ART OF CONNECTION

We named them the "Rangoli Girls" last year. The women at Bambino School usually are helping with the children and doing chores around the school, but this afternoon they transformed the courtyard into a beautiful painting. The materials were wet chalk, rice powder, rock salt and pigments. They showed us how to create the rangoli and kolams, and encouraged our participation. Working together, we connected the lines, shapes and colors while at the same time, connecting with each other.

SUNRISE...IDEAL BEACH RESORT

Sunrise and sun saluations for me....waking up for the sunrise felt great. The feeling was calm and quiet, compared to the busy street noises of Chennai.

MULEE

At the Mamalapuram temple on Sunday, Heidi and I were befriended by a bright-eyed, young Gypsy boy who showed us the beach shortcut to the temple. Unlike the other Gypsies selling beads in a pleading and desperate manner, he was charming and didn't try to sell us anything. Instead, he asked many questions, and we entered into a bantering, relaxed conversation. He showed us his extensive coin collection and stayed with us or the group until we left the temple. We did buy some of his beads, which he discretely hid while on the temple grounds. Gypsies are not high in the Indian class hierarchy, and are persecuted here much the same way as they have been and still are in other areas of the world. Mulee was such a sparkling child, exuberant and endearing; he can't afford to go to school, yet he has a sharp intelligence and is so eager to learn. He really touch my heart, and every time I think of him, my eyes well up with tears as I wonder what will become of him.

FIRST GROUP PICTURE!

CONNECTION--IT'S IN THE EYES

That moment of connection that we seek when we meet new people, when we are introduced to a new culture. I have experienced that connection so often here in India. Whether it is watching our students work with their clients at their internship or whether it is while walking on the beach and hearing children call out "picture, picture!" I am not always aware of the connection in the moment, but when I look at the photos--there it is--in the eyes. That connection of human to human--soul to soul. We are in each others' world and have become a part of each other. There are children I photographed years ago who still remain a part of me--eyes to s0ul. I wish I could carry that into each moment, each interaction that I have with my students, people on the street, shopkeepers, auto rickshaw drivers--pursuing that connection--eyes to soul.

MY DAY IN THREE PICTURES

PRESENT MOMENT, WONDERFUL MOMENT

At my internship, I have struggled with the idea of communication, and how to do it. Because the patients speak primarily Tamil or Hindi, much of our dialogue has to be completed through a translator, which makes creating a therapeutic rapport nearly impossible....or so I thought. In the past few days, I have realized that the best gift I can give the women of The Banyon Tree is being present with them. Seeing, feeling, experiencing, and offering encouragement through smiles and gestures has helped me to be more present with them, and in turn help them to be more expressive and creative. For example, in four short days, I have witnessed a woman progress from filling in her mandala with only one color, to choosing three the next day, and then five the day after that, and then today coloring in her mandala with not only five different colors, but also filling in the space around the circle. The progress in expressiveness has been incredible.

Today when asking the women what made them excited, many of them said that it was US being there with them that made them feel excited. Hearing this made me feel an overwhelming sense of joy and gratitude. Little do these women know that the truly lucky person in the room is me, because I have the honor of being present in this wonderful moment with them.

MUTUAL LEARNING

Facilitating an in-service for teachers yesterday was exhilarating and rewarding for me, and hopefully for them as well. The group of 23 teachers of special needs kids jumped right into the art experiential, asked probing questions about art therapy and seemed to enjoy the process and interactions (of a different kind) with each other. The two students at the site also participated and were able to show some of the kids' art and talk a bit about the children they're seeing. They say here that "guests are like gods," meaning that it is part of the culture to make visitors feel at home. We certainly felt welcome and appreciated throughout the in-service, and left with many expressions of thanks.. The warmth, helpfulness and friendliness of people in Chennai has been the one thing that has been consistent through all that is inconsistent.

CITY OF GODS

A morning walking tour takes us through city streets that wind around humble traditional homes and breathtaking temples. Anchoring the bustling streets that surround it is the Kapaleeswarar temple. This Hindu shrine, dedicated to the God Shiva, keeps a watchful eye over the city of Chennai.
So many Gods and so little time... Even Shiva has thought of a solution for the modern worshipper! There is a spot in the far corner of the Kapaleeswarar temple that provides a perfect view of all the shrine rooftops within the temple walls. With a good view of all the Gods you can quickly offer your prayers and be on your way.

