A Goan Thanksgiving

On Thanksgiving Day, we began the morning with a Peace Assembly dedicated to a remembrance of the 26-Nov Mumbai Terrorist attacks. The event, designed by our superintendent, was a celebration of unity through music and brought together the entire K-12 school in the gym. Rachel lead a group of elementary singers in a rousing rendition of "Peace Like a River," which featured actions that even our older students enjoyed. Tom, the choir teacher I work with, led a group singing a Hebrew peace song, a senior music student did a piano/voice song she composed, and the faculty rock band played "Gimme Some More" and a combo of "Give Peace a Chance" and "Hey Jude." We ended with much of the school singing along with "na, na na na na na na ..." We were a proud music dept!

That evening, many teachers went on a long weekend holiday. We joined Greg, Twyla, and Waciuma on a trip to Goa! We arrived in time for a late dinner of delicious seafood.

Friday morning, we took a tour of Old Goa, the original Portuguese capital before they moved the city because of frequent malaria outbreaks. Between 1540 and 1961, the Portuguese ruled Goa as a profitable spice colony. (Note the end date: the rest of India achieved independence in 1947!) Amazingly, during the 16th-18th centuries, Goa actually had a greater population than London or Lisbon!. The legacy left from the Portuguese is everywhere, but it is easily seen in the great cathedrals and churches. This is Se Catedral and it is the largest cathedral in all of Asia (it also contains the largest bell) and was constructed in the early 1600s.

The other very impressive sight in Old Goa is the original Fransiscan monastery complex, which is in ruins. Walking around the broken stones, half-standing walls, and chipped azulejo tiles (that reference is for the those who've studied in Spain or Puebla, Mexico) over looking a valley of palm tress is a surreal experience. These monks were VERY far outside of their comfort zone.

After seeing the glory of the Goan colony, the next day we toured the source of all that revenue -- a spice plantation. After an hours drive through a beautiful countryside of rice paddies, palm trees, banana trees, and soft rolling hills, we reached our destination. There, we got to see pepper, cinnamon, cardamon, cloves, beedle nut, vanilla, tumeric, corriander (cillantro), pinapple, and a few others I might be forgetting. For someone who loves to know what food looks like in its original form, it was a joyous day.

The other great part of being on the planation was the great lunch that came with our tour ticket. We enjoyed freshly cooked food with locally grown spices.

And the icing on the cake was some great birding -- notably a kingfisher (India's national bird) and a hornbill.

The rest of the time was spent on the beach. Waciuma and Rachel enjoyed massages, Greg chatted it up with many children selling peanuts, we had several great meals, body-surfed in the very warm waters, and even bought psychedelic laser pointers.

Hope you had a great Thanksgiving too!

Crazy Mumbai

As I was out running this morning on the road that hugs the rocky rubble strewn coast of the Arabian Sea, I came upon an amazingly strong fish smell. This is not unusual in that in addition to the fact that it's the ocean, there happens to be an indigenous Koli fishing village about a five minute jog down the street from our apartment. This smell was much stronger than any I'd ever smelled in India -- and that's saying something. As I rounded the bend in the road, the docks were flush with pink.

Millions of prawns were neatly laid out on every conceivable flat surface drying in the mid-morning sun. Guarding the precious seafood were villagers with fly swatters slowly walking through the thin layer of prawns. Little kids were guarding the perimeter against the hungry street dogs and cats. As I stopped to check this out (for as long as my nose could take it), I was once again reminded of living San Miguel Tzinacapan. I immediately remembered the roofs of the village houses that were covered in the dull red color of coffee beans. And while it took no time at all to get over the obvious health concerns of drinking coffee made from beans that had been drying out on somebody's roof, it will take me longer to eat dried prawns. I'm very excited about fried prawns -- no way any bacteria will survive that heat! -- but dried, no way Jose.

Our Rajastani Ramble

Instead of a narrative for this blog entry, check out the photos with detailed captions. Please comment or ask questions! Take care, Reid and Rachel

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