Davis California again

The joke is that last year was a g.o.o.d. year (get out of davis).

I got back here 10 days ago, with Satya, Vayu and Tara. Back into the richness of our life here, a place we have some roots. Walked up Douglass Ave. with my friend Marcelo last night, past #815 where Satya was born (which i've cycled past many times since we moved to Lindo Place in 2000) and I stopped short on the sidewalk, struck that the last time i walked that bit of pavement was with a crying baby in the hot summer evening.

Tonight in the park for fireworks, Satya and his friend Jeremy took off on their own. During the day, Satya has cycled or scootered over to friends' places, alone or with Violet. Time for me extends forever, and skips in blips.

Having dinner with Jon, Nancy, Ben and Maya last Friday, or at the Busse's place for a 4th of July potluck, I notice the strength of our community here. My parents came up for the day and will stay two nights: a sweet visit that was, and will be, impossible when we're 10,000 or 900 miles away. The kids are all loving Dadaji and Dadima's presence. How nice also to have Sara's college pal Variny and her children here with us today.

Haven't blogged lately. Busy -- we've been scoping out a move to Washington state. Also, Sara and i have planned a role switch, wherein she gets back into professional life and I work as a stay at home dad. So one reason i haven't blogged is to keep hush-hush the possibility of my leaving Davis High. Now it's no secret. Sara's been working with BGI for a month, and I resigned from my teaching job last week. A very difficult thing to do. I put a lot into my work in these years, and reaped from it likewise. Now it's time to peel the onion of my life, to seek lessons at a deeper level of self , inwardly and outwardly.

So here we are, back in our place, to say our goodbyes and make this leap to Indianola, Washington, where we arrived in mid-May. I remember agreeing with Sara last month when she said that if we had come to Davis before trying on life in Washington, we'd never have been brave enough to make the move. Yep.

A sweet new beginning up north, beginning with a bittersweet ending right here. Last year was a g.o.o.d. year, but this year getting out of davis is tough.

by Ajay

"So how was your trip?"

by Sara

What a question to answer. Then of course there is "Isn't there a lot of poverty there?" Whew - that's tough one....

First off, I have to say that there is something mind-erasing about jet travel. Once you make it through security - it is like your whole past never existed. Stepping out of India onto that plane was very strange. I did take one flight within India with the kids and it was similar - I was suddenly from a different planet, but knew all about the one I was riding. But now that we are back I feel an urgent need remember what my life was like there, and to evaluate this return process - which for me is always so much more difficult than the change to someplace new (another thought I hope to elaborate on...)

Let me also say, that this "public diary" has been very useful to me this year. Somehow my thoughts are more dynamic when typing, and particulary typing while online. What I write on a napkin or a notebook (contrary to what one might imagine) always seems to come out so trite and artificial. But here - it is somehow so fluid that I reveal more in a more authentic mode. As you may have also noticed in my musings, I have not done much to "paint a picture" of our experiences, rather the blog has been a place for me to spill my thoughts in times of need. I'm sure that gives a strange skew to the whole story.

So - "being back" Well, with the purchase of our return tickets (which cost about as much as our whole year there) we wiped out our bank account and are struggling with mixed bag of happy to be back in familiar surroundings, but can't really afford to enjoy it much, so we'd better set up some regular income ASAP.

Well, since Ajay has been encouraging me to get back out into the world, that ASAP part has fallen to me. And I'm not that good at it. For starters, it is so sudden (although we have been talking about it for months) that I want to run back and play with Satya, Violet and Tara rather than beat the proverbial pavement. I'm also very concerned about starting the wrong thing out of desperation and being stuck with a way of life that is not what i had envisioned in my time of freedom.

We have come back to a great deal of prosperity and my personal needs have changed over the year, so I need to be quite thoughtful about how to deal with the anomalies.

Here's a good example from our current situation: Back in January we learned of an opening at a community in the Seattle area that we visited three years back and really enjoyed. Now have rented a 2BR nearby with the hopes of finding work and (un)schools that would justify us putting in an offer on the land and moving up here....[never finished this and already life is moving too fast!]

See you in real time!

On my feet

I'm up and about after a week convalescing from a brief encounter with asphalt (with a small serving of foot-smashed-underneath-moped). Not a glamorous crash, just went a little too fast around a corner with dogs chasing me at midnight, (instead of just stopping and taking the joy out of their game), and i hit a sandy spot and went down...

So we're getting ready to head back to the States, but not before I ...

-- Visit the big bats living in a tree near here (Auroville) that Sara and I visited in 1993
-- Go to the Matrimandir again
-- Visit our friend Chitra's family in Chennai again (Violet and I were there last month). Chitra is Sara's brother Alan's neighbor in England.
-- Get some Krishna window decals for our car
-- Have a few more excellent barber-shop shaves

Gentle reader, i will write more later
Maybe much later
Shame on you for wasting your time checking this blog.

by Ajay

The mangoes are coming!

