Singing is a gift

"Didi, you sing. Please Didi, sing again".

This week at Ashray (the orphanage we're volunteering at) I taught a simple song and hand clapping game. The song and game was a big hit.

Unbelievably heart-warming but just as much heart-wrenching was what transpired throughout the rest of the evening. One student in particular latched onto me and asked what I thought was to teach her the song again. After some lost-in-translation moments, I realized she just wanted me to sing for her. She sat there working on her assignment while I sang. Many of the children throughout the evening did the same. They wanted to hear the song they just learned as well as anything new I'd sing for them. Often they'd stop their work just to listen and watch me as I sang. In the second lesson group, an 11-12 year old or so boy held my hand as he wrote his assignment with the other.

I have never really considered myself a "singer" in the soloist or professional sense. I admit I can sing in tune and blend well with the best of them in a Lutheran choir, but, my sister and brother have always had the amazing voices, you know, ones that you would want to listen to on stage or have solo at your wedding.

But these kids were so transfixed by my singing to them. It finally dawned on me that they haven't had someone singing "You Are My Sunshine" to them every night (like I did as a child). I wanted to stay that night and tuck them each into bed, hold their hand and sing them all to sleep.

As we began to pack up, those feelings of overwhelmingness began inside me about how massive the greater issue at hand is and how could I possibly make any difference. The students in their excitement at the end of the lesson begin playing the game on their own again or running around to all of us teachers giving high fives, shaking hands, and saying thank you. I sighed... I have at least one small gift to give.

Last week the students were calling us "teacher". This week, I became "Didi"-- the affectionate term for older sister.

"Bye Didi. Sing voice good. Next time? Thank you Didi! Thank you!"

Love,
Rachel

Settling In

While it seems quite odd to say it, we are now starting to feel like this is our home. The routines are becoming familiar, we are developing greater friendships, become more involved at school and in the community, and finally know our way around. In short, life is settling in.

This past week we had our first evening teaching at the local orphanage/crisis center. There are about 15 ASB teachers that are volunteering to teach some basic English and character-building lessons to around a total of 30 kids, ranging in age from 7-14. These kids are from families with parents involved in the sex industry or who have parents with HIV/AIDS. They have a lot of spunk but not a lot of social skills, which is understandable in every way. In addition to a short lesson on healthy habits like brushing teeth and learning to cough into your elbow, we spent a lot of time on appropriate ways to handle conflict. Pushing, shoving, and grabbing are all major issues here.

The group of ASB teachers is organized into four teams with each group going everyother Tuesday or Thursdays -- Rachel and I are in one of the Thursday groups. Although that is what we have committed to, I think that we will both go whenever possible as it is such rewarding work and a great stress reliever from the daily grind of life. In particular, the boys have latched on to the male teachers in the group. Even though we are putting forth minimal effort with just 30 kids, it feels fulfilling to be addressing the issue of mass poverty in our own little way.

What is so hard about life here is the contrasts. Literally one block down from the orphanage are the jewelry stores that supply gold in all shapes and sizes to the richest families in India. Diwali is approaching (the biggest Hindu holiday of the year) and the stores are all lit up like Christmas trees. It is really fun to walk through that area of the neighborhood at night because the brightly colored lights dance up and down the street with each jewelry store trying to out-do the next.

Rachel and the faculty dance troop have been hard at work this week in preparation for their dance at the Diwali assembly. She loves the challenging steps and has taken a lot of leadership in the group. They are seriously into it -- we'll have to get a video of the performance posted on the blog this weekend. I will be tapping my toe in the audience while wearing my newly purchased cotton-silk, all-black with gold thread embroidery, Indian suit.

These past few weeks have been nuts in the band room. We are 2/3 of the way through the October concerts -- 8th/High School went on Oct 6 and 6th gr went on Oct 13 while 7th grade performs this coming week. The jazz program is in full swing (Ha ha ha!) with regular rehearsals on Tuesday mornings from 7:00 to 7:50am. And, I finished coaching 9 middle school students as they submitted recordings for the Asian Middle Level Honor Band, which is held in Bangkok this year. Adding to that, quarter grades are due tomorrow -- mine are done -- with extended comments for each student (all 147 for me).

