Friday 23 March 2012

The "Auto" Side of Life

What trip to India would be complete without a ride in an auto rickshaw? 

Example of the ratio of autos to other vehicles

Making up easily half of the vehicles I see on the roads of Chennai, these little yellow and black vehicles offer cheap and quick transportation around the city. And, unlike air conditioned taxies, the sights, sounds and smells of the city easily reach your senses through their open air sides. While riding in an auto rickshaw, you experience a truly unique viewpoint on India... that is, when your life isn't flashing before your eyes. 



Safety in an auto rickshaw is solely dependent on your driver. Some seem to make it their business to squeeze through the tightest traffic gaps and speed along the very edge of the road, dodging hapless pedestrians. For protection, many drivers plaster their autos with pictures of religious icons. 



Ironically, every auto is equipped with a meter... which is rarely, if ever, actually working. The price for the trip is haggled over prior to departure, but don't be surprised if they try to increase the price upon arriving at your destination. However, as the extra is usually less than a dollar, its hard to find the will to argue. 

On the plus side, one of the unexpected benefits of these trips have been the inadvertent ab workouts - amazing what being constantly braced for impact while you struggle to maintain your balance on the slippery seat in a weaving auto will do for your core muscles. Of course, this is a moot point when you off-set the workout with masala dosas... 




Saturday 17 March 2012

Churidars, Saris and Kurtis - oh my!


(IndianSelections.com)

The most enduring picture most people have of Indian fashion is the sari. Found in every colour, pattern and material under the sun, these beautiful outfits brighten up even the most dreary traffic jam. However, living in Chennai is rapidly making it very clear that there is actually a wide variety of different styles of clothing for women to choose from. It's enough to make even the most fashionable western woman jealous. And, although I arrived with plenty of clothing to get me through the next few months, who could resist the temptation of an Indian shopping trip?

(ChuridarSuits.com)

Aside from the ubiquitous sari, there are two other popular options for women's wear here in the city (aside form western clothes of course). The first is the traditional churidar. The term actually refers to the pants worn underneath a long tunic (called a kameez). These are designed to be very big at the top (with a drawstring) and ankle length. When purchasing, you often find the tops, pants and scarves pre-packaged as sets. The other option, more modern and popular with younger girls, are kurtis. These are similar to the churidar tops except they are shorter and designed to be worn with leggings.

(Sakhiindia.blog.com)

Being young and relatively hip, I decided the kurti was the style I'd feel the most comfortable in. Tunics and leggings have been popular for years and are possibly the outfit you'd be most likely to see me in while running around London. Therefore, I thought it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to switch to the Indian versions. However, before you can purchase a new outfit, you must of course find the store. And so, my friend and I headed off like young people all over the world: to the mall.


Skywalk Mall

It's amazing how comforting a familiar environment can be in a city so different from anywhere I've lived before (ignoring the fact that I used to live in Chennai... I was only two...). While I was honestly a bit alarmed to see such a commercial and western oriented place, I found I was also immediately at home surrounded by the brightly coloured shops, escalators, cafes, arcades and, of course, the movie theater. Although, I will admit to being pleasantly (and extremely) surprised by the indoor ice skating rink. The size of a small shop with blue lights reflecting off the ice, it was so distracting that I neglected to take a photo. Of course, this is a perfect example of the first lesson any visitor to India needs to keep in mind: expect the unexpected. In addition, there were other more obvious differences between this mall and those in America... specifically, the outfits on the mannequins:




After having a quick wander around the mall, we settled in at Biba for what turned out to be a very successful shopping excursion. Half an hour later, I left armed with five kurtis, two sets of leggings and a light cotton scarf. In London, my wardrobe is fairly predictable with solid colour tops, black leggings or blue jeans, and boots. However, when in India... well, the magpie desire for shine, colour and pattern quickly wins out.

The longest of the kurtis, worn with black capri leggings 

Close up of pattern



Four of the five, plus the leggings. 
While I am currently feeling very overwhelmed by all the different patterns that now inhabit my wardrobe, I have been reassured by the positive reception they have received so far. 











While still not blending in by any means, I am feeling at least a bit less conspicuous!

Wednesday 14 March 2012

Indian television

Sometimes, you just need a personal day. For me, today was that day. 

