Mirzapur Adventure

Dear Readers.

Here are some excerpts from field notes of mine in case you are wondering what my life is like doing research:

I went to the shop at 9am – like I was asked to and found Niyaz, Istiaq, Ronu and Monu asleep on a carpet that was left over from the time when that shop had once been a concert hall. They brushed their teeth, I ordered chai, and then we headed off to Mirzapur. There is no highway to Mirzapur. Even though it is another town about 50km away, you seem to just wind through the alleys of people’s neighborhoods until you hit the rail road tracks. After following the tracks for a bit and ultimately crossing them, you start to get into farmland with its green fields and stacks of drying cow manure that are so very typical of Uttar Pradesh. After awhile you have to cross the Ganga. Since the water level is low right now, you have to forge through quite a bit of sand in order to reach the floating bridge. Over the sand metal sheets have been placed in order to give the cars traction, but I still saw one jeep that had ventured off to the side just spinning sand.

Crossing the Ganga to Mirzapur from Nikki on Vimeo.

The Floating bridge was pretty cool, because it undulates with the weight of the cars. Unfortunately the video is of the small one, we didn't stop when we approached the big one and the motorcycle was bouncing so much that the video is unwatchable. Apparently during the rainy season this bridge simply doesn’t exist and everyone must go a much longer distance to get to and from Mirzapur. I noticed that there weren’t any busses going across, so they probably have to go the long way (wherever that is). That floating bridge is also the first toll road I remember seeing here. You have to pay 15 rupees to cross it.

I won't put in the parts where I actually interviewed people simply because I am not sure what to tell the world about yet. That will come out in my dissertation. Here are some pictures from the shop, however.

After Interviewing Shamsuddin (above), I went for a walk through the Brass making neighborhood of Mirzapur. It seems that brass work is their major industry. They, unlike many parts of the world, melt down scraps and make their own sheets. Apparently other countries actually export scraps of metal rather than melt it down themselves – which is something I don’t really understand. But it was kind of cool to see where they melt it down and make little disks. I can only imagine what it must be like to work next to those fires in the summer. The whole town seemed to be buzzing and reverberating with the sounds of hammers and metal sheets. Everywhere you looked it seemed like there were piles and piles of plates and bowls and jugs. Apparently most of the items are used in weddings and other rituals. The most interesting piece I saw was a brass damaru that was being re-headed for Shivratri.

Walking through Mirzapur's Brass Making District from Nikki on Vimeo.

Surprisingly, it was only about 8 years ago, when one of the brass workers started making Bayas. Shamsuddin taught him how to do so. Now he can get his brass locally and cut down on costs. You would think that with such a robust business of brass, they would have been making these for a long time. But maybe the market for them hadn’t reached Mirzapur yet. I am not sure, but I find it fascinating.

Buddhist Bihar

Where to begin. I've been wrestling for over a week now of how to process my adventure in Bihar with Hamsa, Danika and Jane Marie... literally, we took almost 15GB of photos and videos on this trip. I knew I wanted to make a movie to share this trip with you - I just hadn't anticipated how much there was to tell. Be prepared - the movie is not short. But I hope it really does give you a sense of the places we visited and the various sites we saw.

To recap: Jane Marie, a professor of Japanese Religions, came to India to visit as many of the Buddhist holy sites in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh as she could manage. Our mutual friends Hamsa and Danika helped organize her trip and accompanied her on her travels. And I'm the bum who got to tag along for the ride!

We went to Sarnath, site of the deer park where the Buddha gave his first sermon. Next, was Bodhgaya, where the Buddha - under the Bodhi tree - attained enlightenment. After that was Rajgir, home to Vulture's Peak (Griddhkuta) where the Buddha gave several important sermons. Last, but certainly not least, was Nalanda, which is said to be "one of the first great universities in recorded history." It was of interest to us on our Buddhist pilgrimage because it had been patronized by many Buddhist rulers, including Ashoka and the Gupta Empire.

So without much further ado, here's my most recent video of our exploits:

Bihari Buddhist Pilgrimage from Nikki on Vimeo.

Some takeaways from the footage:

First, I couldn't even capture one half of everything that we saw ... if I had the movie would probably have been closer to 2 hours. Feel thankful I didn't put you through that.

Second, all of these sites were active sites of worship, primarily for the Tibetan exiles but for other sects of Buddhism as well. I try to give a flavor of that in the video, but I couldn't record in the museum, for example, monks and nuns touching their heads to the feet of the of every image of a Bodhisattva they could get close enough to touch.... and the security guards at first lamely trying to stop them, then just accepting the tide of human spirituality they were witnessing, and then slyly pocketing any monetary offerings that were left behind.