Rachel is beginning to plan the big Christmas tree lighting party at the Grand Hyatt. This included a fabulous lunch the other day at the hotel with the manager (a parent at our school) and a meal personally created by the chef, who hung out with them later. Needless to say, I was a bit jealous! She had parent-teacher conferences this past week and was able to meet many parents and have great conversations.

In travel news, we are attempting to single-handedly rescue the airline industry from the recession. We have a spring break trip booked to Seattle and Minneapolis. We'll be in Seattle April 1-4 and Minneapolis 4-8. And, we have moved ahead with our big Europe trip plan -- we've booked flights in and out of London from June 8 to July 25. We're on the move and excited to see more and more.

Bye for now, hope all is well back in the States, especially in Minneapolis where the Twins had a rough week.

Reid

The Music Box Dancer

This one's for you mom.

You know how smells can bring you instantly to a memory of something? Maybe something you haven't thought about in years? Well, that happened to me today, but, with music.

On Thursdays after school, the piano class is held in my room. Eight keyboards with elementary students of all different (beginning) levels. Mostly it's a lot of fun noise (they don't use headphones) as two Indian piano teachers walk around and tutor each of the students. One of my fourth grade girls had her keyboard set up closest to my desk. As I was working on some lesson plans she and her instructor started playing.

Suddenly, I was 8 or 9 years old again, sitting in my parent's basement at the piano, in my pajamas (pink floral- the ones that my best friend Ann and I both had so we would match), with wet hair after having showered, playing the same song-- The Music Box Dancer. I was seriously there for an instant. I remembered how much I practiced that song, how much I loved it (especially when I could play it fast) and that I got to play it on the high part of the piano and how cool I thought that was. How crazy our brain is! Why did such a VIVID and distinct memory stay lodged way deep in there for so long, totally forgotten, to then resurface 20 years later, with an Indian piano instructor teaching a Korean student in my classroom in Mumbai.

Random, surreal, and precious.

Love,
Rachel

Ajanta, Ellora, Daulatabad

Our (historically) long weekend in Aurangabad

This past weekend, Rachel and I joined up with Kevin and Elizabeth (MS Math and MS/HS Librarian) to take a trip back into a time where religious monasteries kept cultures and traditions alive. In visiting the ruined monastic enclaves around Aurangabad, we were able to follow the historical development of Buddhism from around 2nd century B.C. through its decline around 600 A.D., gain a perspective on Hindu monastic life from 600 to 900 AD, and begin to understand the similarities and differences with Jainism. We completed our chronological trip with visits to early and late Mughal sites dating from around 1300 to 1650AD. 1800 years of history in one valley in around 48 hours -- here goes!

First up, the Buddhist monastery at Ajanta (a two and a half hour drive out into the hills around Aurangabad). On the way, we were reminded that although we live in the enormous metropolis of Mumbai, around 70% of all Indians still live in small towns and villages and these people have a tough life. Note the photo of the woman carrying water on her head, walking along the highway -- there are few jobs out here that bring in money to the area. What little capital that does flow in comes largely through tourism.

The Ajanta caves were chiseled out of the cliffs overlooking a horseshoe-shaped bend in the river by hand by an unknown number of laborers funded through the donations of local wealthy families and rulers from around 2nd c. B. C. through 600 AD. We weren't sure which was more impressive: that each cave was cut out, one hammer stroke at a time, or the meticulously detailed paintings they used to adorn the caves. Although Ajanta is rightfully famous for its paintings, the carvings are pretty impressive. Notable were the 24-ft long reclining Buddha, the ceiling that gave the optical illusion that it was a piece of fabric blowing in the wind, and the scene of four deer all sharing the same head (see photo). These artistic and engineering achievements were mind blowing for us.