Since I arrived here in Chennai (and, if I'm honest, even before I left Italy) I have been stressing about getting my research started, sorting things out with YRGCARE and finding a flat for my stay. And even though yesterday was generally quite a good one, I just felt completely run down and jetlagged this morning. Since my mentor preferred to meet tomorrow, I decided to stay in, relax and just rebalance my self a bit. 

To pass the time (and keep myself from napping - thereby undoing all the anti-jetlag work I've managed!) I spent most of the day in front of the television while surfing the internet. Lazy? Definitely. However, today actually gave me further insights into Indian cultural practices and norms through the advertisements and shows.  

The most obvious difference with television here in India versus that in the United States or Britain has to be the proliferation of skin lightening cream advertisements. It seems that every international cosmetics brand has created a lotion to sell here in India that promises to remove pigmentation, lighten skin's general appearance, and, as a result, give you a happier, more successful life. 

L'Oreal's Vichy skincare range
In some commercial breaks, the ads for skin lightening treatments and creams made up more than half of those shown. Its particularly strange to see an ad for a cream that I'm familiar with back home, such as Olay's Total Effects range, being promoted for different reasons. For example, instead of highlighting the anti-wrinkle factors, the focus was on the skin brightening element (and therefore giving you a lighter appearance). 

Dove
The cultural focus on lighter skin has in the past been tied to racism, the caste system and lingering ideas of society from the days of colonialism. However, the target audience seems to be, from my limited observations, to be young unmarried men and women. The ads are telling them that lighter skin will make them happier, more attractive to the opposite sex (and therefore more attractive as a marriage partner), and more successful in their careers. This makes me feel that these companies are playing on the type of insecurities that all young people have, at a point in their lives when a lot of their future is still undetermined. 

Fair and Handsome: enough said.
The other unique element of Indian television comes from the subjects and words that are considered offensive to particular audiences. While watching a show about Italian cooking and feeling a bit homesick, I was distracted by a word being 'bleeped' out every few minutes. Since delicious Italian food doesn't usually lend itself to cursing sprees, I wondered what the problem could be. The offensive word? Beef. Despite knowing that India's Hindu population makes up around 80% of the country, I hadn't realized that the act of cooking beef on a television food program would be considered so offensive that it had to be removed. 

By far, however, my favorite commercial has to be from IndiGo a low cost airline. Very clever! 


Tuesday 13 March 2012

"Stop! Sound Horn!"

Breakfast: Pongal, Vada, Iddli, Coconut Chutney, smothered in Sambar. 

Today I began my first full day in Chennai with a traditional south Indian breakfast. While the Iddli, small white steamed cakes made of rice and lentils, brought back memories of smothering them in sugar as a child, the other elements were a bit less familiar. Pongal is made of rice mashed together with spices and ghee to form a thick paste. It was very tasty but the consistency means you should go slowly as to avoid feeling overly full later. Even with such small portions, I still wasn't hungry by the evening. Along with the Iddli and Pongal, I tried a Vada, which is essentially a small savory donut. Finally, my love of condiments was rewarded with a light coconut chutney and the Sambar, a tomato lentil sauce, which I added to everything. After such a tasty start to the day, I was feeling confident about venturing out on my own. 

Chennai traffic with a background of ever present advertisements.

Upon arriving in Chennai, the first and most visible element of life in this southern Indian city is of course the traffic. Like most Indian cities, the sheer number of cars, buses, auto rickshaws, bicycles, motorcycles and pedestrians can be overwhelming to visitors. Leaving the airport and making your way onto the highway that leads into the center of the city, the roads appear to be complete chaos with an 'anything goes' attitude. However, when looking more closely, it is apparent that there exists a method to the madness, a shared knowledge among drivers that creates an intricate dance along the pavement. 

Pedestrian, Bicycle, and Auto Rickshaw


"Autos" tut-tut their way around the city while overcrowded buses with their windows removed (for air circulation) lumber from stop to stop. Motorcycles and bicycles weave in and out of the spaces created as traffic starts and stops, trying to get just that tiny bit further ahead. The sound of beeps and honks is almost constant with "Stop! Sound Horn" - the popular slogan hand painted onto the backs of trucks, buses and autos - being taken literally. Here in India, the horn is used rarely to signify anger or frustration at other drivers. Instead, it is primarily used to convey location to drivers ahead when overtaking. Short, rapid fire bursts of sound stating "I am here, please be attentive" are appreciated by all those involved as it helps to avoid accidents. 



