How many religions can we cover in three weeks?

Answer: 4. Hinduism, Jainism, Buddhism, and Christianity.

The River Ganges

Varanasi is one of the holiest cities is India, for Hindus, Buddhists, and Jains alike. Located on the Ganges, Hindus believe that bathing in the river washes away ones sins, and that dying in Varanasi releases one’s soul from the long series of reincarnations. The highlight of Varanasi was our 5am boat ride, on which we got to intimately view the daily activities centered around the Ganges. In addition to bathing, brushing their teeth, and doing their laundry in the beyond polluted river ,approximately 200 people are cremated on the banks every day.* It is believed that bathing in the Ganges purifies ones soul, and has been said to heal incurable diseases. Strangely enough, despite the fact that most villages downriver from Varanasi suffer from high rates of water borne illness, most of those whose bath in Varanasi, find surprisingly different results, and are living proof of the power of faith. 

While staying in Varanasi, we also visited the city of Sarnath, remembered as the place where Buddha first preached. Sarnath is also home to a beautiful Jain temple, and is a pilgrimage site for Jains. After Varanasi, we took another sleeper (at this rate, Denise barely needed her sleeping pills to doze off), to Darjeeling. 

Cremations on the Ganges

After traveling throughout a number of the Northern bustling cities of India, we spent four days in Darjeeling. Located in the Himalayas, Darjeeling is known for its previous role as a major tea supplier for the British East India Company. The culture of Darjeeling is in many ways more Tibetan than Indian. The region is in many ways geographically separated from the rest of the nation. In fact, in order to reach the city, we had to take a four hour jeep ride, reminiscent of Disney’s Indian Jones Ride. The climb, comprised of infinite S-turns, was both breathtaking and perilous. Upon arrival to our Tibetan-themed hotel, we immediately dropped our bags, desperate to explore in a city where being outside didn’t equate with being covered in sweat. We were well rewarded. The city, in addition to being much more manageable and self-navigable, offers a friendly environment, lush landscapes for hiking and exploring, and spontaneous “look out posts,” where you can get a glimpse of the tallest peaks in the world. 

While there, we spent as much time as possible outside, despite the nearly incessant rains. We spent an afternoon perusing the extensive Botanical Gardens, woke at dawn to view the sunrise over the Himalayas, familiarized ourself with the animals indigenous to the region at the zoo, and feasted on various dishes from Indian, Chinese, and Tibetan cuisines. Darjeeling, as is appropriate for a major tea supplier, is a classic coffee shop, hippy joint, kick back city. Four days wasn’t nearly enough.

Darjeeling

Arriving in Kolkata after our leisurely stay in Darjeeling only served to magnify the stark differences between the two cities. Kolkata, once the capital of British India, lived up to its shabby reputation in many ways. Among other things, Kolkata is known for its slums, beggars, and child prostitution. While some argue that Kolkata can be extraordinary, if you just know where to go, as independent travelers, even walking down the main streets was demoralizing. The destitution and filth was unforgivable, and to be perfectly honest, the government should be downright ashamed for their inability or unwillingness to make any strides. Visiting Kolkata allowed me to drop the pretense that “everything’s alright.” We have both traveled in developing countries, and both have the ability to see things in the context of their culture. We both acknowledge differences while reserving judgement, and to appreciate the distinctiveness and beauty of other lands. However, during our visit to Kolkata, we saw too much of the extreme poverty and inexcusable societal indifference to the environment and to human dignity. While we visited some of the historical sites, many of which were relics of British colonialism, our overall experience was disheartening. The redemption of our stay in Kolkata, was our visit to Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity House. A small museum has been erected on the ground floor, and additionally, visitors can see her tomb, and her personal room, still in the sparse and humbling conditions she left it. 

Mumbai, while also known for its urban slums, was nothing compared to Kolkata. The spirited port city takes much pride in its maintenance. It is much cleaner, and it’s clear that the people and government have made a concerted effort to address many of the societal and environmental woes plaguing the country as a whole. We ate our way through Mumbai, enjoying everything from fresh mango juice, to authentic Chinese food, and topping it off with imported Coronas. Additionally, we spent several hours on the sea, as we journeyed to Elephanta island. The island is home to ancient caves filled stone carvings and shrines dedicated primarily to Shiva, thought to have been created between 450 and 750 AD. As we traveled south, the weather became cooler, and while Mumbai was humid, we found the temperature, in the mid 80s, quite pleasant. 

