ISP Jamkhed style!

Namaskar jis - I am back in Delhi now after spending the last three and a half weeks on my return to Jamkhed for my Independent Study Project. The ISP is the aspect that SIT uses as a selling point for all of their programs: three and a half weeks in a location of the student's choosing (as long as it is in-country) on a topic of their choice. SIT uses all of its connections to help students design a research project that they find interesting and also will provide enough fodder for a 30-page research paper and project for the end of the term (which is what I should be writing right now instead of doing this blog entry). It is supposed to be the time when you apply what you've learned in the Field Study Seminar, in the Health and Human Rights Seminar, and even from Hindi class, and throw them all together and fly solo as a student and researcher in a country that used to feel so new and uncomfortable, but now you hope you finally have some small handle on it.

The ISP is really more of an exercise in research than research itself: real qualitative research is usually done over a much longer period of time with a much larger pool of interviewees than a near-month allows us. However, a lot of kids use the ISP as a basis for their senior theses, and it's good practice even if you can't get it to count for anything at your home institution - in order to get good at researching, you've got to get out there and, well, research!

It's amazing comparing what I thought about the ISP when I first got here to how I feel now... when I first got to India and other girls were talking excitedly about the ISP, and how they wanted to travel all over and see as much of India as these months would allow, I was pretty nervous. All I wanted to do was get settled in my homestay and adjust to the life and schoolwork that I was expecting... I was nervous about a new country and new food and crazy traffic and a foreign language and pretty much never knowing what exactly was going on. Too nervous to plan weekend trips, because I was anxious enough about learning how to adjust to my new surroundings to go find newer ones. I've learned that it's a feeling you need to learn to love.You have to learn to love the challenge of taking risks and figuring out something new and putting yourself out there. I remember one girl saying that if she didn't get to Mumbai on this trip, she'd be really sad... and all I could think was that I was content getting to know what was directly around me... and now here I am booking plane tickets around the country on my own! (for getting back to Delhi from south India). I definitely feel more confident in my ability to get myself around these days, and I do think I've developed that love for feeling ust a liiiiiittle bit uncomfortable, because the potential for reward keeps me coming back.

So on that note.. I guess now is a good a time as any to say that I have officially extended my stay in India! My program end date is May 16, the day that I was supposed to be leaving India, but I am now leaving sixteen days later, on June 1. As it has gotten hotter and hotter and as I have felt more homesick, I've been feeling a little self-conscious of the decision, but I am SO excited to travel around north India and see some elephants. Also, my homestay family has said that I can stay with them a little longer :) I'm excited about having a little more time with them. My friend Nisha and her mom will be travelling around at the same time, so we're going to come up with lists of what we both want to do before we leave the country and plan an itinerary! And it's in 12 days, so we had better hurry...

(I wrote this part when I was still in Jamkhed, hence the present tense...):

So... Jamkhed. Jamkhed is a lot of things. Hot is the word that easily comes to mind... it hit around 103 F here yesterday. You pretty much can't do anything between 1-4pm except nap and stay inside and pretend to be cold. There is no air conditioning, so we have taken to showering multiple times a day and laying under the fan for some relief. The four of us from SIT are staying on the CRHP campus in one apartment, and to be honest, we're a little bored. This place is absolutely ideal for research, but lacking in other ways... we have all blown through novels, played a lot of board games, and take a little time almost everyday to tan on the roof. But don't get me wrong - it's not all boring! The people I have met here are fantastic, and my research has been great. I'm doing a project on the caste system and the health interventions CRHP uses to break down its barrier. I've interviewed six people and then had two group interviews/focus groups with ten more in each. I've also done a lot of observing - watching the organization in action and taking copious notes. They also have a great public health library that is sorted by subject matter, which has really helped in putting things together and getting some secondary sources to accompany the small-scale research I have been able to do here, though to be honest, it's difficult to not just use the secondary resources via Google Scholar, which requires less physical research... how spoiled these databases have made student researchers!