Third, yes we went to a lot of Japanese temples because of Jane Marie's field interests --- but also they were a sign of a large amount of foreign investment coming to Bihar for development and tourism. Universally we heard the chorus singing the praises of the new Chief Minister of Bihar, Shri Nitish Kumar, and what a good job he is doing of modernizing Bihar. It was hard to disagree... especially considering Bihar had the best roads I had seen in India. Period.

We were told, after the fact, that it is only this road - in between Buddhist holy sites - that is so well maintained and that the money for it is coming from the Japanese --- but that's almost besides the point! Baby steps, right?

And lastly, despite the influx of foreign investment (and subsequent reclaiming) in these holy sites the Tibetans have overwhelmingly made these spaces their own. With their homeland and holy sites off limits to them, Tibetan Buddhists in exile have embraced India... and they are clearly not letting go anytime soon. The Dali Lama loomed large in these spaces (with images or because he was planning to give a lecture or just had recently given a lecture...). I wouldn't say that these spaces are contentious at all ... but it does make one wonder how the power struggle between China and the Dali Lama will play out in India.... which seems to have benefited so much from the Buddhist tourist trade.

It was a fascinating trip on its own - but it was made even more so by my company of scholars who were extremely knowledgeable and excited about all the places we visited. Many, many, many thanks Jane Marie, Hamsa and Danika for letting me crash your trip ... it was an experience that I hope stays with me for the rest of my life.

Next up for me - a 10 day Vipassana meditation retreat in Sarnath while Allen ... oh, yeah... does more field work.

Restoring some of my faith in humanity...

What a crazy week it has been. I just got back yesterday from my whirlwind pilgrimage to various Buddhist holy sites with my friends Hamsa, Danika, and Jane. I'm working on finding a good way of compressing the 5 days of really intense sightseeing we did, so that I don't overload you all (or myself for that matter). But I learned SO MUCH and am bursting to talk about it.

But first I'll share with you my crazy adventure getting back home. I took leave of my friends at Nalanda train station early Sunday morning - I was heading back to Banaras by train and they were all, first driving 3 hours to the Patna airport and then flying back to Delhi. I felt confident - Allen had booked me a 2AC ticket, so I knew that I would be traveling comfortably on the 8 hours back to Banaras.... so the fact that the Nalanda station was so small that I had to cross the tracks (there were only 2 tracks there, east- and westerly direction) -- climbing through another train mind you --- to get to my platform (a glorified rocky hillside) didn't really phase me. I mean, I had traveled in Sleeper class to get to Bihar - this should be a piece of cake for a well seasoned traveler like myself, right?

The train pulls up.... and all I'm seeing are Sleeper class cars. So I'm running down the "platform" with my little carry-on sized bag (the wheels utterly useless because of the rocky terrain) trying desperately to find my car. I pass a couple of police officers with some serious guns and ask them which way to my car - they just point to the back of the train and say that way... I was hoping that maybe by asking them, maybe by some slim chance if I was having trouble getting on the train they would help.*

Finally, I see the AC car (you can tell which ones they are because their windows don't open - duh, because they have air-conditioning).... but the car is empty and the doors are locked.

The train starts to move, infinitesimally, but ... I'm running out of time. All of the AC cars are closed. I groan in frustration and a man running ahead of me (probably headed further down the train than I was) pointed to an empty door. So I did what any self respecting person who is lost, and scared, and completely out of their depth - I jump...

... into a general unreserved car.... with about 15 other people in the doorway of the car (and a bicycle, oddly) ... in a car that was packed to the gills.

For the uninitiated, here's a picture of what a general unreserved car looks like without people and their baggage.

Source: India Mike's blog, with a decent article about riding trains

Here's approximately what it looked like when I jumped on to it...

Source: Things from Within blog

Everyone was packed. In this class there are no seat reservations, so sometimes you fit about 6 people on the row of two benches per compartment, sometimes closer to 12 ... it varies a lot depending upon the season and the train in question.

So, I jump into this open car and find myself face to face with no less than 30 people in my immediate vicinity.... an old papa (grandfather) next to me, who's foot I was squashing with my luggage, an old ama (grandmother, probably was with the grandfather) pushing me further into the train.... and a ton of other people (including the gentleman with the bike, who really had no reason to be talking - pot calling the kettle black, if you know what I mean) urging me to go further into the train and just take a freaking seat already ... why was I jamming up the doorway with my big fancy suitcase?!

And in that moment, with people pushing - gently, but none the less insistent - me further into this space filled with bodies ... where would I fit? Where should I go? What do I do now that I can't get to my designated car?

