A Winter in India

As we write this we are sitting in the Detroit Airport waiting for the last leg of our odyssey, the flight to Portland.

We feel an urge to summarize, but it is not possible. India is too complex and chaotic to yield to easy summation, so we will make do with a few parting comments.

Our American emphasis on “doing”, “productivity”, “efficiency” and “outcomes” came up against the Indian emphasis on “status”, “hierarchy” and “obligation.” Some frustrations were inevitable.

Public health and science education were our main professional interest areas, but such information is not openly available. Although India is a nation that produces many mathematicians, quantitative information is not a top priority. We heard lots of contradictory information. In part that is because record keeping is minimal, but it is also because the “facts” are vastly different for different parts of the country and for different groups of people within the country. We were guinea pigs in our own studies of public health; we were careful and had very little stomach problems, but we were frequently sick from Delhi’s air pollution. Even though all vehicles used for public transportation must use clean natural gas, all the private vehicles run on diesel fuel and have no engine pollution devices. India is changing so fast that growing pains must be expected.

In Kausani, on the same trail where we met the boy porters, we also met this woman, carrying sticks and herding her goat. Somehow with all that she managed to bring her hands together under her chin and say “namaste,” which is both “hello” and a sign of respect. She grinned broadly when we returned the “namaste.” Normally we would say it first to an elder, but we were hoping to spare her the necessity of saying it back, considering the burden she was carrying. But she felt obligated to say it anyways. She appeared to be at least 80 years old, but it’s very hard to tell.

On the way back to Delhi we saw these four, an adult woman and three little girls who looked to be ages 6, 7 and 8. Here they are walking along the side of the national highway, just beside the roadside restaurant we had stopped at for a rest about halfway to Delhi. So you see the advertising boards that look much like they would in the U.S., and work that we would never see in the U.S.

One day at Kausani we went for a hike behind where the paved road ends. Walked a couple of hours out and back on trails like the one in the top photo. We were bird watching; there were dozens of different kinds, most of which we hadn't seen before. Zooming past us came these boys using tump lines to carry bags of sand. How much does a bag of sand that size weigh, we wonder. Sixty pounds? Eighty pounds? Whatever it is, it is a substantial percentage of the weight of the porters. They were not going very far, and in a little while they came back again, unloaded. They were curious about what we were doing, so I pointed to the bird, which they knew the name of. I offered them the binoculars to look through. They were startled at first and then they laughed with such glee! They started punching each other on the shoulder and teasing about which of them should go first. One after another they looked through, kidding each other as they did. Then they asked, in gestures, if I had a camera, which I did. He asked if I would take their picture, and here it is. These kids were excited to see their own photo. You can see that one of the kids has the binoculars. Digital cameras are fun; I could show them the photo right then, which made them laugh and tease each other even more.

Holi is a huge holiday. It is a Hindu festival, but it appears that many people other than Hindus celebrate. It is a festival of color. Powdered paint, in a half dozen BRIGHT colors is sold by the truckload, as are squirt guns of all shapes and sizes. People “play Holi” by smearing each other with the powdered paint. Then after a few hours, the squirt guns and water balloons and buckets come out and wet colors start. All the layers of powdered paint become rivers of color, plus a lot of what is squirted and thrown is water with more color in it.

We were invited to a neighborhood Holi party by Dr. Pawan Malohtra, a microbiologist we had met seven years ago, through a mutual friend from Buffalo. He and his wife and two daughters live in West Delhi in Kirti Nagar. “Nagar” means community, and this nagar was a great layout: twenty houses built in a ring around a sizeable park. No space between the houses and no individual yards, but every two or three-story house had front balconies and roof top space that look out on the park. There is only one entrance, and that is gated and guarded, so the kids can play in the park, watched over by all 40 families.