Unfortunately since I'm back in Delhi now and for the first time since I started this blog have left three and a half weeks go by, it is impossible to be as thorough about my experiences as I have been in the past. I will do my best to recount the highlights of my stay in Jamkhedin retrospect :)

Daily life was pretty standard: breakfast at 8:30 (which I usually skipped...), lunch at 1:30, dinner at 8. We stayed in an apartment on the campus which is right outside of the main part of Jamkhed town, home to 30,000 people, and on weekends, 60,000 if you count people coming to market from nearby villages. The campus has a GIANT, modern hospital which seems completely juxtaposed against a background of rural nothingness. Other buildings include the staff residences, the mess hall, Dr.Shobha's house (on the roof of which we had a few celebratory dinners), the training center where we conducted interviews, and the administration building/old hospital where we had a few meetings with the staff. At dinner, we would meet with with Ravi and plan the next day's events, decided who was going out with the Mobile Health Team to villages or was staying back to research or would be conducting an interview in house, etc. Usually Jamkhed is filled with people taking a training course or visiting the campus, but since it is so hot, almost no one visits in May (...). This made us lucky because we got so much attention from the staff, and so very unlucky for obvious reasons...

And it's true: we had a LOT of down time. But I had a lot of exciting experiences that really balanced that part out! I watched babies be born, I conducted interviews in Marathi with a translator (Hindi is not the colloquial language in most of South India), I had lunch in a village... I'll try to recount a little bit..

During our first week, we were leaving the mess hall after lunch, when Ravi came in and told us to run over to the hospital if we wanted to watch two c-sections back to back. We flew there, removed our shoes, covered our faces, and walked right into the OR! This was probably because, once again on this trip, we were confused for being more important than we actually are, and I think they thought we were medical students, so brought us right in the action to watch the scalpel go right across the first mother's stomach... from about two feet away. I will save you all the gruesome details... but I will say that I learned quickly that it is not the sight of the surgery that makes me sick... it is the sound. The sound of organs getting moved around, skin getting cut and stretched, clamps and retractors pulling and holding. The sound is more than I can take. I stood under the tiny air conditioner at the foot of the gurney, trying not to pass out, and watched as they pulled the baby girl from her mother. It was WILD. absolutely wild. I have never seen anything like that or felt like I did in that moment in my entire life (maybe you can blame the maternal instinct?). We followed the baby over to a table where they were cleaning her up. The whole thing was a lot more colorful than I expected... when you hear "surgery," you think red.. but really it is red and green and blue and purple and yellow... it was also a lot more violent. When they pulled the baby out, it wasn't like a gentle life out of the uterus; it was a dig and a tug and a yank as she came out screaming from her warm little spot and into the world..

At the table, the nurse pulled out a suction tube and evacuated the nostrils and esophagus of her tiny little mouth and nose. Another nurse brought over a tub and Katrina got to wash off the baby and hold her for the first time. The doctors stitched up Momma #1 with her uterus outside of her body, flipped up on her stomach, and then had to sew up the seven layers of organ and muscle and skin that keep everything all together. They wheeled her out, and we carried the baby to the ICU where Anna got to give the baby to the family. Though we hear so much about female foeticide and how the girl child is worth so much less to Indians, this family looked ecstatic and it was nice to see.

We headed back to the OR for Caesarian number 2... before the mother was under, we looked at one another and in that moment I wish I could have said something... i don't speak much Marathi, but a "good luck" or something? I mean, what do you say to a woman whose insides you are about to see splayed out on a table??? We just kind of looked at one another and smiled.. it was a strange moment. Her daughter was born about 20 minutes later, and this time I gave her a bath. The nurse tried to hand me the suction tube but I wanted more practiced hands to have that particular responsibility... I know kids are hardy and it's not that simple to mess them up, but if she had an obstructed airway, I didn't want to be the sole person with the responsibility of removing it. The baby was covered in a white waxy substance which we were instructed to not remove as it keeps the baby warm in the first two days of life. I swaddled and held her, occasionally flicking her foot so she would cry and I would know everything was ok. Standing in that OR in the ungodly heat with a newborn village baby in my arms... that will be a moment that will stay with me. I handed her to Anna and she opened her eyes for the first time! GIANT blue eyes looking around as she made another sour face and cried and cried with another foot flick. Beautiful.