REDIRECTION

As a self-proclaimed photographer, I came to India eager to photograph the women in colorful sarees, innocent children, and market vendors. To my surprise, I feel extremely uncomfortable behind the camera, and am realizing that there is a fine line between capturing and exposing the people of Chennai. As I struggle to find a respectable balance, I am embracing the opportunity to redirect my lens to the fine details and vibrant colors of the land.

MARINA BEACH

ROOFTOP YOGA

Oftentimes the anticipation leading up to a trip like this one can be a whirlwind of planning, packing, laughing, hugging, crying, and last minute freaking out (thanks again to Amy's boyfriend, Bob, who managed to deliver her passport to Dulles Airport from Baltimore with ten minutes to spare before the airline counter closed!). As we set foot into Chennai, after traveling for nineteen hours by bus, plane, van, and foot, the kinesthetic aspects of this unique city forced all of us of us to stop, take a minute, and realize that we had reached our destination. Finally.

And suddenly, all of the creature comforts which I had so meticulously prepared for myself over the past few weeks seemed unnecessary. My perfectly portioned TSA approved toiletries, newly updated iPod playlist, and neurotically organized class binder then seemed superfluous. All I needed at that moment was food, water, and sleep (lots of it!) to nurture my mind and body. And yet, once my belly was full, thirst was quenched, and body was rested, I realized that there was still something missing. It was the marriage between the two. That's right, yoga. We are in India, after all!

Led by an MP3 of Bikram Yoga’s Beginning Series, six of us took full advantage of India’s climate by turning the apartment rooftop into a makeshift yoga studio (ok, so maybe the time spent updating my iPod playlist wasn’t completely for naught...).

Fun, challenging, and interesting for both the new and seasoned yogis in the bunch, our mini hot yoga session left me sitting peacefully with its closing remark of “Namaste,” which according to one interpretation means "I honor the Spirit in you which is also in me."

It is my hope that these next few weeks allow me to do just so with my classmates, professors, students, and staff members at Bambino school.

MOVIE STARS

Today was comprised of much hustle and bustle in the afternoon as we raced across the city competing against our classmates on a photo scavenger hunt across all of Chennai. As we struggled to find meanings and to make sense of the clues given to us, laughter was abundant and I certainly felt alive. Jumping in and out of our cars, buying flowers for our hair, juggling mangoes in the street, begging our driver to help us by giving us clues, convincing an autorickshaw driver that we were not going to steal his vehicle as we sat in the driver's seat and he sat in the back; we joined the life and movement of a town that only seems to stop for moments of prayer.

Among the constant movment it's still apparent how different we are than the culture around us. While leaving the mall during our hunt, a group of school-aged children ran up to us, showing off their English skills. Smiles were plentiful as they repeatedly shook my hand, taking turns using their English phrases from "Hello" to "How are you?" to other phrases that were probably taught in an elementary English class. I felt like a movie star, with all the attention they were giving. Chennai is certainly a city with constant movement and how wonderful it is to be a part of it.

CHENNAI PHOTO HUNT

Beth, Kate, Karie and Amy
solve cultural clues and take photos for proof of their solution.

QUESTIONS REMAIN

To the left is a picture of a group of young children enjoying the sunshine at the National Shrine of St. Thomas Basilica. Their happiness and joy help me get through the hard sites and experiences of India. Today on the streets there was a young woman, begging, holding her young baby. She asked each person individually through sign language to be given money or food. As each person said no, she waited...and waited...and waited. As I sat there with her standing near me, I wondered what am I doing here? What can I give without giving money? How can I express that I care and does ignoring and dismissing show her this? Is there another way of being and acting? Can I show her my heart even if it means going against the grain? How do I sit with and acknowledge all the feelings, all the pain and also all the joy that comes with the differences in our lives...is it even possible?

EVOLVING CULTURE

It's 3 AM on Saturday morning and I can't sleep. I woke up with my mind flooded with thoughts about my own culture and how I came to be me, sitting right here, in this exact chair, at this exact moment. Everyone else is sleeping, and I wish I was too because we have a long day ahead of us of sightseeing and walking in this dirty and polluted city. Chennai is only the fourth largest city in India, I can't even begin to imagine how dirty a city like Mumbai is.

We started giving our personal history presentations last night, and I am blown away at how complex, interesting and deeply personal culture is to every single person here. I feel blessed to be able to listen to each person's story of how they became who they are, sitting right there, in that exact chair, at that exact moment. I am thinking about how fluid culture is, and how it never sits still. It may look the same from day to day and have the same physical qualities as it did yesterday, but just like a mountain changes everyday simply because the wind and rain constantly picks up and moves rocks and particles of dirt and is never the same from moment to moment, culture is constantly evolving. We all are constantly evolving- even if we want to stay exactly the same, we can't.

