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SPRING STREET INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL |
Related pagesSpring Street International School Excerpt 9 - Calcutta and Mother Theresa’s Home |
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Spring Street International School "Dispatches" from the fieldSpring Street International School Travelers Kai Wilson, Chelsea DeCouteau, Alex Freeman, Sonja Anderson, Ingrid Carlson, Evan Anderson, Zack Milkis, Gabe Colburn and Grant Schwinge Experiential Education journals and tales from afar... Excerpt Seven - On the Ganges River - India You cook on an open fire in your 1000 year old stone house filling it with woodsmoke. All the water for washing and cooking comes from an outdoor faucet, but you have a cell phone in your pocket. You can tell the history of your country, but not without including the activities of the Gods. You can pray to any number of publicly displayed stone phalluses, ("Shiva Lingums"), rubbing them with gold leaf and showering them with rose petals, but you cant touch a woman (even your wife) in public, and women must cover their legs and shoulders and drape their bodices with flowing fabric. You can see that there are 23 sewage outlets directly into the Ganges in a two mile stretch. The ashes of 300 people a day are dumped into it as well as 50 unburned bodies, but it is still a wonderful holy experience to bathe in and drink its waters, every day if you are lucky. You can hire a bicycle rickshaw for one, two, or three people and watch the driver in hid loin cloth pedal hard, or squeeze the same number into a noisy motor rickshaw, or you can pay a motorcycle taxi, or rent a bike or walk, but there is not enough room for cars in the old part of Varanasi. You can ask a question of a smiling local, but you can’t tell by the head waggle response if it is a yes or no answer. You can drink chai from a tiny ceramic cup for five cents, but you can't use it again as it will not be pure, so toss it in the street. You can see the laundry being beaten and rinsed in the river until it's clean, but then it is stretched out to dry on the filthy dirty stone steps of the ghats. Everyday you can see human eyes outlined in black coal to protect eyesight, black spots on babies foreheads to ward off evil, Ganesh statues painted with fresh orange paint. Every day there are lepers, people with strange limbs, and smiling people crawling along, shaking a can for alms. There are sounds of drums, chants, shouting matches, cymbals, ringing bells, horns, dogfights, birds, chickens, pleading beggars, "Madam please, only milk for the baby." and insistent silk marketers, "Come I show you!" Silk shops have tiny rooms with padded floors where you sit and watch as one after another silk sari is opened in a massive pile before you. This happens even if you are just a high school student who didn't ask to buy anything. Indian women dressed in every color of the rainbow, as many as 24 bodies burning in pyres near the river at any one time, the air thick with smoke. Completely naked Sadhus covered in white ash, with long beards and dreadlocks are camped out by the hundreds on the Ghats. The day after tomorrow is Shiva and Parvati's anniversary, and ecstatic Hindu pilgrims from all over the country are flocking here to celebrate. Watch your step, as there is no sidewalk and you share the twisty labyrinth of narrow road with cow dung, dog poop, and human feces; as well as holes in the street, piles of trash, muddy puddles after the rain, small fires, chai stoves, samosas being fried, men facing walls taking leaks, cast iron wheels on carts rolling by, and dead bodies wrapped in gold red and white fabrics being carried on bamboo stretchers by large family groups winding their ways through the narrow alleys down to the river. Usually behind them will be a throng of people carrying large chunks of dried tree brought from their village for this most sacred day, cremating their loved one on the burning Ghats in Varanasi. I will venture in to story land tomorrow...today all I can throw you are these snatches.... and yes your kids are all winners...all navigating this sacred and dramatic place with wide eyes and open hearts. Happy Valentines Day!!! from the sacred city of Varanasi, LOVE and Amazement at all they have to teach us, Liza Michaelson
Excerpt Eight – From Amritsar Amritsar in Punjabi translates as: “Pool of the nectar of immortality” Liza Michaelson writes from Amritsar the Sikh capital of India, the day before terrorists blew up a train that had departed from Amritsar. Sixty-six killed. Happily, SSIS kids are far from that sad event! “So Many camels walking by that we stopped counting. They are incredibly tall and strong and walk alongside the roads in Rajastan and all the way into Delhi. Some are painted with zigzag stripes of black coal, making them look like burlap pieces quilted together, with outlines around their eyes like mascara. They have bells and blankets and they are pulling and carrying an assortment of things. Mountains of firewood, huge bundles of mustard greens, carts full of people or propane tanks, or water in big round brass jugs, or hand stitched mattresses... They don’t move fast, just chug along. The drivers all have rags wrapped around their heads, black beards and mustaches and dress in plain colored wraps. It’s dry and dirty all around. Camels aren't all. The kids rode elephants yesterday, up the mile long ramp to the Amber Fort. Did you know the tail of an elephant is higher than my head? I was squeezing between all the elephants trying to get good pictures looking up at the kids, wondering if I would get stepped on...Elephants are incredibly aware of their feet. I saw one take a little side swipe to kick a trainer without breaking stride. In Varanasi, the police were busy rounding up the dirty beggar kids and kicking them out of the train station, while a cow walked all around inside the big room with over 1000 people sitting and standing squished together, and nobody paid it any mind. Cows are sacred and beggar kids are dirt. Belonging to nobody. Alex Oettinger gets the prize for finding the most places to sleep...yesterday it was on the floor in the aisle of our rented bus, with his sunglasses on and iPod plugged into his ears. Jonathan Balise eats the most, grateful for every left over donation...Anna Haefele is finding things to eat around her wheat allergy, chick pea samosas, etc. Today is Petra Borhani’s birthday. Peg and I woke her up singing to her on the train... She and Lindsey Cummins bought oranges and bananas for everybody while we sat on the pile of backpacks in the Delhi train station last night. Corwin Waldron stopped to see a sadhu with a huge snake in Varanasi and the next thing he knew it was wrapped around his neck! Noah Yang is always first at the meetings, which is a great trait when trying to organize 25 people. Rebecca Mason and Alice Haefele are out trying on shoes, the Rajastani kind with sequins and mirrors on them... for Petra’s birthday present. Joanna Leff is at the Golden temple with Peg Hope and Jonathan and some others. Ted Hope and the college kids were here this morning when we got off the train and came to the hotel. It was fun to cross paths again. While we were at the Amber fort and Jaipur, they were here in Amritsar with the Sikhs. Everybody was together for sunrise at the Taj Mahal, and they all loved that! The amount of headaches and attention to detail Ted and Peg put into this boggles me. I really don’t think there is anybody in the world doing what they do ESPECIALLY with students. It has been a ragged pace (yesterday 10 hours on the bus followed by ten on the train) and some of the kids are wilting. They will thrive and rekindle tomorrow when we climb up to Dharamsala in the mountains where the air is clear, the pace is slow, and the Tibetans greet them with open arms and warm smiles. Ted was so eager to get there he skipped breakfast and waited in the van! So fun to see him and Peg excited yet again to be on this trip. Honestly I don’t know how they do it. Sometimes I think I am too old for this. Liza Michaelson |
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