Mumbai

A few quick wiki-facts:
- Mumbai is the 2nd most populous city in the world with a population of 14 million
- It was formerly named Bombay
- Mumbai is the home of Bollywood
- Mumbai generates 70% of India's capital transactions

We were invited to attend a one day conference at the Orchid Hotel in Mumbai sponsored by the ETS (Education Testing Services) for English teachers that help students prepare for the TOEFL exam. These are the same people that design and administer the SAT, PSAT and GRE. We arrived in Mumbai on Tuesday afternoon, and with the conference starting the next morning, we had the rest of the afternoon and night to do what we pleased. Emily had been to Mumbai just a few days ago during the weekend, so we trusted her to take us to a few places she thought would be fun to visit.

First on the itinerary was the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf in the Bandra area of Mumbai, which had a very Starbucks-esque ambience. I wasn't feeling too adventurous (or willing to pay Rs. 190 = $4 for a dessert drink) so I just opted for the brew of the day. I hadn't had real, brewed coffee in several weeks so I'll admit I did end up feeling a little jittery but the taste of familiar coffee really hit the spot. At the cafe, we struck a conversation with a pastor, whose name was Mark, of a church in Mumbai and Scott, a freelance photographer from Indiana working with Mark. I was really interested in knowing more about his church, its worship and mission, and a little bit into our conversation, he told me that the church is actually connected to Redeemer Presbyterian in New York! What a small world! I told him eagerly that the next time I'm in Mumbai over a weekend, which hopefully isn't too far from now, I would definitely drop by for service on Sunday morning. What also really surprised me was that everyone, including Westerners and local Indians, spoke English. Before I left the states, a lot of people asked me why I was being sent to India to teach English since most Indians already know how to speak English. I'd respond by saying that where I was posted in Kadod, less than 5% of the student population know English. Hearing Indians in Mumbai use English as their go-to language in conversation just blew my mind, but at the same time, what would you expect of people who began learning English since the year they began going to school?
After waiting out a torrential rain shower, we had a rickshaw take us to the train station where we'd take a local train to Kolaba, known for some fine-dining restaurants and street-side shopping. Wow. I don't know what else to say. Just watch the video.


Our mission, to find the Indigo Delicatessen, ended up being a much harder task than we anticipated. Every store owner, street vendor, or random passerby we asked gave us different directions. We were certain that many people didn't know their rights from their lefts. I swear we passed the same corner at least 5 times after rounding a couple blocks several more times before, finally, we got to our destination. All I have to say is that all the searching, walking, and waiting was well worth it. At the top of the entrees menu was a sirloin beef burger with lettuce, onions, spicy mustard, and a special, home-made sauce. I didn't have to read much further before making my decision. I just can't describe in words the overwhelming sensation of bliss I experienced after taking my first jaw-stretching bite out of that burger. There was no decreasing marginal returns for my enjoyment while I ate that dinner. Each bite only tasted better than the last. But it's true, good things never last, and taking my last bite felt like saying goodbye to an old friend.

With satisfied stomachs, we made our way to the Mondegar Cafe, a bar heavily frequented by travelers. They really did a good job making the place feel like a bar back in the states. It was crowded, noisy, and even had a jukebox going with American music. It was getting late, but we weren't in any rush. We played a few games of categories, "Never Have I Ever," and my favorite, 3-player mafia. The night ended when we headed to Priya's cousin's apartment, which he was so nice to let us stay in for our short stay in Mumbai.

All in all, I can't wait to come back to Mumbai. There are so many more parts of the city for me to see and so many more things I could do. Apparently, for about $12, I can spend a day at the site of a Bollywood film company and be an extra in a Bollywood movie, all meals provided. Maybe it could be my big break!

Weekend in Valsad

Before our last class on Saturday, Yogesh says to me in the staffroom, "I am very happy if you come with me to Valsad meet my friends and their families." The timing of his invitation couldn't have been better. I was really feeling like I needed to get away from Kadod for a little while, and plus, it had been some time since I explored other parts of Gujarat.

Since Valsad was a far-ish trip (2.5 hours), he decided that we'd stay for Saturday and Sunday and come back some time on Sunday night. In absolute, complete honesty, I loved every part of this weekend from spending more time with Yogesh, meeting people my age for a change, downing cup after cup chai at every house we visited, and eating amazing, authentic, home-cooked Gujarati food.

