration–the foundation of our team’s project this summer. To understand this, we’ll first have to agree on two things: human interaction is a prerequisite of human collaboration and human collaboration advances human imagination.

Individual, or building level constraints apply more to small groups, such as families or classrooms of students. Going back to India’s education system, the physical design, or lack thereof, of schools and classrooms greatly puts students at a disadvantage to be imaginative and interactive. If you can recall my earlier argument about the design of the DCSE building and how literally being inside an actual “box” presumably traps a person from thinking outside the box…..then you’ll understand my problem when I say the design of nearly every public and private classrooms that I’ve seen in India- with the exception of Dr. Kulkarni’s classrooms- is in the form of an enclosed box that isolates students from one another. With steel bars on the windows, the rooms look more like prison cells than classrooms. Where’s the creativity in that?

Moreover, public schools don’t provide the basic infrastructure for children to learn, let alone be creative. About three weeks ago, my team and I did a ride-along with the education NGO Agastya to a local government school. To my surprise, the children had to sit on the concrete floor because there weren’t enough chairs. There weren’t enough tables or books either. We later learned that the children neither had a suitable toilet nor clean drinking water; to use the bathroom, they had to go to nearby fields, and to get water, they used a pond across the road. As they later told us, all they really wanted was a proper playground to play with one another.

Have you (referring to my USC colleagues) ever asked yourself what purpose the courtyard in our Scholars House serves? Is it just for natural light and ventilation? Is it simply a garden for plants? Or was it meant to be something more? If you haven’t noticed, our Indian neighbors on the second floor have placed plastic chairs around the perimeter of the courtyard; they sit there and talk. Why? Because they want to use the courtyard. They want to be able to sit and interact with each other and the other people living here. They want this to be their playground. Think about it and ask yourself this: does the design of this courtyard- or the schools that we’ve visited for that matter- encourage interaction?

The physical design of the city is just as unresolved when it comes to human interaction in my opinion. Like our courtyard, the major issue with Hubli lies with the use, or nonuse, of its streets and public open spaces. Wait, let me back up for a second. Public open spaces don’t even exist in Hubli! Other than the one public park that I’ve been to in this city–which was, keep in mind, so warmly inviting with its six foot tall steel gate blocking pedestrians from freely coming in–the closest thing you’ll get to a public open space in Hubli is the crowded downtown market. Yes, the surrounding streets support high levels of pedestrian traffic, but it’s chaotic and there’s nowhere to sit. I have to stand to drink my coconut or eat my ice cream, while keeping one eye on the road so not to get run over by a bus. Streets here, and in most other Indian cities, rarely offer spaces of stasis–areas to just sit and observe the human experience, the daily routine, or the “social drama” of the city as Lewis Mumford so eloquently once put it. Time spent in this city seems more like a constant scatter of empty experiences, waiting to be realized. Interaction on these streets is sparse and swift at best- often with little or no substance. Even with all the curiosity and interest that I and my friends attract, we rarely interact with people on the street. Can you remember the last time you had a fruitful conversation with a stranger on the street? With 1.2 million people, the twin cities of Hubli-Dharwad offer some of the densest and least pedestrian-friendly streets I have set foot on. And from what I've seen, quality human interaction is missing here. Yet we wonder where the community involvement is? Where is the collective living?!

Hypothetically speaking now, just imagine for a second what Hubli could look like if streets connected activity-rich public spaces that actually brought people together for a purpose, like well-planned parks or plazas. Imagine outdoor shops and restaurants that incorporated dance performances, festivals, and Indian weddings, bringing different parts of the community together. Who’s to say it's not possible? I’m not saying I have the solution. But what I do know is that Hubli’s current physical and mental formwork suppresses the two most essential elements of growth: creativity and collaboration.

Albert Einstein once famously said, “Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.” Unfortunately in Hubli, imagination is rare and difficult find. But luckily for my teammates and I this summer, creativity and collaboration shouldn’t be our issue. Because if Wikipedia is our model for collaboration and the rest of the world is our imagination, I can’t wait to see the attractions life has in store for Hubli!