Our final destination was Bangalore, as this is where Kat will be spending the seven weeks interning. Bangalore is known as the silicone valley of India, where all those outsourced calls are answered. Due to the rapid economic development of the city, it is representative of the modern India. The effects of globalization and the rise of industry can be seen in everything from gender roles to attire to the proliferation of American establishments. The city, despite its technological growth spurt, is much cleaner, younger, and more Western. While we saw, enjoyed, and experienced a wide range of Indian cities, Bangalore renewed our hope in the future of India. Even the beggars in Bangalore are cleaner and better dressed than any we’ve seen yet. The municipal and state governments have taken many efforts to clean up the city, and to instill greater attitudes of social responsibility. While we don’t pretend to understand the intricacies of Indian culture and the vastly diverse populations and traditions that comprise India, many of the conditions we witnessed in the various places we visited were disheartening. However, we certainly did enjoy our travels and our time together, and the experiences we shared in India, in addition to the lessons we learned, people we met, and places we saw, will stay in our hearts forever. 

Stay tuned for updates from Kat as she interns with Ubuntu at Work!

Namaste!

*Safe bathing water should have 500 faecal coliform bacteria per 100mL of water or less, while the Ganges has 1.5 million. We were told that bodies are often deposited into the Ganges instead of being cremated. Thought this was a hyperbole until we actually saw a floating, bloated body. 

The important role religion played in my life, as a vaguely Christian agnostic

Reflections on visiting Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity House, Kolkata

“Peace begins with a smile.” -Mother Teresa

This past Sunday, Denise and I visited Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity House. I’ve recently reflected quite a lot on the role of religion in my life, and the combination of the visit to Mother Teresa’s home, and the extreme, base poverty that we have glimpsed throughout the country, led to a long rumination session.

I’ve never been quite sure that Jesus was literally the son of God. I’ve never necessarily thought “well yes, God is quite the literal creature portrayed in Christian religious texts. He has emotions and very deliberative plans and intentions.” There have been times, on and off, throughout my life, where I have identified as a Christian. However, I’ve never been sure. I’ve never had unwavering faith, which pretty much disqualifies me.

However, Christianity has played an important, even transformative role in my life. This has come from my interaction with four different institutions. The first was a church in my home town, which had a number of youth outreach programs. Overall, I’d say my interactions with them were, to be blunt, counterproductive. At age six, my mom picked me up from their Kiwanis program to find them teaching me a song along the lines of “I’m no kin to the monkey, the monkey’s no kin to me.” Brainwashing kinders to not believe in evolution. Classic. I once again found myself involved with the church in middle school, when I attended their weekly youth group. It was all fun and games until the youth pastor explained that homosexuality was an abomination. Gay rights were what got me interested in politics. I was defending gay marriage before I was in the double digits. You tell me your God thinks homosexuality is an abomination and I say no thanks, I’ll take the hell hounds. Plus, even at age eleven, I could already tell you one thing with utmost confidence- there was no way any deity could sustain itself for eternity on hate, vengeance, and conceit. Even then I was not about to be sold on any God that wasn’t all about love. 

Mother Teresa's Tomb

Fortunately, this wasn’t the end of my relationship with Christianity. I began attending a local Methodist church in eighth grade. They hooked me. The central themes to every sermon were love and tolerance. And through the youth group I developed strong relationships and engaged in a variety of service projects. This included the Sierra Service Project [SSP], through which our youth group journeyed to Native American reservations each summer to build and repair homes. 

SSP was one of the highlights of my youth. It was the closest I ever felt to a literal Christian God. It was at SSP that I built a relationship of prayer and communication with God, and it was at SSP that I learned to see God in every day life. You see a group of American teens, taking a week of their summer to labor in the heat, surviving on PB&Js, sleeping on gym floors and showering in locker rooms, and you know there has got to be something greater than yourself, than your minute world. It was through SSP that I learned how to get closer to God through service. Because helping others, reaching out to those in need, and participating in rewarding community service, allows you to see a higher purpose than your own life, allows you to see that love, after all, really is all you need. An attitude of love binds us in solidarity to every one of our 7 billion fellow humans. And an attitude of love refuses to let us overlook the suffering of others. 

Third and fourth came in the form of my Catholic education, at Mission College Prep and now at Georgetown University. The Catholic nature of Georgetown has been a mixed bag, in terms of my relationship with religion. I mean, religious organizations play a huge humanitarian role internationally, however I sometimes wonder how much more could be done, if people worried less about unborn fetuses and more about the ample suffering of living humans. As an international health major, interested in reproductive health and rights, I often get frustrated when my university refuses to cover contraception in their student health insurance plan, or when they refuse to recognize H*yas for Choice. However, I have also seen the role that Jesuit values play in shaping our campus community. I have seen a huge focus on Interfaith service and religious pluralism. And I have seen our very own Jesuits stand up against politicians who call themselves “Catholic” while drafting budgets that disregard the plight of poor Americans. 