We made a trip out to a beach of the Arabian Sea on the outskirts of Valsad. Even though the "sand" was still India's typical alluvial soil, it was a huge improvement from the Surat debacle about a month ago. We walked up and down the shore, played a game of tag (that only made me realize how out of shape I am), and I rode my first camel!

I'm still so blown away by the way people open their doors and go out of their way to make me feel comfortable, at home, and welcome. No matter how much I would try to thankfully decline their offers of food, snack after snack and dish after dish were passing in front of me like an assembly line. When I start talking about my family, I feel like we start playing a game of 20 (or more like 50) questions because of how interested they are about knowing more about me. What sums it up was what one of Yogesh's friends said when we visited her house on Sunday. "Here, you have a new family."

Enjoy some more videos!

Learning an Indian Gesture

There's a gesture that people use all the time here. Imagine putting the fingertips of your right hand close to your mouth and then throw your hand forward while flicking your fingers out. It's something that I see over and over again, but I never asked anyone what it meant until yesterday. I needed to make a couple photocopies, and Yogesh told me he'd ask a school worker to get it done for me. He called over Vikrum, one of the funnier workers, and began talking to him in Gujarati. After a few seconds, Vikrum walked away laughing, and Yogesh did the gesture in Vikrum's direction.

"Yogesh, why did you do that gesture?" I was expecting him to answer with some comments on Indian culture or customs, maybe remarks on how it's a multi-faceted expression, but instead, this is all he said.
"I did because Vikrum is useless."

Not related, but a picture from dinner at a nearby temple last night! Me with some of Vimulbhai's family.

A Day with Yogeshbhai

After the half-day of classes on Saturday, I was invited to go to Bardoli, where my co-teacher, Yogeshbhai, is from. I was really looking forward for some time away, and I couldn't have asked for a better host than Yogesh. The first thing he did was sit me down in his house and have lunch with him. He brought out the plates, and I thought my eyes deceived me. It was FISH. I showered his mom over and over again with compliments on how delicious the meal tasted, and every time, she would just flick her hand at me, laugh, and say that I needed to stop talking and keep eating.

After eating to our heart's content, we stepped over to the living room, and Yogesh said, "Now, we rest." With a cricket game playing on the TV, he took out collections of pictures he had of his family, his sister's wedding, and his friends. I told him that he hardly looks any different now than he did when he was little. Regardless, every time I flipped to a picture with him in it, he would point and say, "There, me."

Together with his parents and cousin, we spent time talking and getting to know each other. His cousin, Wilson, is in the 11th standard in the science track at his high school, and he got really excited when I told him that I was studying for the MCAT at the moment. After sharing chai, I said my goodbyes, mixed in with a few more compliments about the lunch, then Yogesh took me to the Sardar Patel Museum in Bardoli. The museum was constructed in honor of Sardar Patel, one of the prominent freedom fighters during India's struggle for independence. The museum curator gave us a brief tour, highlighting the many ways that Gujarat was possibly the center of the movement toward independence with Gandhi's Salt March and the Bardoli Satyagarha being two notable events happening in the state.



Our day ended in a dessert store having mango lassis with a few of Yogesh's friends that he wanted me to meet. He told me that his "day was really happy" because I came to Bardoli with him, and I said that the feeling was completely mutual. On the bus ride back home, I realized how grateful I should be to have a co-teacher that makes such an effort to extend his friendship to me. It's because of people like him and others here that I have yet to feel like I'm all alone halfway across the world from everything I was familiar with. Here are some more pictures I snapped from the day in Bardoli!

Kitchen Fire? No Tension

It was right around 10:00pm last night. I was doing some work on my computer when suddenly, the lights began to flicker in my room. "Great," I thought because this was probably a sign that the power was about to go out. A few seconds later, lo and behold, the lights cut off and the fans stopped running. I was thinking about how it might turn into a long night sleeping without working fans, but then I noticed a bright light still flickering in the kitchen. I got up to check it out when suddenly, someone in the other room yelled "Guys, there's a fire in the kitchen!"