It seems to me that there is no clear line that separates different cultures, and that culture is made up of the collective memories, experiences and rituals of all of our ancestors and all of us living today. As different as India and the U.S. seem on the surface, you can't deny the fact that India has been influenced by the U.S., and vice versa.

Lisa talked about privilege yesterday during our art making ritual, and what it means to be privileged. I am wondering what it means too, and how to make amends with my feelings of guilt associated with it, and whether or not I should even try to make amends with that feeling. Even guilt itself seems to be privileged. Kim had mentioned feeling uncomfortable about the three Indian men that live in our apartments who serve us, clean up after us, and cook for us, all while remaining as silent and as invisible as possible. In fact, one of them is most likely sleeping on the kitchen floor or counter right this moment. Why does he have to sleep on the hard kitchen floor in the humid heat, while I get to sleep in a comfortable bed. A simple answer might be because I happened to be born a U.S. citizen and he was not, but it goes beyond that and I am trying to sort it out. It would probably be easier and more comfortable not to think about it at all, but that seems impossible now.

MORNING WALK

I woke up in the middle of the night, convinced I had been sleeping forever. When I checked the time, it was only 12:45 AM. My mind raced, I tossed and turned, fell in and out of sleep, and then finally I heard my roommate Anne whisper, "Lauren, are you awake?" We spent a while talking, and then decided to take a walk at about 6:30 AM.

As we walked out onto the street, Chennai was waking up. Women were walking through the streets in their brightly colored saris, man and women threading jasmine, and people praying in their extensively decorated temples. The most striking thing I witnessed this morning was the extreme poverty. I did not understand how truly bad it was. People were cleaning the sidewalks, which consisted of sweeping the dirt into the street. Women were begging for money for their children, and people were sleeping in the dirt covered streets. I felt overwhelmed with sadness by the sights I saw. But amidst the dirt and garbage, I saw color, spirituality, and happiness.

MEETING PERFECT STRANGERS

Although the flight was lengthy, it was surprisingly comfortable. The flight attendants of Qatar Airways were so courteous and were exceptionally hospitable. I struck up conversations on the plane with nearby passengers. There was a Bangladeshi woman named Parvin that was happy to explain the main exports of Bangladesh, and explained the significance of International Mother Language Day held annually February 21. I also met a man named Ahmed who was studying Medicine at the University of Maryland on a fellowship, traveling back home to Doha, Qatar because his fellowship ended. Both advised me to shy away from spicy foods because my stomach was not used to it and I was grateful for this information.

Our next flight from Doha, Qatar would be delayed but we made it to Chennai, India. While in flight, I met a woman named Jaseema from Paris, France who was traveling to Chennai to visit her mother and was kind enough to share her Haribo Tagada candies with me while we discussed Barack Obama's presidency. She invited me to visit Paris, France because of its beauty. I also met a young lady around my age who was studying for her International baccalaureate degree in Geneva, Switzerland who would be visiting her grandmother in Chennai. Although thousands of miles apart, I found that we shared some of the same interests in music and in hobbies and exchanged contact information to keep in touch. So far, I was enjoying myself because on a normal day I am not inclined to generate conversations with perfect strangers.

Cheers from Chennai,

Meah Tweh

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Arrival

The students arrived today and Lisa and I arose to greet them at the airport at 2:30am. They were tired but eager to begin their adventures, piling into vans, asking questions, and commenting on views out the window. We had orientation, went over the schedule for the next three weeks and they are currently in their beds sleeping off the effects of jetlag and culture shock. Tomorrow we begin class and Saturday and Sunday are filled with sightseeing, exploring Chennai and a lovely dinner at the owner of our B&B's beachside house to celebrate the Fourth of July.

Meanwhile, Lisa and I continue to perform a comedy skit on the streets of Chennai in search of a local grocery named "Amma Nana." For some reason we cannot get the pronunciation correct and yesterday while attempting to ask an auto rickshaw driver if he knew how to get there, we attracted a group of very helpful people--all of us were saying the same thing but no one was understanding each other "AAAAmma nana," aMMManNana," amaNAAna," to the point where we sounded like the infamous Muppet's "Manamana" song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wM89T74MPnE

Perhaps breaking into song would have helped! :)