Prior to that however, I attended Catholic high school. At Mission, despite the occasional heated debates over gay marriage, the Catholic backbone of the school played a key role in my development. Between the participation in community service, the reflective and intimate retreats, the inclusion of social justice in the curriculum, and the daily prayers and intentions offered, I honestly believe that it made me much more of a “woman for others,” as the motto goes. 

While I no longer participate in service for God, Christianity was the vessel through which I developed a greater sense of obligation to humanity at large, a greater sense of solidarity with dissimilar peoples. And there were so many other crucial lessons I learned while at Mission, many of which take a lifetime to learn. For Christians, it means constantly striving to live in Christ’s image. But one can embark upon the same journey through any religion, or even without religion. One friend of mine, an unwavering atheist, claims that her atheism is just as much of a belief and value system. For her, the fact that she has just one corporeal life to live, makes her strive that much harder to live it fully, and to better this world. She has no get-out-of-jail-free card in the form of an afterlife or Kingdom of Heaven. Her atheism has given her a higher purpose in life.

Now don’t get me wrong. The ultimate credit goes to my parents. Prior to Sierra Service Project, or my first mass at Mission (when I thought I heard the priest saying “uterus,” not knowing what “eucharist” meant), my parents had served as my greatest teachers and models. However, there are a lot of influences in a child’s life, and the various Christian institutions and people in my life reinforced the values my parents had instilled in me. My parents are some of the most loving, welcoming people I’ve ever met in my life. Sure, my mother has never sugar coated a thing in her life, and my dad may be a rascally Jersey boy, but they are honest, extremely hard working, and steadfastly loyal and committed to the people in their lives. Our door is always open (figuratively and literally, thank god there is minimal crime in Cayucos). People are always stopping by, coming into our home, and while we may not be Martha-Stewart-status hosts, their love and acceptance of others is sincerity epitomized.

India is vibrant and colorful, its culture is rich and multi-faceted, yet its also a land of extreme discrepancies. India is hard. India makes you confront things about yourself and your worldview. I’ve only been here for three weeks, primarily as a tourist. I’m sure my entire view of the country and the people will continue to shift and expand throughout the duration of my internship. Yet already, I’ve learned and changed and questioned myself and the world.

You don’t have to seek it out. Opting to walk instead of hopping in a taxi, or spending any time at all at a railway station is enough. Whole city blocks smelling of urine, heaping piles of trash on the sidewalks, and wide eyed children, with dirt-matted hair and rags for clothes, are permanent urban fixtures. At its worst, I’ve found myself shying away from the outstretched arms of beggars. Avoiding even brushing against people. As though I don’t even want them to touch me. I feel so ashamed, because there have been times when, faced with extreme, degrading poverty, I felt disgusted before sympathetic. Like I said, you are forced to confront things about yourself.

To some extent I knew this going in. Already, my experience has been just as challenging as it has been exciting. But I’m up for the challenge. I’ve already found limitations to my comfort zone, and this experience will only serve to expand those boundaries. And the challenges, the awareness, the confrontation of my own limits and deficiencies, will undoubtedly be invaluable, rewarding, and transformative. They will, inshallah, help me along the long path to become the better person I strive to be. I mean- I’m twenty. I have ambitions and ideals, but I am still an egocentric young adult, more focused on her own day-to-day than the lives of those in far corners of the world. This experience, in allowing me to understand another sliver of the world, in forcing me to question and question and question, can only be for the better.

Border Patrol and Temples Galore

By Kat and Denise


Parting Delhi, we took the six hour train ride to Amritsar, on a air conditioned train with an 800 course meal, including multiple rounds of tea, and several more rounds of tea, in addition to more tea. Our first afternoon in Amritsar, after taking a tuc tuc to our hotel, hidden down a sketch alley called Hotel Lane, we were greeted by an extraordinarily shy Sikh man, who was not accustomed to interacting with the opposite gender. He was quite polite, but laughed awkwardly after everything he said to us. The room was pleasantly sufficient and the food was magnificent. 