I ran into the kitchen, and sure enough, the two battery generators on the kitchen counter in the corner of the room were in flames. We rushed out of the house and yelled at the principal's house that our kitchen was on fire. The principal's son was the first on the scene, followed by the school's security guard. Water and sand were brought to put out the flames, but by the time they were put out, the house was filled with smoke and battery acid fumes. A couple weeks ago, a propane tank had been moved out of the kitchen which used to sit right underneath the generators. Who knows what would've happened if the tank had still been there during the fire. Standing outside the house, we decided that we needed another place to stay for the night. At about this time, Zach came home, and the principal greeted him by saying, "There was a fire," as calmly as he would talk to us about class schedules. "Is everyone alright??" Zach asked. Principal Mahida responded, "I am fine. Your house is not."

We stayed the night at Vimulbhai's, who graciously offered their living room and spare mats for us to sleep on. We spent a few hours talking, sharing stories, playing funny Indian games, and enjoying some snacks and drinks before going to sleep. He told us about how he was the most mischievous students at Kadod High School back in the day, putting "Donkey for sale" signs on teachers' backs and driving a motorcycle around the school courtyard during classes just to name a couple of his antics. At one point during the night, Vimulbhai told us that life is too short to worry and not enjoy every minute that we're given. His life motto, he said, was to have no tension. We would laugh every time he said that, but it was really reassuring for me to hear that especially after what had happened earlier that night. We're in India, no tension.

Year of Education

After my first two periods yesterday morning, I sat down in the staff room ready to enjoy the first chai break, and I noticed at the other end of the table two men in what seemed to be military uniform. Interesting, I thought. I took a sip of the chai, which was still very hot, when two students, also dressed in uniform, ran through the hallway outside of the staffroom. My first thought was that some sort of draft had started, and I was just out of the loop. I noticed that there were even more uniformed students walking across the grounds towards the back of the school where they normally have recess. I was extremely curious, and I had a free period, so I decided to see what was going on behind the school.

My first guess didn't turn out to be right. It wasn't a draft. One of the teachers that was helping organize the students explained to me that the governor of Gujarat declared 2010-11 as the Year of Education. One of the initiatives associated with this declaration was sending military personnel to schools across the state in order to lead rallies of students through their local cities, villages, and towns. With banners and sign posts in hand, the students were practicing chants that, interestingly, were mostly do with family sizes. When families have too many children, resources become too thinned, and parents resort to taking their children out of school early in order for them to work in their family business or on a farm.

I snapped a few pictures and was ready to head back to finish my chai (the heat was starting to bear down on me without protection from the glaring sun). All of a sudden, Principal Mahida put his hand on my shoulder and asked if I wanted to join the students on their rally through Kadod. Some of the students that I teach got really excited and started yelling "Sir, yes! Sir, yes!" making room for me in the line. How could I say no?

To be honest though, I was so grateful that I was able to join the students in their rally. Walking alongside the same students that I teach, trying my best to follow their chants, I think I might have come a few steps closer to understanding why I'm here beyond just getting students through another year of English class. The students were taught yesterday that education is something completely worth screaming about and hopefully getting heard in the process. I was glad I was there to show them that I believe the same thing.

Seeing the smiling, entertained faces of onlookers throughout the town, I got this sense that people do understand the value and importance of education. I have to confess that I was quick to blame poorer families for neglecting a child's education just because it's assumed that they're going to be working just as their parents, and their parents' parents, did. Most of us grew up not having to worry about having a next meal or not, and we were taught that the worst possible thing is to stifle someone of opportunity. What if a family's decision to stop their child's schooling is not even choice, but a necessity? I found more food for thought to digest.

Here are more pictures and a video from the rally!

Recipe: Pakora

For those of you that don't know already, my meals have mainly consisted of food brought to my house made in the school hostel kitchen. While at first, I found the food exciting and interesting for its novelty, the same dish of rice, chapati, and dal have made my taste buds crave for something new. It's for this reason that I decided to try my hand at cooking some local dishes. I've already gotten several offers from people willing to teach me a thing or two, and as they teach me, I want to teach you guys!

Let's begin with a really simple, yet delicious, dish called pakora. To be honest, of all the food I've tried so far in India, pakora still remains at the top of the rankings. Thank you to Vimulbhai's family for offering to help me learn to cook and offering their kitchen as a classroom! I'm sorry if the recipe is hard to read/use. I promise to try to improve on them as the year continues!