-Zlatan

Outsourcing Anti-Privacy from India

It was like any other night, a disagreeable stomach, a case of the voms and a session nerding out to NPR's podcast of Science Friday with Ira Flatow. Alright Ira, lay it on me - are we heading down the path of the metphase karyotype of microchromosomes into heterochromatin (oh, i think i just vomited again), or are we entering bush league territory, where a set of ears and a pulse gets you admission? Fortunate for me and my temperamental GI system, the science gods had coated me in their pink bath of pepto bismol compassion. Tonight's topic: maintaining your privacy in the world of social networks. Flatow please, I dream in tweets; I eat digital facebook gifts for breakfast; Mark Zuckerberg and I share the last four letters in our names. Consider it cake.

So here I am, not even a minute into the podcast when Ira starts talking about how the US Library of Congress plans to archive every single tweet. Come again?

Look, I know that I made some privacy tradeoffs when I entered the realm of Facebook and Twitter. Heck, I'm sure there are some NSA brass trolling my accounts right now, questioning whether my post on the superiority of Middle Eastern and Indian food is a legitimate culinary critique or a reason to ship me to Gitmo.

But what the Library of Congress is doing is far more intrusive, almost creepy. They're grabbing my information - without permission - and parading it around town with impunity, giving every wingding, dumbbell and lawyer (love you, honey!) a field day. Even if I erased my account, I could not escape the Library's archived history of my snarky comments and links, like this regrettable blog post you will soon see on my twitter page.

So will this change my social media ways? Never.

If I've learned anything in India, it's that our concept of privacy is evolving towards greater openness. As we begin to understand the full ramifications of our online social presence, we'll soon realize that we are already behind the curve. Walk into any village in India, ask them how much they make, ask them how educated they are, ask them if they are able to afford to put food on the table. It doesn't matter if 30 other villagers of differing incomes or social strata are listening in, there are no secrets - none. Sit in my room for a day and wait as one of the house staffers walks in without knocking, or an Indian compadre comes to greet you only after walking around to see what's on your computer screen. Hop onto an overcrowded bus, where shoulder-shoulder standing is sometimes replaced with lapsitting, or on the street, where boys and men of all ages, walk hand in hand, or arm-around-shoulder, sometimes spanning four bodies in length. Witness the abundance of conversation happening all around you among people who met only minutes ago. Even with the remnants of a disappearing caste system, there are no self-imposed barriers here, there is no privacy.

For a civilization dating back nearly 9,000 years, maybe India is on to something. Maybe our relationship with Facebook and Twitter is just a realization of our own inevitable societal journey from the breaking of privacy blockades towards an embrace of openness; we're just 8,766 years behind.

I believe our civil liberties are our most cherished rights as Americans - I was once a card carrying member of the ACLU. And I'm not about to give up all the comforts of my American privacy lifestyle, but if the Library of Congress wants to take my cherished tweets away from me and my 36 followers, fine, they can have them. If India is any indication, the Library of Congress is the one already behind the curve.

Any other Library of Congress types out there interested in archiving my tweets can do so using my Twitter handle: @JPGberg

-Jesse

Travelling through Southern India - Kumily

Everything about Kumily was amazing! The scenery was amazing, the weather was amazing, and the people were- yeah, you guessed it- amazing!

We arrived to Kumily in the later hours of the night and were instantly greeted by the locals. Abbas, a nearby resident (above), offered to take us to a well known guesthouse where we stayed the night. During the next two days we took a jeep jungle safari, a jungle trek, a boat ride on a lake, an Indian spice tour, and a tea plantation tour- each being an adventure in and of itself. For me however, the highlight of Kumily was connecting with Abbas and the local Muslim community. After finding out I come from a Muslim family, Abbas, a Muslim himself, became extremely excited and asked me to join him for prayer at a nearby mosque the next day. I accepted his offer although I felt a little hesitant about going because I wasn’t sure how the local Muslims would respond to a white westerner coming into their place of worship. The moment I walked into the mosque the next day, all the anxiety I had previously felt went away. I was immediately welcomed with smiles and handshakes by not only Abbas’ closest friends, but also by the Imam, an Islamic religious leader. It seemed as though they were that much more thrilled that I was actually Caucasian. The warmth and happiness I felt radiating from every person I met that day was so welcoming. I felt more at home here than I did anywhere else in India!