However... you're not supposed to say "what a beautiful baby!" to villagers here. It's an old superstition... it wold be kind of like saying "good luck" instead of "break a leg" to a performer before they go on stage. Not that you should tell new mothers "break a leg" but I think you get what I mean. Just another example of how complicated the language/culture barrier is...

That Saturday they took us to a cattle market, where we got to see all of the bulls dressed up for sale. We also saw the method of keeping meat goats from running away: there's no place to stake them down, so they just tie them all hopelessly together. I felt bad for them, but hopefully their suffering will be short and they'll be somebody's dinner soon. (?)

I got briefly lost in the vegetable market. I thought I was following the guide, watching my feet to make sure I didn't step in something questionable (or, rather, that I stepped on the rare bits of "unquestionable" surface) and I looked up and realized I was just being some old guy who seemed to be very happy that I was following him.Whoops. I bought some grapes to freeze back in the apartment and just chilled by the van until we were reunited. It felt pretty dumb.. and I guess it was. Lesson learned: watch your footing, but look out for the big picture.... pretty good life lesson, I think.

Research-wise, my first week was a little bit unsuccessful. I got bogged down when I tried to do my first interview, because my translator was inserting his own opinion, and was very defensive over CRHP's model when I was asking questions about the caste system. I don't think he understood that I was asking HOW and WHY things have changed, and not IF they have changed. I think he thought I was looking for come mistake or thing to criticize. I got pretty bummed about it and to be honest, took a few days off from stressing over the ISP. I talked to Ravi about it and he scheduled a focus group for me with Village Health Workers (the women from each village who are trained to be village doctors and health advocates) which got me back on track. He has a rare gift of both cultural and language dual fluency which makes interactions with villagers so much easier... it is the kind of skill that cannot be taught, but only comes from living so many years in both India and America. After that interaction, I got back on track and had several successful interactions.

Probably one of the most interesting parts of my research was a conversation I had with a village health worker about how the drought in the 1970s really changed the caste discrimination because people of all castes were brought to the same level of poverty and desperation - they couldn't afford to be superstitious about one another anymore. I briefly explained the problem of racism in the US and asked her if we would need some kind of disaster to set us straight.. she just cocked one eyebrow and said through translation "you had better pray to your God that something happens with you." "A disaster?!" "Nahi nahi, just something."

One afternoon, we were told that we would be expected at the staff meeting. We showed up with our notebooks and pens, and they proceeded to lead the two and a half hour long meeting in Marathi. It went a little like this: "Well, marathimarathimarathi, yes. Realistically, marathimarathimarathi, marathimarathimarathimarathimarathimarathi. You think? It can only be expected that marathimarathimarathimarathimarathimarathimarathi. Marathimarathimarathi? No. It's really marathimarathimarathi." We were all dying of boredom, and were pretty sure we had lapsed into insanity while we were watching this conversation unfold. Are those just not words in Marathi?? Whaaat? Maybe the moment is lost in typing it to you now, but it was just so comical at the time.

During my second week in Jamkhed, I did more village visits. The Mobile Health Team left at 8:15 every morning to try to beat the heat, so I would go out with them and just observe. I was served many a cuppa chai (mostly sugar, a tiny bit of chai, and a LOT of boiled cow's milk) and handed fresh mangoes by villagers. I met all sorts of people... and I learned that it is easiest to communicate with children when you have no language connection. They don't really need it... they think you're funny looking as it is, so it's not hard to make them laugh. I also petted many a farm animal.. and had a sneak attack by a baby cow who licked my arm from wrist to elbow before I realized what was going on. I'm a sucker for baby cows. I really do love village life. I know this is coming from someone who does not have to live in one day in and day out, and though I have been told that most people dream of moving to the city one day, most of the people I talked to were just so happy living relatively simple lives (though most villagers have cell phones and DVD players that are constantly blaring Bollywood hits - at least, when the electricity is functioning). Life is simple though it has many hardships, animals are everywhere, there's fresh fruit and peanuts from the field at every meal. It's quiet. You can see stars. Given the choice between living in poverty in the village and living in poverty in a city like Delhi, it's difficult to even make a comparison. In a village, you're never truly poor until you do not have a community to depend on. In a city, you're on your own.