Roadside coconut stand

This morning was my first real experience with Chennai traffic as my hired taxi wound its way through the city in search of the Taramani headquarters of the Y.R. Gaitonde Center for AIDS Research and Education. Located to the south of the city center, YRGCARE is housed in a large building where they provide doctors visits, counselling services, nutritional advice and pharmacy supplies to HIV-positive individuals along side their research pursuits. This one-stop-shopping approach has proved extremely successful here in Chennai as their studies found patients who had to see a doctor in one location and a counsellor in another before finally making their way to still a third location to collect medications were less likely to adhere to their prescriptions due to the high cost of travel and the loss of time needed for work or family commitments. By providing everything in one place, YRGCARE has helped to increase the adherence rates of individuals on anti-retroviral medications. In addition, this method allows for increased privacy as individuals are able to quickly complete their business and continue on rather than incurring suspicion from family, friends and neighbors as they race all over town. 



The recognition of these local concerns was part of the reason I applied to YRGCARE's internship program because my research focuses on exactly these issues which differentiate local epidemics from the greater global pandemic. While there is a general universal approach to HIV (increase awareness, decrease stigma, prevent further infections through safe sexual practices, etc), it is the local differences and unique cultural issues that will determine the success rate in one country verses another. 

When I arrived at the building, I was disappointed to find that my assigned mentor was actually not in today having been called up to New Delhi on business. However, the day was actually surprisingly successful as I was given a tour of the impressive facilities, finalized documents for my research with the representative of the Institutional Review Board (IRB), and finally, heard a presentation by Dr. Suniti Solomon about the history of the organization and how it has grown into its current form. The presentation, attended by one other young researcher, covered the period from 1986 when Dr. Solomon first discovered the presence of HIV in Chennai to the present, including the different programs they have started, their locations over the years, and the responses of government officials to her work. Peppered with personal observations and memories of conversations, presentations and meetings with celebrities, this was a presentation so rich in information it was hard to take in. Once I recovered from being slightly starstruck at meeting Dr. Solomon, I listened intently while trying to simultaneously scribble everything down, a habit that amused my companions. 

While it is impossible to share the entire presentation in this format, I'd like to point out several of the most interesting parts (in my opinion): 

- 1986: Dr. Solomon tells her research assistant that she would like to look for HIV in Chennai, and is greeted with the response: "We won't find AIDS because we have no homosexuals in India and we are all religious... I will fail my MD!" Uncertain of how to seek out the underground gay community, the ladies instead turned to commercial sex workers who had been rounded up by the police. After arrest, they are taken to a remand home to await their court appointment the next morning. Taking advantage of this system, the ladies were able to collect samples from 100 commercial sex workers, of which they found six to be positive for HIV. These results shocked India, to the point where government officials refused to believe them. Rather than being impressed by the dedication given to finding the virus' presence in India, the women received a "mouthful of scolding" for drawing attention to this less than desirable fact. 

- 1987: Started the first voluntary counselling and testing (VCT) center at the internationally recognized Madras Medical College. However, upon starting sexual education presentations at local schools, Dr. Solomon realized that she was actually learning a great deal about modern sexual practices from the students themselves. For example, when asked if HIV could be spread through French kissing, Dr. Solomon's first response was "I don't know, I've never kissed a Frenchman." After being informed of the meanings of this and other terms, she realized there was a whole sexual language known only to younger generations. By learning more about the terms and phrases, she was able to gain the students trust while also opening the eyes of the school administrators, who had previously declared that their students were 'angels' who would not be participating in sexual activities at such  young ages (15-18). 

- 1997 to 2012: The awareness of social issues specific to India has led to the creation of individual programs directed at combating the stigma and other cultural obstacles individuals face. The first example of this was the couple approach to married individuals. If a young married woman comes in for testing, they will not disclose her results until her husband also comes in and is tested. This is to spare the woman from being blamed unfairly for bringing HIV into the marriage (22% of individuals who tested positive at the center in 2007 were housewives with only one partner). By approaching the issue with both parties, the counsellors can attempt to limit the negative consequences of blame, which could result in the woman being thrown out of the marriage  home and therefore left to fend for herself unfairly. The second example that I found particularly interesting is related to this through the recognition of the importance of marriage within Indian society. Dr. Solomon and her associates found they were constantly hearing about how an individual's parents were pressuring them to get married and, since their status had not been disclosed to the family, the individual felt they had no choice but to enter a marriage without disclosing their status to the future partner. Seeking to prevent further infections, YRGCARE started a matrimonial service in 2002. When an individual was feeling pressured to marry, the NGO would circulate their CV and picture to other NGOs working with HIV-positive individuals. If the two parties were interested, they would meet and ultimately, if the match making proved successful, marry without having to disclose their status to either family. In addition, by allowing the partners to be honest with each other, it was possible for treatment to continue and the transmission of the virus to the couple's children to be prevented. (After marriage, family pressure turns immediately to having children and therefore this program allows YRGCARE to manage two of the biggest cultural focuses at once.) 