After finishing up the afternoon prayer and having a deep spiritual conversation with his friends, Abbas and his closest friend Abdullah offered to take me to a nearby Islamic school where I could talk to someone the Muslims in Kumily considered ‘very important.’ I was having such a great time at the mosque that I couldn’t refuse, so we got into a rickshaw and left.

Driving over, I couldn’t help but wonder who they were taking me to. I wanted to ask, but the engine was too loud and the view was too amazing to ignore. As the road took us up the mountain, it curved along the contour lines of the hills, offering breathtaking views of the tea farms below. I could see green, my favorite color, everywhere. After about 15 minutes, we stopped at the side of the road and got out. I noticed a narrow pathway leading up to what I assumed to be the school- it was perched up on a small hill overlooking the entire valley below. A group of young men (Muslim students who came from all over India, as I later learned) greeted us at the door and directed us towards a larger common room in the school. It was a very small and intimate school; probably less than 5,000 sq ft of actual building- about the size of an NBA basketball court. The common room was a little dark as I first walked in- an open door with a view to the valley below was the only source of natural light. I walked towards the door not because of the light, but because I could see the dark silhouette of a man sitting against the doorframe. I didn’t have my glasses on, but from a distance I could see that his legs were crossed, that he had a long beard, and that he was facing us.

“Please have a seat,” he said as he gestured to the space on the floor directly in front of him. I sat down Indian style (no pun intended) less than three feet away from him. Abbas, Abdullah, and the rest of the students sat down in a semi-circle around us, with the two of us being closest to the door and the light. I could now see that he was an older man, probably in his mid to late sixties. His dark skin contrasted his white, yet not-so-dense beard. But unlike his beard, he looked short and heavy-set. He introduced himself as Muhammad, an Islamic teacher, world traveler, and servant of God; he explained that he goes around the world sharing God’s message. He then asked me a few general questions, in nearly perfect English, about where I come from, whom I was travelling with, and what I was doing in India. The whole time I was there in that room, I felt a sense of peace and quiet unlike that I felt anywhere else in India. There were no sounds of car horns or city traffic. No animals on the street. No street vendors trying to sell you the next thing you really didn’t need….maybe it was because we were in a smaller town or that we were up in the hills and away from everyone. Whatever the reason, there was something about being in that school at that moment that felt exactly right. I can’t say for a fact if it was God, but the energy in there was undeniable. I felt relieved for some reason- And I was happy.

After talking for about 10 minutes, Muhammad asked if I could join the students for lunch. We left the common room and went into a smaller room to eat. Once again sitting on the floor, we circled around a large plate of food- four to five people per plate. They could obviously tell this wasn’t something I was used to. My legs and feet were starting to hurt from sitting on the floor for so long, and I was making a mess trying to eat with my hands. One of the students mentioned that sharing food from a common plate helps you feel compassion for those you are eating with. And it made sense. We were sharing food with one another in a very personal and communal social dynamic. We finished eating, cleaned up, said our goodbyes and were gone just like that. Everything that happened that day, happened for a reason I believe. Leaving Kumily with Crystal and Candice that afternoon felt different from the previous towns we had visited. For the first time, I felt a little sad about getting on the bus for the next city. I wanted to stay a little longer but we didn't have time; we had to keep moving. We needed to be in Hubli in less than a week and we still had five other cities we wanted to go to! So towards Alleppey we went…

-Zlatan

Travelling through Southern India- Chennai, Mamallapuram, Pondicherry, Trichy, Madurai

I finally made it to Mount Heera Hotel that morning where I slept for five hours. I eventually met up with my two friends, Crystal and Candice later that day and we stayed in Chennai for the night. The next morning we began our journey south- first stop, Mamallapuram!

Mamallapuram was beautiful! Classified as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the town boasts some of the most mesmerizing monuments- many hand carved out of solid rock! One of these monuments- a temple- caught my attention before I even laid eyes on it; a town map showing the location of the temple instantly captivated me. Shore Temple, as it was called, sat directly on the beach overlooking the Bay of Bengal. The weather was extremely hot and a large group of people was swimming in the water to the left of the temple, and to the right, a row of beach houses sat directly overlooking canoes on the sand. Although the temple was being renovated at the time of our visit and had scaffolding all around it, I could see every detail on the perimeter of the walls. Motifs of Gods and Goddesses wrapped the structure on every side. After visiting the local monuments, we hit to road towards Pondicherry, a famous French colony south of Mamallapuram.