Vegetable Pakora
Serves: 4
Preparation Time: 10 minutes
Cooking Time: 15 minutes

Ingredients:
1.5 cups chickpea flour (You can find this at Asian grocery stories, especially if they have an Indian section. Substituting with regular flour is ok, but will affect the taste)
2 medium sized onions
2 tablespoons minced small green chili peppers (food processor works best to bring out the flavor)
1/2 tablespoon baking soda
1 tablespoon salt
1-2 cups water
vegetable oil (amount will vary)

Instructions:
1. Finely dice the onions.
2. If you have a sifter, sift chickpea flour into a separate plate. If you don't have a sifter, do your best to breakdown clumps of flour. The finer the flour gets, the better the consistency will be at the end.
3. In a large bowl, combine the flour, baking soda, and diced onions.

4. While kneading, add water in 1/4 cup increments. Stop adding water once the batter becomes thick and smooth (not clumpy).
5. Mix in the minced green chili pepper and salt.
6. Either in a deep fryer or a deep pan, heat vegetable oil on medium-high heat. Oil should be at least 2 inches deep at its deepest point if you're using a pan. To test if oil is hot enough, add a small amount of batter to the oil. If the batter begins to fry and floats to the top only after a few seconds, the oil is ready.
7. To drop pakora batter into the oil, you can either use your hand or two spoons. Using your hand, scoop out a little less than a tablespoon of the batter mixture. Refer to the picture below to see where the batter should be positioned. Suspend your hand over the oil (not too high or oil will splatter) and use your thumb to push out the batter into the oil. It takes a little practice to get it them to turn out nice and ball-shaped.
8. Continue to add pakora balls until the surface of the oil is just about covered.
9. Fry for 3 minutes or until they become a darker golden brown (but not crispy). Flip over the pakora in the oil after the 1st minute. If you remove them when they just become golden brown, the insides might still have uncooked batter.
10. Let them cool slightly, the enjoy! Be creative with a dipping sauce! Ketchup is always served with pakora here, but I think a mango chutney would be perfect with it.
I hope you guys will enjoy cooking and eating this dish as much as I did! Look forward to more recipes soon! Here's a video showing the pakora dropping technique that I still have to work on.

Extra Power?

After Saturday classes, I went out into town with a small shopping list but decided to stop by and chat with my friend, our neighborhood tailor. We were sharing chai in the back of his shop, and he was describing how he makes chai back at his house. For the most part, I was able to piece together what he was telling me in Hindi until he started describing his favorite, special ingredient.

"_____ kya hai?" I asked, which means "What is _____?"
"Oh, best ingredient. Extra power!" he replied.

Every time he said the words "extra power," he winked and made an A-OK gesture with his hand. I was extremely confused, but he was so adamant about me knowing his favorite ingredient that he would use more and more complicated Hindi which, of course, did not help. "Extra power!" he kept repeating. Finally, he grabbed a pen and paper and drew what he was trying to describe. He wasn't even halfway finished drawing when I realized what it was. Marijuana. Extra power!

He assured me that he only uses a pinch (however much that is) to make several cups. After a hard day at work, I wonder if he still only uses a pinch. Because the way he says "extra power," winks, and gives me the A-OK sign is so hysterical, this post will hopefully be updated on Monday with an in-person interview when I ask him how he makes his special chai.

Leopard Attack

For the past couple of years, Kadod and nearby villages have had a leopard problem. I was made aware of this a few weeks ago. Every now and then, either someone will venture too far into the jungle or a leopard will find a way into someone's home, but in any case, the result is often not too favorable for team humans. Luckily, no one has yet to be killed by a leopard (please, knock on the nearest wood).

It was another normal day for a family in their house just a couple of kilometers outside of Kadod proper. The mother of the household was out in the market, leaving her 2 year old son, husband and father at home. It was around 4pm when the father heard a commotion in the kitchen at the back of the house. He froze at the doorway when he was met by the eyes of a full-grown male leopard. What transpired in the next few seconds is hardly believable. While screaming at his father-in-law to grab an axe, he lunged at the leopard with one of his elbows pointing outward. The leopard clenched his teeth on the father's elbow and began viciously gnawing away. Using all his strength to keep the leopard's head stationary, he screamed for his father-in-law to swing at the leopard's head with the axe. After a few decisive blows, the leopard was killed.