All in all, today proved to be a fantastic opportunity to hear about the local epidemic from arguably the most well known and knowledgeable source in Chennai. And, I was able to successfully make my way to and from the NGO's headquarters on my own! 

Although today was a bit exhausting, I'm really looking forward to meeting my mentor tomorrow and getting started on my research! 

Monday 12 March 2012

"Ayubowan!"

"Ayubowan, welcome! Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. I am your purser, thank you for flying Sri Lankan airlines. Please make yourselves comfortable and if you need anything, please ask one of my talented and capable crew members who will be happy to help you with warm smiles and kind words." 



With this lovely introduction, my journey from Rome to Chennai, via Colombo began. Approximately 10 hours, almost 5,000 miles, and 7 time zones later I arrived to find Chennai as busy and hot as I remembered. However, the flights themselves were interesting enough (I think) to warrant their own post. So, I'll save my first impressions of Chennai for next time. 



The purser's words proved correct as, after I had found my seat and stowed my bag in the overhead compartment, I watched the other passengers and crew prepare for our flight. Stewardesses in bright turquoise saris deftly wrestled bags, coats, and hats in successful games of overhead Tetris while quietly admonishing passengers to take their seats and turn off their mobile phones. Although the latter was less successful than the former. (For example, this was a conversation behind me while halfway down the runway: *Cell phone rings out a Hindi pop song* "Hi, where are you?" "Oh, just taking off, I should be there in 9 hours") 

Settling into my slightly rickety seat with its extreme enthusiasm for lumbar support, I was reminded of a previous flight on Aeroflot where, upon landing, the backs of unoccupied seats fell forward leaving the cabin resembling a half finished game of Guess Who. Luckily, this proved to be an unfair comparison although the comfort level did not improve during the 8 and a half hours it took to reach Colombo. 

Flying over infamous cities

Once everything was ready, we departed from Rome on a flight path that took us over the Mediterranean Sea, Middle East, Arabian Sea, and Indian Ocean. It was a bit surprising to see the names of cities that had held the world's attention during the Arab Spring and the more recent clashes in Syria and Libya as I had followed the news coming from them so vividly and yet never really stopped to consider how close they were. It is just so easy to think of it as "interesting news from somewhere else" rather than right on your doorstep, which, in Italy, is exactly where the fighting in Libya was. 

Flight path 

Through my window I watched as the afternoon raced into evening and then into night, with each hour bringing us into a time zone further head. While I was at first sad that the flight would be overnight, as I feared this would mean there would be nothing to look at, this proved to be fortunate. The stars mirrored by the lights of cargo ships when the sky and sea would reach the same deep black colour between the bright lights of the Middle East's biggest cities was possibly one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. The cities themselves rise out of the darkness of the desert to fill the window with a yellow haze before disappearing into the night again. I hope that on my return flight I'll be able to compare the night and day versions of these famous places but I think the bright statement of "we're here and we're still awake" would be hard to beat, with their lights glittering like those on a Christmas tree. 

In between pondering the views outside my window and listening to From Our Own Correspondent podcasts, I was treated to some nice, if slightly strange, food choices. As we left Rome at 15:30, we were given the menu for our flight. The options included the standard chicken or fish, with nods to both our departing and arriving locations through the additions of curry and pasta. For the dinner service, I chose the pasta which turned out to be little raviolis in a tomato sauce. Simple and tasty, I was very pleased. Although I decided to pass on the seafood salad (calamari, mussels, etc in a light oil and vinegar dressing), which seemed an unwise choice on a long haul flight. 

Not the most attractive picture...

It was for the breakfast and snack services that things started to get interesting. The first snack was the standard "peanuts and soft drink" that all airlines offer. Except, these were not peanuts but rather deceptively spicy crackers. Delicious. I seriously considered wandering to the back to see if they had any extras but didn't want to appear greedy. Plus, my tongue was on fire and I was out of diet coke. 