After a somewhat disappointing time in Pondicherry (losing my camera + extremely hot/humid weather + nothing to see) we continued towards Trichy and Madurai. There was a lot to see in Madurai. Here, I got my first tailored Indian outfit, saw numerous Hindu temples, and was blessed by an elephant (see picture below). Of the temples, the Meenakshi-Sundareswarar Temple was the most intriguing. Designed as a labyrinth, the structure seemed to take you above and below ground, through shops and around sacred niches, and finally to an open courtyard filled with water. Around the perimeter and within its walled compound were 14 Gopurams, or monumental towers that rise upwards of 170ft. Each tower was in the shape of a pyramid and highly decorated with colorfully painted sculptures. After leaving Madurai, we headed towards the western side of south India to Kumily, a magnificent town in the Cardamom Hills.

-Zlatan

When Two Tylenol Won't Cut It

My introduction to Hubli has come with a bag of mixed emotions. In my short time here I've struggled to wrap my head around the sheer complexity of a culture so foreign to my own. In a place full of oxymorons, as one DF staffer referred to it, Hubli has certainly left me grappling to make sense of the dissonance around me. At one moment, it is an experience of unmatched excitement and intrigue, but at the next, it's stressful, anxiety-inducing and down-right befuddling.

I've had people out of the kindness of their heart offer me a ride across town in their car, while I can't seem to get a vacant auto to drive me 2km when offering to pay a 50% premium over the local rate.

People have taken me into their homes for a freshly cooked meal, emblematizing the mantra that "guests are god," and cooking with love and a sense of family, regardless of cultural differences, while restaurants engage in the bait-and-switch of menu pricing bleeding any goodwill or repeat patronage.

In business school, they stress how important India is becoming in the global economy. And when you meet with the business folks and NGO leaders you see why. These are brilliant, accomplished folks, some of the brightest I've met, with an unyielding passion and an unstoppable sense of mission and purpose. But you contrast that with the army of seven men who came into my bedroom to check if the water was working. SEVEN guys to turn on a faucet! Where's the business savvy in that?

My challenges with Hubli are part of the physical and mental adjustments of living in a new place. It's an exercise in patience, listening and understanding. While I have long way to go before I can get my finger on the pulse of my temporary new home, there are things that are unmistakably matters of fact:

• the food is amazingly good (and cheap)
• the mangos are heavenly (er, nirvanaly?)
• double yellow lines? where we're going, we don't need double yellow lines.
• nonprofit organizations from around the world could take a lesson from the ngos here
• government bureaucracy by comparison makes capitol hill look like a well oiled machine
• if there was an international staring competition, hubli would win hands down
• the rural village people are beyond gracious
• bellbottoms and jeans with 17 pockets are in fashion
• they don't dance in Hubli, they extreme-dance in Hubli
• on time? (favorite quote - "He'll be with you at 12."::"But sir, its already 12:20."::"Ma'am, this is India.")
  

My time here has been amazing, but not without its challenges. Sometimes I just want to pull my hair out. Sometimes I just want to pump my fist in anger. But sometimes, you just need to laugh and remember we're not in Kansas anymore.

-Jesse

Some Random Thoughts...

Now, I mean no disrespect when I write this.. but India can drive a person crazy. It is certainly a country of extremes; from the most minute detail to overwhelming stereotypes. For example, tastes and flavors... the sweets are pure sugar; the savory items, pure salt. The spice is legendary. The sounds...car horns, engines rumbling, trains, cows, birds, aunties yelling, all work together to form a cacophony of intense proportions. The disparity between the rich and poor can be seen in the hollow eyes of disabled beggars disregarded by the paunchy businesspeople of the burgeoning middle class. The gender roles are overtly apparent; women are portrayed as lustful, powerful objects in movies but cannot even sit among the men who drink in bars. At the very least, these establishments could broadcast sports (i.e. the World Cup games) in the “family sections,” where we lady-folk have to sit. But I digress... my point here is that actually getting work done in such an overwhelming environment is difficult. But, if you don’t take the time to consciously relax, breath, and laugh at the ridiculousness of your situation, you will certainly fall victim to stress and panic attacks. Maybe this is why India is the birthplace of meditation...