Right there ... in the doorway of this train car ... I just started crying.

I couldn't help it. The tears just came. I wasn't scared, I was just in shock. 5 minutes before I had envisioned how leisurely I would spend the next 8 hours, but after booking it down most of the train, realizing that I couldn't get to where I was suppose to go, feeling relieved that I at least made it on the train, but also realizing that I had just invaded this space and didn't know how to fit in ... well, I was just overwhelmed.

I wasn't crying hard, but it was unmistakable that I was clearly very upset ... and collectively this group of people decided that they needed to take care of me. They cleared me a space on one of the benches. They made room for my, seemingly absurdly large bag (most of them were probably just traveling for the day, not a week), and sat me down next to this mother figure and let me have a good little cry for a while. I rested my head on the shoulder of the nice woman sitting next to me and she held my head until I had calmed down.

They asked me where I was going and what car I was suppose to be in. I told them I was scheduled for 2AC and they said that that car was closed, but that they would hail the police and see if they could get me in.

10 minutes later that same police officer I saw with the gun earlier on the platform came in, asked me which car I was going to, and when I said "2AC" he said, "OK, let's go."

The train was still moving at that moment.

As he headed to the train car's door, I got up and my new adopted train family helped me with my luggage. As I got to the door, saying "Thank you and good-bye" to everyone I could... the train started to slow...

... interesting....

The train was still moving (though slowing down) when I got off and the policeman was already ahead of me one car opening up the deserted 2AC car.... I got onto the moving train (for the second time that day), and as I did the train started to gather speed again. What was that about? Did it slow just for me, or was that an actual "stop"? I'll never know.

But I boarded the deserted car and the only people in there were other police men (probably catching a ride). I started to get nervous that I would be the only person in this car all the way back to Banaras but thankfully more people started boarding the car by the time we reach Patna.

I will always be so thankful for the kindness of those strangers in the unreserved car.

Just another story to add to the growing litany of really amazing train stories I have.

_________________________________

* HA!

Surprise Tour of Buddist Sites in Uttar Pradesh and Bihar

Crazy story....

So we were out visiting Sarnath, the location of the deer park where the Buddha first taught about dharma, with our bridge-playing friends Hamsa and Danika and their friend Jane, a Buddhologist, and they asked me if I'd be interested in tagging along with them as they visit two other major Buddhist pilgrimage locations in the region: Bodh Gaya, the place where Buddha attained enlightenment, and Nalanda, the location of the oldest Buddhist university.

And I said, "Sure, why not?" Chances like this, to travel around historical Buddhist sites with folks who know a great deal about them only comes around once in a lifetime, right?

Sadly, Allen can't come because of a number of complications* ... but I'm betting I'll some pretty entertaining stories when I get back.
_________________________________
* Read: Interestingly, buying last minute train tickets the night before departure is is more likely that the women's compartment will be relatively empty than not.... Plus, isn't he doing some sort of research something or other .... [scratching head]

Bhaat Kate!

... is the cry you hear from roof-tops during Kitcheree when a kite is cut and comes floating gently back down to earth. The kite-flying festival, or Kitcheree as it is known in Banaras, happens every year in the middle of January. This Wikipedia article calls the festival Makar Sankranti and says it is a holy Hindu celebration of the harvest and sun ... that somewhat uniquely is celebrated all over India. In Uttar Pradesh it is celebrated with lots and lots and lots of kite-flying. On the 14th and the 15th (choti kitcheree and bure kitcheree respectively - big and small) the sky was packed with hundreds of kits, sub log patank urate te (everyone was flying kites)!

Here's a video I made of all the fun we had flying kites on our rooftop in Banaras... We might not have gotten much better at flying kites, but we certainly have more experience (for whatever that is worth).

Let's Go Fly a Kite! from Nikki on Vimeo.

Kitcheree Kite Flying Festival, Banaras, India Jan 2011

The Smörgåsbord Post: Card Games, Monkey Attacks, HHDL, Homelessness, Extreme Cold, and Skin Freakouts

So, this is going to be a really weird post. I recognize that and am apologizing to you in advance.... it has just been a REALLY weird couple weeks back in India.

We told you already about all the fun we had visiting family this holiday season: weddings, winter-wonderlands, you name it!