Near Almora we went for a hike up to Surya Temple (Sun Temple), an 800-year old Hindu temple. It was about 3 km steadily uphill, but all on “trails” that are the roads to the villages. First picture is a work crew making a new section of trail. They use a partner technique for the shoveling, as you can see at the left in the photo. There is a rope attached to the base of the handle of the shovel. One guy jams the shovel into the ground, the other guy pulls on the rope and the force of moving the dirt is thus shared. Other guys with crowbars are breaking up the dirt, getting it ready for shoveling. Guy in the red shirt is supervising.

Corruption is pervasive. We see on the news here about American politicians being sent to prison for corruption, and people here think this is one of the strengths of America. They assume there will be corruption, but they are amazed that anyone actually has to pay a penalty for it.

One example is Laloo Prasad, a politician who was the Chief Minister for the state called Bihar, and who was notorious for corruption that he made little or no attempt to hide. He had squandered the state’s money to the extent that the state was virtually bankrupt and was experiencing none of the investment and development that most states in India have been enjoying. After 14 years as Chief Minister, he was finally voted out of office during the time we have been here. Our landlady and her daughter were ecstatic and could hardly believe that it had come true, that some politician had been voted out for his actions. There were also caste overlays to this story. Prasad is from what are known here as the Backward and Scheduled Castes, so he spread some of the money around to other lower caste people, while using a lot of it to pay for votes. Most of it went to his immediate family. So, he was voted out, but is he in jail? No, he has now become the Chief Minister of Railroads. The railroads, the military, the civil servants and some other government sectors have their own schools, their own medical providers, their own vacation resorts, their own restaurants, and a pension system. None of these things, except the schools, are provided to the rest of the public. So now Prasad is running the railroads and he has advertised fare breaks, to try to lure the middle class away from airlines and back to trains. His budget ran a surplus this past six months, which he has publicized greatly. Suspicious thing about that is that the railroad upgrade projects that were supposed to have been scheduled for this year have not received any funding (an easy way to run a surplus in your budget!).

Many, many people here can now afford a scooter, and it is the family car. Here we see two adult men, and adult woman and a baby on one scooter, actually quite a common sight. Somehow the women never get their flowing saris and scarves caught in the wheels and the babies all look completely calm.

Another frequently seen public service announcement is “Always use seatbelts.” In fact, their use is “compulsory” in the front seat.

But as you can see, most people don’t sit in the front seat. People with little or no money are very resourceful at making due with what they have. In the mountains, there are “share jeeps” that pick up anyone and everyone along the road. Here on the plains, the jeeps are replaced by these vehicles that look like old VW buses. As you can see, people ride along with the back door, and even the passenger-side side door open, allowing more people to stand on the body frame.

After we had seen glorious views of the Himalaya from Almora, we went even further north for closer views. Unfortunately, by then the weather had changed and everything was clouded in. We got some heavy rain, which was good because they are dependent on rainwater and had not had any all winter. Bad for us because it also got really cold. Snow on the near mountains, and about 37 F in our unheated hotel. So after two days, instead of the five we had planned, we headed back to Delhi. First day, a four hour drive to the Nainital area (another lake, with the lovely name of Bhimtal). Then the second day, an 8.5 hour drive to Delhi. It took an hour and a half to get down out of the mountains, then the rest of the way was on the absolutely flat Gangetic Plains, and mostly on a national highway. These pictures were from along that part of the drive.

This guy obviously doesn’t worry about bad hair days. He is one of the millions of Hindus who believe that the water of the Ganges will heal all physical and spiritual ailments. On the return trip to Delhi from the mountains we crossed the Ganges and saw first hand the multitudes who visit this sacred river. Further downstream and upstream are the more famous pilgrimage stops along the Ganges, Haridwar, Varanasi, Benares and others, but here also the devotees throng to restore their health. At the river’s edge cement stairs called ghats allow devotees to reach the river safely and immerse themselves. I wish I understood more of the Hindu rituals to better appreciate their spiritual journey to this river. Boatmen are more than willing to take a devotee for a ride on the sacred river and merchants are more than anxious to supply them with all necessities. Wherever there is a visitor with a purpose to fulfill there are also others to help (for Rupees) them with their experience. Just to be around folks like the one in our image makes one become more spiritual, if only to wonder at his devotion improves us all.