We spent our first afternoon, venturing to the Pakistan border, which was half an hour away. In the scorching heat, we found ourselves in the daily mob of proud, enthusiastic Indians waiting to show down with Pakistan. Every single day, since the time of the Partition, the two countries have engaged in a theatrically orchestrated military show down, at the time of the border closing at sunset. The crowd surged forward as one, after being let in through the first gate, through an entrance no larger than a doorframe. After a short a walk, the foreigners were ushered through a separate gate. The arena itself was divided on the India side into Indians, and then within the foreigners VIP section, we were essentially divided by race. The guards, with their rooster caps and shrill whistles, had a hell of a time with one biracial couple, and tried several times to determine their proper placement. As we spent about an hour waiting for the official festivities to begin, and slowly becoming drenched in our own sweat, we were entertained with chanting, flag running, and a spontaneous (though probably daily) Bollywood danceathon that consisted of women, girls, and a few young boys. When the time came for the official walk off, the rooster capped guards in their high water khakis, nearly concussed themselves as they marched towards the border gate, reminiscent of Monty Python. Across the border, the Pakistani guards followed suit, with high kicks to make cheerleaders proud. The actual ceremony lasted approximately 20 minutes, after the hour plus pregame. We were in awe of the patriotism, pride, and energy demonstrated by the at-least-one-thousand attendees, most of whom return every night.  Temples, forts, and holy rivers aside, this was definitely an absolute highlight of the trip. 

The Mata Temple...

While in Amritsar, in addition to Kat’s 2pm marathon nap (coma?) from which she woke at 7am the next morning, we visited the Sikh Golden Temple, the historic Jallianwala Bagh, and the eerie Mata Temple. Amritsar, located in the Punjab, is a predominantly Sikh area. According to our shy Sikh, Sikhs pride themselves on being hard working, honest, and family oriented. Additionally, they have historically been much more tolerant of other religions and peoples. At the temple, they serve meals to over 40,000 people of all different religions, castes, and ethnicities. Daily. In order to enter, one must remove and check their shoes, wash their feet, and cover their head. Upon approaching the temple from the questionable neighborhood surroundings, we were impressed but not astounded as the white marbled building loomed before us. However, the gem is hidden just inside. Within is an enormous pool, on which the dazzling golden shrine itself is reflected. Even though we visited at dawn, the wait to enter the inner temple itself must’ve taken six hours. The view itself however was breathtaking, and the entire place had a tangibly sacred aura. 

Jallianwala Bagh, once merely a popular meeting grounds in downtown Amritsar, was made famous during the fight for independence against the British, when colonial soldiers opened fire on peaceful protesters, leaving many dead, and opening the eyes of the world, to the injustice of the British rule. The park allowed no escape, and in addition to the many killed by gunfire, a number jumped to their death in what is now known as Martyr’s Well. The crowd was civilian, and no mercy was spared even the women and children. The park now stands as a walking memorial to honor the citizens who lost their lives to free India. 

Another gem at the Mata Temple

The Mata Temple. Kat’s favorite. Pretty sure she spent the next week saying “remember the Mata Temple,” and giggling at least once a day. The Mata Temple celebrates female deities and is often visited by women hoping to become pregnant. The temple itself was advertised as a cave temple, but was comprised of a manmade labyrinth and cement tunnels. The entire maze was decorated with colorful, eerie, its-a-small-world style statues, carvings, mosaics and shrines within caged off shrines. We were encouraged to pray and give offerings to the deities, and were given sugary rice krispies and flower petals, ground into cheese-like blocks. Denise was certain her mother must’ve come here before marriage, as she clearly had deity like fertility. 

After Amritsar, we took our first sleeper train, and spent a day in Agra. Despite being over 115 degrees outside, in the unshaded heat and in the reflection of white marble, the Taj Mahal was still spectacular. There is no way one could overrate the beauty and awe-inspiring nature of the Taj Mahal. Despite the fact that we had both seen a million pictures, walking on to the grounds was still surreal. As it turns out, the mausoleum is open 3 days a year. Coincidentally, it was open during our visit, in honor of the birthday of the woman to whom it was devoted. We spent a few more hours in Agra, before boarding another sleeper, to Varanasi. 

Arriving and Surviving (The Beginning)

By Kat and Denise

We arrived at noon on Saturday, in New Delhi. Armed with nothing but a name and address, we rode the 2 hot miles to Hotel Blessings via bicycle rickshaws. After settling in our (air conditioned, thank god) room, we went for a walk to a nearby bustling bazaar loaded with daily goods for locals and souvenirs for tourists, alike. 