Flight snack, drink and book

Breakfast was served in between the cracker snack and the next one, at around 3 am Sri Lankan time. Even though I had read the menu, my sleep deprived brain had promptly forgotten the offerings. When asked "chicken or pasta?", I was distracted by the thought that neither of those were really breakfast foods and absent-mindedly chose the pasta. This was a poor choice. There is just something about a creamy salmon tagliatelle dish that doesn't appeal to my early morning appetite. I decided to make due with the roll and fruit cup while trying in vain to avoid smelling the salmon. An hour later, just as I had started to forget the strange breakfast I had been given, the stewardess came round with a basket. The lights in the cabin were still low to allow for sleep and I held out my hand, expecting a toilette. Instead I received an ice-cream bar. At 4 am. Did I think this was a very strange turn of events? Yes. Did I eat it? Of course. And it was actually very good,  although I think it probably won't be my breakfast of choice any time soon.

Finally we arrived in Colombo where, disembarking from the plane, I was hit by what felt like a physical wall of heat and humidity. The landing announcement had informed us that the outside temperature was 26 degrees Celsius but had neglected to mention what must have been 100% humidity. After wandering the unair-conditioned concourse, I settled into my Chennai flight's gate and was pleasantly surprised to find the televisions showing what seemed like bizarre options given the setting. Neither screen held the typical news channel or music videos most often found in airports but instead one had Ohio State defeating Purdue in college basketball while the other replayed the Aston Villa /Fulham game. Again, strange, but it worked out well for me as they made the two hours wait fly by, which ws also helped along by the conversations around me. 

Overheard while waiting at the gate:
Woman 1: "And do you have grandchildren?"
Woman 2: "Yes, two, both of my daughters."
Woman 1: *Wistfully* "Ah, yes, when you have daughters..."
Woman 2: "You get old faster!"

On the Chennai flight, my seat-mate was a little old lady travelling as part of a little old lady pilgrimage group to shrines around India. There were about thirty of them along with two handlers who made sure everyone's landing cards were filled out correctly and passports secure. The women were all very sweet and amused by their own lack of familiarity with the plane. For example, my seat-mate asked me how to undo her seatbelt, I opened the towelette package for the woman across the aisle and pointed out how the tray table worked to the women behind me. Instead of feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable in the unfamiliar setting, they all laughed and joked about their difficulties. I thought it was a good example for the uncertainties and awkward missteps I'll no doubt face here in Chennai. I plan to follow their lead with a smile and a laugh. 

Finally, we landed in Chennai where I zipped through passport control, grabbed my bags and was whisked off to our friends' apartment. After a three hour nap and a shower, I am finally feeling semi-human again and starting to get very nervous/excited about meeting my NGO mentor and seeing the offices for the first time tomorrow. However, I will add one last thing about the flight: I have never, in my twenty-six years of bouncing from place to place, seen so much luggage come off one plane. The conveyor belt was transformed into an endless sea of suitcases in every size and colour, huge cardboard boxes with their owner's names and addresses written on every side, and plastic bags with unknown contents. It was absolutely astounding and I'm not entirely convinced that load conformed to the established laws of physics. 

Six months worth of clothing
Six months of clothing in the suitcase

All in all, it was an easy and stress-free trip and a very nice start to this crazy adventure. 

Friday 9 March 2012

Elephants on Parade

Looking around my room, attempting to create a mental packing list, my eyes fell onto my collection of elephant figurines. I think, possibly more so than any other animal, elephants inspire wonder and curiosity. At zoos and safari parks, the elephants are always among the most popular with visitors. Just recently I was chatting to a friend about my own interest in these incredible animals, as evidenced from an early age...

Announcing an addition to the herd... 
When I travel, I really enjoy finding new and different figurines to add to my collection. Those here in Rome were all found on my last visit to India, a fact that has made me even more excited to get back to Chennai to start the hunt for new ones. But what is the significance of the elephant within Indian culture?



After some quick research, the elephant appears as a symbol of power, dignity, intelligence and peace in China, India and Africa. Within Asia, elephants also symbolize wisdom, loyalty, strength, fidelity and longevity. Interestingly, despite the increasing number of negative interactions between humans and elephants (as their natural habitats shrink), these animals maintain a purely positive significance. In fact, figurines are often considered to be good luck charms as they ward off evil spirits through the wisdom and power associated with the animal.