The sensory extremes and social contradictions are what make work here hilarious (or, if you haven’t meditated, extremely annoying). For example, we remarked at how this economy is one of the fastest growing in the world but still workers take 2 hour lunches, offices are inconsistently open, meetings are never on time, broken sidewalks show us glimpses of partially-open sewers, and the issue of open defecation has yet to be solved. I’m beginning to think that many problems we view as systemic are, in fact, policy issues. Perhaps not at the policy-making level, but more so at the implementation level. An office manager at the Block Education Office nervously laughed, smiled, and shrugged when we asked him where all the money allocated for the government schools goes; a subtle nod to some inconsistencies in the system.

Our first goal is to accurately document the biggest challenges faced by NGOs and local governments in this region. This is proving to be an interesting feat for our team. Although the need for development is greatly publicized, many people are reluctant to admit that there are serious issues and inconsistencies in the area. My take-away from all this is that it’s going to take some serious tenacity and digging on our part to unearth some of the root causes of the income gap, poor public education, inadequate access to healthcare, and lack of income-generating opportunities. True, we cannot expect to change the way social policy is shaped here... but we can work together to address issues that policy alone cannot resolve.

Here is a little test-video I made to practice editing... all the footage is from our flip-cams (graciously loaned out by the Stevens Institute). Apologies for the shaky video!

~ Saru

“T.I.I : This is India” - Discovering India

Mimicking the phrase “T.I.A: This is Africa” from the 2006 movie Blood Diamond, “T.I.I: This is India” was coined by former Global Impacters in order to describe the unfamiliar and sometimes bizarre things they saw or experienced while in India. Upon arriving to Chennai on May 27 (at 3am in the morning), I had my first “T.I.I” moment- before even stepping out of the airport!

I had just gotten off the plane, retrieved my luggage, and was heading for the exit door. As I stepped out, I was greeted by a sea of brown faces, all staring directly at me. I stood for a few really long seconds and took a left. Walking down the narrow pathway, I couldn’t help but notice EVERY single person looking at me, which made me even more uneasy. I continued walking and before I knew it, the hot and humid air of the night sky had already filled my lungs; I was in the street, alone, and in the dark. I didn’t know where to go, so I went back into the airport. I paced back and forth a few times and kept asking myself “What should I do? What should I do?” I really had no idea. I was supposed to meet two of my friends later that day, but didn’t have a cell phone to call them on or the address of the hotel we were planning to stay at. All I knew was that I didn’t want to roam too far from the airport, get lost, and miss my friends flights. Luckily, an English speaking Indian man saw me and offered to call me a taxi that could take me to Mount Heera, a nearby hotel (As I later learned, this would be a bad idea because the hotel that the taxi would take me to would have really high rates and would give the English speaking Indian man part of the profit- one that I’d be paying for). I was a bit hesitant, but felt like I had no other options at the moment, so I agreed. The taxi ride was less than 10 minutes, but seemed much longer than that. It was uncomfortably quiet inside. I didn’t say a word and the driver didn’t say a word- I just kept my eyes on the road.

India seemed a bit scary and chaotic from the safety of the car. I noticed three things as the driver navigated the unlit and bumpy streets of Chennai: 1) The amount of trash and debris that littered the city was very unwelcoming 2) Every corner seemed to have some type of animal on it, whether a dog, chicken, or cow 3) Even at 3am in the morning, men were walking the streets. I didn’t know where I was or what I had gotten myself into. I could only remember one thing- “This is India, this is India” as the taxi drove off into the night…

- Zlatan

Sketch of Mount Heera hotel room

Settling in Hubli

Hubli is surprisingly developed in comparison to some of the places I traveled in Tamil Nadu and Kerala. The main road is paved. There are occasional strips of sidewalks. There are actual bus stands with headcovers. Settling in Hubli was not difficult at all after two weeks of intense traveling. It was nice to put able to put down our heavy packs and unpack our clothes in the closets.

The three-day orientation was very rigorous and extremely helpful in becoming acclimated to the area. The site visits were definitely the highlights of the three days. I was extremely impressed the organizations and their missions. As Saru already mentioned in her blog, the organizations were creative in their solutions to social issues in this region. Also, we met with the founder of Deshpande Foundation. He was a kind man with a lot of knowledge of incubating knowledge and creating an environment to foster creative leadership and a heart of social entrepreneurship. To be able to meet the man to make it possible for us to pursue our projects in Hubli was a honor and we realized that we have an important responsibility to make sure our project is sustainable and impactful.