Jama Majid 

Initially, we explored the bazaar, fighting to suppress our culture shock. Our curiosity and excitement, hand in hand with the vibrance of Delhi, helped us overcome our surprise at our dirty and dusty surroundings, the extreme poverty evident ten times over on every city block. Yet this is what we bargained for. We knew what we were getting ourselves in to. For most Americans, India is not an “easy” vacation, but rather an enriching and challenging adventure. One has to be able to look past the apparent  injustices and inequities within and between countries, and learn to strip away ethnocentric understandings and judgements on the meaning of life, success, and happiness. Because in reality, happiness isn’t dependent on wealth, material possessions, or just one socially constructed definition of success. 

Humayun's Tomb

Our second day, we took a marathon tour of Delhi, with the help of Bhanu, our new friend and travel advisor. He arranged for an unassuming man, by the name of Anil, to drive us around to enumerable sights, including the Red Fort, Jama Masjid, Humayun’s Tomb, Qutb Minar, the Bahai Lotus Temple, and Lodhi Garden. While our ability to communicate with Anil was minimal, his deep understanding of the city, and the comfort of an air conditioned taxi, were all we needed. Each of these sights, was a popular tourist destination, not just for foreigners, but for Indians hailing from all parts of the country. Yet, at each of these sights, to many, we were a novelty. We were repeatedly approached by men, women, and children alike to pose for a photo with them. We’d often try to communicate with our new friends, but while everyone said they spoke english, hoping to practice and sincerely wanting to help, most knew only a few select words. 

Qutb Minar

We went into this trip knowing that we both have the tendency to do too much. Within 24 hours, we broke our own rule (or the one that Kirk Wilson proposed), which was to pace ourselves, in order to not overwhelm ourselves. We learned quickly that we don’t need to see every single tourist sight. With lessons learned, we ended the day with a tour of Old Delhi, and delicious North Indian cuisine with Bhanu. 

Lotus Temple

Monday, we did a handful of errands, worked with Bhanu and a number of agents at the train station, to develop our itinerary. We found ourselves much more relaxed and assimilated for our train ride to Amritsar on Tuesday. 

In India, a Smile is Always Returned

The people are all curious smiles, brilliantly clothed, and watchful following eyes. It doesn’t take much for me to fall in love with a city, a culture, a people. In India, it was the smiles that won me over. From our first rickshaw driver, with yellowing teeth separated by thick maroon gums, I learned that the beauty of a smile comes from the heart, not the color, shape, or order of the teeth. No one is ever in too much of a hurry to smile at you. I’ve felt very welcomed in India from the start.

Coming from the beautiful 60s of Cayucos, the heat of India has been the hardest adjustment. Within five minutes of being outside, you are covered in a light sheen of sweat, dust sticking to your skin, and within twenty, you can feel nike-advertisement-style-droplets of sweat sliding down your spine, and dust in every crease of your knuckles. The streets are a constant stream of honks and rapid acceleration and deceleration. One taxi driver informed us that there are three things one needs, driving in India: good brakes, a good horn, and good luck. Bull, horse, even camel carts can be seen on the roads, in addition to rickshaws, tuc tucs, motorcycles (have seen 5 person families lined up on one), and shrunken cars (I swear, all the vehicles are smaller. Vans are the size of my civic). 

We’re learning quickly. About ourselves, and about the country. Thus, I’ve developed a set of initial lessons and goals.

Lesson 1: You can’t experience the culture or understand the people if you spend all your time meandering around ancient buildings drowning in tourists. 

Lesson 2: No matter what your occupation, your socioeconomic status, no matter where you live, and on how much you live, life can always be a journey, not a destination. I’ve seen people whose lives look a lot harder, whose days look a lot longer than 95% of the people I know in America, and yet they are all smiles, life, and energy. 

Personal Goals

1. No cholera. With 9 weeks in India, spending 6 in rural, impoverished villages- there is a decent chance I’ll get sick at some point. However, my number one health aversion is against cholera. 
2. Don’t let the heat, exhaustion, cultural differences, etc. ever take away from the experience, or prevent me from getting everything out of this experience that I can. This first week has been thrilling, yet tiring. However, I’m sure there will be times that I’ll miss the fresh, sea breeze air of Cayucos, or the ability to take out my frustration on the rugby pitch. However, I will strive to not let these feelings minimize my experience. 
3. Learn an alphabet and develop a small vocab of either Hindi or Kannada
4. Get better at bargaining. I either get indignant or give in to being ripped off...
5. Learn. Always. Corollary: Learn from people. Listen and learn from people's personal stories and individual experiences. 
6. Develop a legit Indian wardrobe menagerie. Must get sari and salwar kameez. Animal prints better. I now have a zebra dress and elephant pants. FTW. 
7. Develop a stronger sense of daily gratitude.

Watch out for a joint update from Mama Denise and I later today!