Perhaps the most famous symbol of the elephant in India is the god Ganesha (also written as Ganesh, Ganapati, or ), the "remover of obstacles" or the Lord of Beginnings. As one of the most popular and recognizable deities in the Hindu pantheon, he is believed to be the patron saint of arts and sciences, intellect and wisdom. In addition, he is credited with bringing joy and happiness to the family, as well as being the destroyer of vanity, selfishness and pride.

Ganesha
(www.hinduism.about.com)

According to mythology, Ganesha was created by the goddess Parvati to guard her bathroom while she bathed. However, when her husband, Shiva, returned to find a stranger, he sliced off his head in anger. In order to repair his mistake, Shiva ordered his troops to find any sleeping being who was facing north. When they returned with the head of a young elephant, Shiva attached it to the boy in order to revive him. Ganesha then became one of the five main Hindu deities, joining Shiva, Vishnu, Durga and Brahma.

Ganesha
(www.koausa.org/gods/god8.html) 

Along with his elephant head, Ganesha is most often portrayed as having four arms, each holding an object of significance: a goad to move people along their path in life, a noose to remove obstacles and difficulties in their way, a broken tusk as a symbol of sacrifice, and a rosary to demonstrate the continuous pursuit of knowledge. His head represents the atman, or soul, which symbolizes his connection to humanity while his body signifies maya, the earthly reality for humans. Finally, with his trunk he holds a laddoo, which is a type of Indian sweet and is symbolic of the need to search for sweetness in life.

Ganesha figurine from Chennai, 2008

In eighth grade at St. James Catholic School in Falls Church, Virginia, I was asked to choose a confirmation saint. I chose Elizabeth Anne Seton. However, if I could go back, I think I'd choose Ganesha instead.

Tuesday 6 March 2012

A Return to Mother India

"There are some parts of the world that, once visited, get into your heart and won't go. For me, India is such a place. When I first visited, I was stunned by the richness of the land, by its lush beauty and exotic architecture, by its ability to overload the senses with the pure, concentrated intensity of its colors, smells, tastes, and sounds... I had been seeing the world in black and white and, when brought face-to-face with India, experienced everything re-rendered in brilliant technicolor."      
- Keith Bellows, National Geographic Society. 

Spices in a New Delhi market, 2006 

The above quote almost perfectly sums up my attraction to India. As a child, I lived in Chennai from the ages of 8 months to 2 and a half years - far too young to really remember it. However, through the friendships my family maintained over the years with friends from Chennai as well as the presence of my wonderful Indian nanny Theresa, my curiosity and awe of India has grown by leaps and bounds. 

Me and my friend Cyril, Chennai 1988
Me and Theresa, Chennai, 2008

Upon graduating from the University of Virginia with my bachelor's in Anthropology and History, I went back to India to visit Theresa and friends. Experiencing the amazingly unique cities of Chennai and New Delhi inspired a desire to return with a greater understanding of the culture, food, and people. When trying to decide on a location for my PhD research, I felt that India's growing HIV epidemic and vibrant culture might offer the greatest opportunity to view the ways social traditions are incorporated within the local understanding of the virus. Chennai, as the capital of Tamil Nadu, one of the hardest hit Indian states, will hopefully allow me to return to Britain with a clearer picture of how individuals use their cultural schemas and traditions to understand the unknown and what this practice means for public awareness and those living with the virus. 

HIV/AIDS prevalence in India.
( http://margavp.files.wordpress.com/2010/11/india-map.jpg )    


I hope that my findings may be useful for other researchers who are looking for ways to increase awareness of the virus and lessen stigma within the Indian public. While my time in India is primarily focused on my research, I hope I'll be able to share the amusing, touching and amazing stories that I find along the way in this unique and beautiful country. With my flight date rapidly approaching (March 11th, arriving in Chennai March 12th), the next few posts will probably involve less about how incredible India is and more about my panicked attempts to not forget anything important... 

Therefore, in an attempt to end this post with a last bit of clarity and intelligence before being caught up in hysterical packing, I'm including this quote from author Will Durant, who perfectly sums up the unique appeal and historical importance of this amazing country: 


Taj Mahal, 2008


"India was the motherland of our race, and Sanskrit the mother of Europe's languages; she was the mother of our philosophy; mother, through the Arabs, of much of our mathematics; mother, through the Buddha, of the ideals embodied in Christianity; mother, through the village community, of self-government and democracy. Mother India is in many ways the mother of us all."