We finally landed in Delhi, exhausted, but incredibly excited to spend the next week with our friend's Hamsa and Danika. We all made fast friends last year bonding while we waited for 3 hours at the Banaras FRRO office* ... the big pay off in this relationship though, is that they are a card-game playing family too! We've finally found another couple to play bridge and pinochle** with! We made good use of our time in Delhi to have a couple of marathon card playing sessions. You can see our set up below; we're all ringed around the coffee table, we've got two blowers(ie, glorified hair dryers) to raise the temperature, and we've sealed off half of the living room with blankets (to increase the efficacy of the fancy hair dryers).***

My, what a nice hand you have Allen

We had other adventures too...

Danika and I went to see His Holiness the Dali Lama speak. He was wonderful. His giggling is infectious. He taught on the different levels of happiness - and the strongest message I took away from his lecture was: doing good for others, in the long run, makes us all happier, so we would do well to focus more on others than just ourselves. Not a bad take away, given we were nearly trampled on the way into the auditorium and almost froze from exposure b/c the space was in no way weather-proof. I wonder if there was another lesson in there...

The boys, on the other hand, were attacked by a very protective mommy monkey. She and her baby have been hanging around the balcony of the flat for a while ... But one day when the boys were home doing laundry she came after them. I've embedded below the video Hamsa took of the monkey attacking the window. You can hear the boys trying to make noise against the window to scare her away - but that only seems to antagonize her more.

Intense, no? None of us have ever seen a monkey be so aggressive. We wondered if it was because she seemed to be alone. Usually, you see these types of monkeys in large family packs (males, females, babies...), but maybe since she's by herself she feels overly protective of her newborn... although, really, the baby seemed to be way less scared of us than we were of it.

Adventures aside, after a full week in Delhi, I was feeling a tremendous amount of "country-displacement" vertigo; one minute I was in the United States, the next I was in India. Living in Delhi is no cake walk, and I don't want to paint it as such (what with the increased incidence of asthma, insane traffic, perpetual construction, and weather extremes... just to name a few). But I sometimes forget that in Delhi one has access to a whole host of creature comforts that we had all but given up on in Uttar Pradesh. So, especially when we were visiting friends with 24/7 electricity and blowers and decent wine (what?!) and access to cheese and good Thai food (double what?!) and can BAKE (triple what!?) cherry strudel in their toaster ovens (where the hell am I!?).... well, let's just say it gets complicated. Spending time with our friends in Delhi was like being in a warm cocoony blanket of things-I-miss-from-home that I seriously had difficulty leaving.

But leave we eventually did for our apartment in Banaras. Oh wait, that's right, no we didn't. There was some confusion from our hosts about what date we were returning to Banaras - so we had to stay in a hotel in their non-AC room (read: with an air vent to the outside) for two FREEZING and surprisingly mosquito-filled evenings. Complain, complain, I know... But it just got us started off on the wrong foot, if you know what I mean. It took us longer to regroup in Banaras than we had been expecting.

And just to spice things up, my hands, face and neck are covered in eczema. I had been having trouble with my hands before we left for the States. I assumed it was just some crazy allergy I had, so in advance of returning I was taking Zyrtec as a preventative measure. Lot of good that did (click to enlarge the photos for the full affect)

I'm personally at a real loss for what to do next. I think it is heat rash around my neck and face because of the extreme of the cold outside of the warm blankets we use at night - seriously, I'm not joking. My hands... no clue. An allergy of some sort, I'm guessing - but the speed and violence of the attack, despite having taken preventative meds, is a little baffling. If extremes of temperatures really is my problem, then there isn't anything I can do about it. Inside the house (day and night) temperatures are hovering around, my best guess is, 45 degrees ... outside, with the sun beating down on you it is closer to 70 degrees ... but by the time the sun goes down...

There is no good way to stay a comfortable temperature. Couple that with my face and neck burning with itch and my hands so .... what is the word ... sensitive that they sting anytime I use them.... well, I'm not really a happy camper at the moment, to put it mildly.

So it has been REALLY REALLY strange for us coming back "home" ... I commend any of you readers who have made it to the end of this post because ... this is just weird what has been happening lately.

Hopefully, I'll have happier stories to share after the kite festival this weekend!

________________________________

* Foreigners Regional Registration Office. Registration is required for most long-stay visas, like research visas.

** One day I hope to be able to spell this game's name without having to always look it up.

*** I'm sure to have mentioned how insanely cold it gets in North India during the winter time. Frequently it is warmer outside, in the sun, than it is indoors.

Happy New Years!

We had a really relaxing and chill New Year's Eve celebration with our family this year. Food was eaten, jokes were told, drinks were drunk, pool was played, and fun was had by all! By now we're back in Delhi (after another marathon journey) while Allen is preparing for a fellowship conference this weekend. But we couldn't stop without saying that ....

We wish you and yours have a wonderful, eventful, and happy New Year!