After replaying the story in my mind several times, I couldn't think of anything else the father could have done to protect his family, especially his two year old son. Throwing a chair or some other object would probably have just provoked the leopard, and running would probably have been a worse option. I think it's incredible that he was able to make the split-second decision to sacrifice himself for the sake of the people he loved. When the son grows up, I hope he'll always value and appreciate his dad's bravery and love.

How to Survive a Bear Attack: Could I substitute bear for leopard if I came back home to a leopard in the kitchen? What do you guys think? (thanks HY for the great advice!)

Snow.. er.. High Gas Prices.. Day

After a decision by the National Congress to lift government regulations controlling fuel prices, Hindu nationalist parties and organizations rallied to show their opposition by declaring a nationwide strike today. How that affected me? I woke up extra early to prepare for Spoken English class. Emily pokes her head in my room 20 minutes before class saying that classes were canceled today.

After I spent the rest of the morning reading and studying a bit, we decided to head out to enjoy mango lassis at our favorite Kadod dessert shop, Rajasthan. We didn't walk halfway up the main road before we decided to just stop and turn. Not a single store was open for business. Every little shop, the tailor's, food stands, and even the men and women that line the streets selling fruits were observing the day-long strike. All I wanted was one mango lassi...

I'm not really used to holidays like this, but maybe it's something I'll have to start getting used to.

Read more about the strike here:
Opposition Strike Over High Fuel Prices Bites - Reuters
Strikes Over High Gas Prices Spread Across India - CNN

Geckos, My New Friends

When I learned that geckos will eat the insects in our bedroom, they've become some of my new best friends. Zach and I are mesmerized by their agility, cunning, and masterful execution. We think this clip may have a spot in the next Planet Earth.

Grappling with Corporal Punishment

Gujarat is well-known for being one of the states of India that most firmly holds onto conservative values. In fact, Gujarat is India's only "dry-state" in which the consumption or possession of alcohol is illegal at any age. I don't mean to make the assumption that a society's tolerance of peoples' inebriation is a sign of liberalness, but I just use it as an example that I think highlights a larger trend.

I get more of a glimpse into this character of Gujarat and, more specifically, Kadod when I see how students are disciplined at school. I remember during training back in New York when we were told to prepare ourselves to witness teachers using more physical methods of punishment than we're used to in the states. Without much further explanation, I expected the kind of disciplining when a student might perhaps have to stand in front of the class for an extended amount of time, or a teacher might hit students' hands or rear ends with a ruler.

To say the least, my first experience seeing a teacher beat a student in the middle of the school courtyard jarred me and made my head spin for a few hours. At the beginning of a class's assigned recess period, students file out of their room in a straight line and head to the recess area. One thirsty boy jumped momentarily out of the line to get some water just a few feet from where they were walking. A teacher saw what the student did, grabbed his arm with one hand, and began giving the kid blow after blow on the head with his other hand. I could hear each hit, and I was standing at least 100 feet away.

Being sent to the principal's office has a completely different meaning to the students here. Compared to what the principal does to misbehaved students, what the teacher did to the thirsty student is like getting pat on the back. Yogeshbhai and I were teaching a 9th standard class during which Yogesh caught a back-row student chewing tobacco. Yogesh sent him immediately to the principal's office. The student didn't return for at least 20 minutes, and when he did, I'd never seen someone look so defeated and demoralized. All the boy could do was slump back into his bench and keep his head down for the remainder of class.

More recently, I taught a class where Yogesh, seemingly out of nowhere, smacked a student twice across the face with the palm of his hand. I tried to finish teaching without sounding completely unnerved and rattled, but in the inside I was horrified. After class, I asked Yogesh why he had hit the kid, and he replied, "Because he was playing with a roll of tape under his desk." Whatever happened to giving students warnings?

I came to Kadod with the understanding that there were going to be a lot of things that would be different and that I would simply have to learn how to adapt. Eating with only my right hand, keeping our house doors open for visitors, and not eating any meat just to name a few. But this degree of corporal punishment is really hard to swallow. I see it happen and something inside of me wrenches every time. A rational, logical side of me says that it's culture, and it's different from my own. Honestly, I don't know where to begin making any conclusions.