One of the most important aspects of this trip to India is to connect with the local community. I looked forward to staying in Hubli because I want to develop trust and rapport with the individuals with the closest knowledge to the pain points of this region. Also, the rapport allows me to feel closer to this country instead of simply being an outsider looking into a fishbowl. I felt like I am an active participant in this community. Sometimes when I wear my Indian clothes and eat Indian food, I just want to simply appreciate that I am in India and I have the opportunity to test out our crowdsourcing concept.

On the flip side, settling in Hubli has not been completely smooth sailing. Last night, I felt discriminated against for my gender for the first time. Although I have experienced gender differences in other countries, I have never been so blatantly disrespected. We went to the a local restaurant, Piccolo, as a group last night. All the male GIP-ers were sitting in one table and the girls were split into two other tables. We were sitting in the ladies & family section which was acceptable. We were told that it happens in India to keep women away from men who are drinking and smoking. I can accept that. But when the guys were served food and we were for over an hour, that is unacceptable. In the end, we left the restaurant without eating the food that never came and went to another restaurant. I understand that we need to adapt to the culture to gain trust and build rapport. However, there are certain instances when one should stand her ground and this was one of those occasion. I don't intend on pushing my feminist tendencies on other people. I have no objections to the traditional role of a woman; many women embraced that care giver role. However, I don't believe that I should "get used to" being treated as lesser-than men in this country.

India - Little Crises and Little Victories

I have been in India for over two weeks now. I arrived in Chennai International Airport, which was a disappointment, on May 24th then I flew to the Andaman Islands to complete my Advanced PADI Open Water certification. There was a great deal of anticipation and anxiety; I was in India by myself for three days. I was navigating through the Chennai airport and immediately had my personal space invaded while waiting in line to check in for my flight to Port Blair. It was India. After I completed my dive course, I returned to Chennai Airport to meet up with Zlatan and Candice, fellow Global Impact-ers. We were going to traveling South India to see the major sights before starting the program in Hubli. The picture above is one of us in the crowded unreserved section of the train from Pondicherry to Trichy. It was one of the rawest experience. People were piled up everywhere from the people lying and sitting on the ground to people up in the luggage racks.

Despite our crazy train ride, there was a silver lining. We were met with kindness on the train. A family helped put my giant backpacker backpack underneath their seats. Traveling through Tamil Nadu, I was treated with far more

kindness than any other countries I have ever been to. When we wandered around Madurai's bus stand looking for our bus to Kumily, a stranger came to helped us. He went out of his way to show us the correct bus and before we could thank him, he disappeared into the crowd of people and exhaust. We relied on the kindness of strangers everyday especially with the language barrier. Every small act of kindness whether it is a kind smile from a stranger on a bus or a wave from children draws me closer to India and the people here.

From Tamil Nadu, we entered Kerala, nicknamed God's Own Country for its beauty. In Kerala, we were brought closer to the locals when we did a village tour of the backwater. The humble home of Anthony reminded me of my grandmother's home in Hong Kong. It was a tattered little place before it was renovated. The progress of our children is built upon the hard work of our parents and grandparents. Anthony told us about his two daughters who were studying to be nurses and his son who is in university. In Kochi, I was speaking to a fisherman. He told me about his work and his family. The Chinese fishing nets were usually worked by six men. 30% of the profit goes to the owner of the fishing net and the remaining profit was shared among the six men. The average profit per day (of low season and high season) was 500 rupees; it is 25 rupees per person a day. It ended up being about $17 USD a month. It amazed me that a family can live on so little. I have been eating meals at the range of 40 rupees which is less than $1 USD. One meal for me was the daily income for a family. But I was torn when one of the workers asked for donation. I do not believe in donation in most circumstances because it is not a sustainable solution for the problem. I am interested in sustainable solution, not temporary solution to a perpetual challenge.

Being in India has been an incredibly humbling experience. It is so true about India -- it is a love/hate relationship. There have been some extreme lows and extreme highs during those two weeks. The most important thing to bring to India is a good sense of humor. Things will not go according plan. The only thing you can do is the Indian head wobble and say "This is India" and take a deep breath.