The paintings depict various scenes from the life of the Buddha including his rejection of all material possessions (he was a prince before he chose to become a monk), his wife trying to seduce him back by trying to get him drunk, and my favorite, the entire 'immaculate conception' dream had by his mother foretelling his coming from the metaphor of a six-tusked elephant -- it's interesting to see such similar scenes and messages in these Buddhist caves as the ones we have heard from the Bible. Thinking about these monks searching for their own spirituality gave us a connection to our own, 2200 years later. In addition to the paintings, we were able to get a sense of monastic life by seeing bedrooms and yes, even a chiseled out pillow. Like many of these blog entries, it is very hard to write about such a vastly immense and epic place -- see the pictures or do your own wikipedia research to get a better academic feel.

While the trip to Ajanta took the entire day -- 2.5 hrs to get there, four hours to see it, then a 2.5 hour trip back to the hotel -- seeing the next stage of monastic life was much easier. As the monastery at Ajanta (and Buddhism in India) was declining, the monastery at Ellora was growing. Just a 40min drive outside of the city into the hills, the monastic caves of Ellora had three overlapping religious phrases -- Buddhism from 600-800, Hinduism from 600-900 and Jainism* from 800-1000 (all dates A.D.). While the paintings are the draw at Ajanta, Ellora brings in tourists for its engineering marvel. Like the caves of Ajanta, all of the buildings at Ellora were carved down and out of the rock escarpment. No scaffolds were used (or needed)! The main Hindu temple in the group, the Kailasa Temple, covers twice the area of the Parthenon in Athens and is half again as high and the making of it created 200,000 tons of rock in waste. While the temples and caves of the Hindu group are extremely extravagantly decorated, the Jain carvings are much less grand, but more detailed. Where the Jain caves were smaller and built for lower numbers of monks, the Hindu assembly halls could hold thousand -- minutely decorated pillars and high ceilings.

We spent around 4 hours poking our heads around Ellora before the real enemy -- the heat and humidity -- took its toll and we were forced to enjoy the ubiquitous veg-thali lunch, the meal of the day option with four cup-sized dishes accompanied by rice, naan, and spices: all for around a dollar. As we got back into the car, our driver zipped us over to Daulatabad Fort, an imposing fort used by the Moghuls from around 1300 to 1650 AD.

Along with many other local Indian tourists (it was Gandhi Day, a national holiday, afterall), we ascended the hilltop fortress. Our path took us through the outer defenses, a town-like area, over the dry moat AND the wet moat, and through a pitch black dark, urine smelling, bat infested tunnel. We paid a local 10 rupees to take us through with a torch -- we would not have made it without him due to all the unexpected turns, wet and slippery rock, and complete darkness. After the tunnel and stairs, we had only reached the halfway point. Spirits were low with the group but after several water and cracker stops, we made it to the top drenched in sweat! The views were amazing and it was interesting to see the ruined outer wall from the medieval city still serving as a border to the town that resides at the bottom of the hill. Even more interesting, from the high hilltop view, you could see the next fort over on the next hilltop miles away. Although the majority fort has not been kept in great condition, the minaret/look out tower still looked great, all painted in orange.

After our tiring outing at the fort, our historical tour completed at the Bibi-qa-Maqbarra, the "mini Taj." The last Mughal emperor, Aurangzeb (from which the name of the city is derived) had an over zealous son. His son organized the building of a mauseleum for his mother inspired by the Taj Mahal. In the middle of the construction, the boss (his father) intervened and the scope of the project was reduced. From a gleaming white marble base, the workers were forced to transition to lime mortar resulting in a rather dilapidated look as lime mortar doesn't really keep its color. Either way, as the Lonely Planet (our beloved Biblia azul) says, "it remains a sight far more impressive than the average gravestone." So if you jumped straight to the pictures before reading this entry, NO, we did not go visit the Taj Mahal in Agra. Yet.

Our first trip outside of the city was a great success. It was fun to share it with new friends, learn a lot about the peak monastic periods of Buddhism, Hinduism and Jainism, and also to spend time outside away from the hustle and bustle of Mumbai. Simple walking around and breathing fresh air and falling asleep to the sound of silence (as opposed to the honking horns of our street) was rewarding for us. While we love living in our apartment in our modern neighborhood, getting out for a weekend was great.

Take care,

Reid and Rachel

*Jainism: arose in 6th century B.C. as a reaction against the caste system; strictly nonviolent towards any and all living things; shares many of the same rituals and rites with Hinduism