The second week there was also Easter! I went to Easter service at CRHP (which has services every day as it has Christian roots). It was so nice, but kind of hilarious as it could not have been more different from St. Francis Xavier at home... the training room which is covered in posters about how to birth children and how to administer/use methods of birth control was filled with women in beautiful silk sarees and children in kurtas sitting in neat rows on the floor. The hymns were Christian and written out phonetically in Marathi and Hindi, and at one part of the service, someone passed around an enormous container of baked sweets made from sugar and milk curd to celebrate the holiday. The electricity went in and out during the service, silencing all but the traditional instruments, but that stopped no one from praisin' the Lord. I felt more comfortable in that unorganized religious setting than I think I have ever felt in a parish. The whole place was filled with happy people instead of the bored expressions you usually see in serious American services, and I think God would like it better that way!

We also had an Easter celebration for the preschool on campus. Caroline and I made bags filled with goodies and Katrina Caroline and I and two other women from CRHP decorated 735846473 eggs. I'm not sure what they thought Easter was when we sent them on their egg hunt but in the words of Caroline, I hope they thought it was just a day to celebrate bunnies and eggs, as most kids were Muslim or Hindu and I wouldn't want our egg hunt to mess with that. We hung out at the preschool afterwards and I sat on one of their toy cars and got pushed around the school yard at lightning speed. Like I said, kids really don't need language... :)

During our last week, I turned 21! The night of the 27th CRHP had a party on the roof for me, and set off 21 HUGE fireworks. And there was a chocolate cake. Heaven.

On the 28th I got to speak with my whole fam on skype, and while I was talking to Joey, a village woman came up behind me and spoke to me in Marathi for about a minute. Obviously I had no idea what she was saying. Turns out this lady knows exactly what skype is and was asking if Joey and Annabelle were my husband and baby, and why I was so far away from them?! I should be home making house! I told Ravi that Joey and I look so alike, and he said "wouldn't matter to her - all you English look the same!" Har de har har.

That night, the other girls made me an apple crisp. It was absolutely delicious and extremely thoughtful... if you guys are reading this, THANK YOU TIMES A BILLION :D

On the 29th, I became increasingly suspicious that no one could actually remember my actual birth date, so were just kind of celebrating all the time.. because when I got into the van to head to the village, I was greeting by a bunch of hand shakes and lots of village health workers saying "MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE DAY!!" (thanks British influence). There was one point when a woman grabbed my shoulder and said something that I thought was in Marathi, and I thought she was saying she wanted my water bottle... wrong. She wanted to shake my hands and say happy birthday, so looked at my outstretched hand holding the water bottle with a confused expression until she burst out laughing. This became a giant "HAHAHA the foreigner is HILARIOUS joke" as I watched the scenario get acted out about five times in Marathi in the van to lots of hysterical laughter :) Oh well. This was a prime example of the necessity of being able to laugh at yourself in order to travel.

A few minutes later, we stopped in the town of Jamkhed to pick up sweets to celebrate (shocker). Jayesh, my new friend from CRHP who is from the village but during the first week told me he has been "to the Towson University" before (WHAT?!), asked if I eat chicken. I was going to say no just to be on the safe side, because I had a suspicion that that would mean a questionable meat dish was headed my way... but I said yes. A few minutes later, a VHW (village health worker) returned to the van with a suspiciously dripping shopping bag. When we finally got to the village, she hopped out and went into someone's house to cook a huge chicken meal. After visiting in the village for a few hours to that the survey team (kind of like CRHPs own version of the census) could take the blood pressure of each person in the village, we returned to the house and had the most delicious meal I've had in India, and possibly one of the best I've ever had in my life. Chicken curry and fresh veggies and rice and cold water and freshly cooked chapati (bread). About 18 of us sat on the floor of a house/bangle shop in the village which was painted in pastel purples and yellows and blues. Outside, the ruins of hundreds of years of stone houses cast shadows into the house, so it was cool but light enough to see to eat. There was a moment when I thought I should refuse the food (flies everywhere? chicken so fresh it's still clucking? no sinks in the village?), but I just dove in, and it was so worth it.

On the 30th, we were invited to Jayesh's house for HIS birthday! His wife Monika and their daughter Akonksha helped make a huge meal that we ate outside in the cool breeze (and in the darkness...). We also had a cake, served Indian style, where everyone serves the birthday person a piece of cake hand to mouth. Same tradition went for my birthday as well.

Hmhmmhmhmm.. in our last few days, I also ordered leather shoes directly from a guy in a village who works with leather and for Rs 250 - $5. I also helped out CRHP with their plans for selling leather goods by letting the guy borrow a leather belt I got from American Eagle a million year ago, and they made carbon copies of it (with an Indian flair, of course!), and helped make some leather bracelets to sell in their small shop meant for western visitors to donate to the organization. On my last night there, I bought some coasters made from broken bangles that are SO neat and are one of my favorite things I've found to take home from India, as well as a great memory from my time in Jamkhed. I have also found that they are great for squashing mosquitoes.

On our last night, we had a farewell dinner on the roof and for the first time since being there, dressed up a little from our usual Indian clothes and dying-in-the-heat apparel. Ravi threw us a party and I had my first (still illegal - drinking age in India is 25) alcoholic beverage since turning 21! Saying goodbye to Ravi and the rest of the staff was hard, as they made us feel like such a part of everything over the course of the month, but I truly feel that i will one day return to Jamkhed. I know I am coming back to India one day, and Jamkhed will definitely be in the itinerary.. but hopefully I'll come at a cooler time of year...

evocative images the day of bin laden's death:

just a wee bit o trash:

nothing like getting them from the source...

Mom, I took these patterns for you for pottery! 

our apartment in Jamkhed:

Jamkhed crew on the last night: 

The next morning, Caroline and I took a car to Pune and flew back to Delhi. I've been here for five days but haven't left the neighborhood as I've been so busy trying to write my ISP, which has proven to be pretty complicated. I'm at about 20 pages but need to reach 30, preferably by tomorrow, before we take a night train to Dehradun and then onto Mussoorie in the Himalayas! I want to just be DONEZO so that I can enjoy the LAST WEEK WITH THE PROGRAM! AHH!

The kids fell asleep in my room yesterday:

And the last five days have been relaxing with the fam. I've eaten awesome meals at home, and yesterday for Mother's Day I attempted to make Mexican food. What resulted was some kind of fusion of East meets West, the most skeptical part of the meal definitely being the spinach tortillas, which ended up being "rotillas" (roti + tortilla) according to my homestay mom, who jumped in and saved the dish at the last minute, and as sad as it was that I attempted to make a meal that she wouldn't have to cook and she needed to help last minute, I was glad she did. It was tasty! Not quite Mexican, but tasty. The pico de gallo was probably the best part, and I skyped my Mom so she could watch the fresh rotillas on the skillet. Cool beans (kidney beans).

So here is how it all adds up: when I get home on June 1, it will have been 128 days since I left home. I left BWI for Madrid 105 days ago, and have been in India for 98. My program ends in 7. With my 16 extra days I added, I will go home in 23. And last week I turned 21! It's hard to believe so much time has passed since I was on here posting about Madrid. Thank you to my friends and fam who have kept up with this blog, have sent me emails, have called me on skype, and have dealt with my intermittent responses. It has really made being so far away exciting as I am able to document what's going on and share experiences with people at home!! Though I definitely know I LOVE travelling, I will say it's definitely not a cake walk (what does that expression even mean?? gotta look that up later) and you miss things you didn't know you'd miss. There are definitely highs and lows. I have loved this time abroad, but I can't wait to be back for late spring/early summer in Monkton. Home is starting to call my name :)

Love,
Laura