Well, we've just about made it to mango season. I saw my first paisley shaped one on the tree last week and green ones are already for sale in the market. Now let's see if we get a chance to eat some juicy ones before we go. We had just a few when we first arrived in July. We won't quite get to the most lauded varieties that come in June, but at least this time we were here for some.

We have been in Auroville since February now, and somehow leaving this place is hard to do. We spent one month at Sadhana Forest, which I did enjoy (contrary to public opinion); I only longed for a sink and shower without hauling a bucket from the hand pump to the shower space... Tonight we will go back there for a Passover seder.

I did enjoy my classes immensely and am planning on continuing training in water therapy every chance I get. I gave Ajay a session yesterday at "Quiet" (a coastal community here with a warm therapy pool and host to many other kinds of therapies as well), and he is ready to build me a pool where I can offer sessions to many others.

Learning this "Liquid Flow" (a combination of Watsu and Water Dance methods) has been really good for me. It is teaching me to have a new relationship with water - a slow and quiet one, which encourages me to breathe deeply. And, more importantly, it is opening up a portal for me to *give* something to others. I really hope to do much more in the future.

The other class- Nia - was also terrific. This one, because it is getting my legs moving! It is about the joy of movement and I am finally feeling comfortable working up a sweat in a dance studio. I recommend it heartily.

And,.... I took another class too. This one on "free riding" - riding without saddle and with only a bit-less bridle. This was a both for me and as support for Satya who is really taking to horses. In this class I was able to blur the lines between trainer and rider and perhaps will feel more confident working with horses together with Satya over the years.

Of course my gratitude goes to Ajay who has given me the time for all these endeavors, keeping the kids happy in my absence. In fact, perhaps many of you know that Ajay is most probably going to be the stay at home parent in our household for the next period, and he is really encouraging me to find my passion and start making a living at it.

I have been trying to get over my entrepreneurial phobia and consider all kinds of options. We have often thought of developing some kind of kiva/zen garden/hot tub/retreat space (and water therapy fits well with that). Our stay at Sadhana forest has almost made a vegan out of Ajay, and we have also considered having some kind of "blue plate special" kind of weekly cafe where we live. This also fits in with my interest in learning what I call "spa cuisine." And come to think of it.... there is a eco-lodge retreat in Tamil Nadu which apparently offers such food.... I think we should explore it....

As we let these ideas co-mingle I think fundraising is still a good option for me, and it is time to really pursue it.

Meanwhile, I will watch the mangoes and cashews grow on the trees.

Leaving Sadhana Forest

Arrived here over a month ago, and leaving tomorrow: I'm having several personal insights -- opportunities for substantial learning / sustained change -- if I stick with the sensations i'm experiencing.

Changes in self care
in follow-through
in commitment to / affinity for strong systems instead of myself.

- by Ajay

Is it time to go "home?"

Once again, I have managed to become the perpetual discontent in the family. My longings for our "permanent home" have darkened our experiences here in India since, say, the end of January.

I don't feel able to enjoy my temporary surroundings. I am not able to "be present".

I will try a new tack next week. I have signed up for a beginning course in Watsu, or Liquid Flow water therapy for six afternoons . Ajay and I both had sessions this past week - kind of like guided underwater Tai Chi. I had visions of mermaids swirling through blue-green sprirals. And I think I will also participate in a "Nia" workshop: "dancing-moving-healing-fitness" which is offered at complementary times (mornings and some evenings the same week). Someone quite different might emerge after all these workshops...

As it stands, without having been ill or even trying to lose weight, I am a good 40 pounds lighter than when I left the US last summer. I attribute this entirely to a change in lifestyle and diet. We have had no motor vehicle (until we came to Auroville!), and lived on the 2nd floor in Udaipur. Lots of walking and biking. I have eaten what has been served me (i.e. what dal/subzi Ramreet made up), which meant that sometimes I liked it and sometimes not. Most days since we came here I have been hungry. The days that something tasty has been put before me, I have eaten a healthy amount, felt overstuffed and only nibbled at the following meal. Here in Sadhana Forest, there is no oil, no sugar, no animal products whatsoever. Ajay is becoming a reluctant vegan, but Violet continues to happily eat whatever there is - often being extremely positive in her reviews. She weighs about the same as before. Satya is taller and leaner by far. And Tara continues to be our lightwieght, surviving now on bananas, potatoes and lots of salt.

Right now, my thoughts revolve around how we will re-settle in the US. There are certainly many aspects of US life that I miss, but I cringe at the thought of the consumer society that I gladlyt left behind.

under the stars

In the outdoor bathroom here at Sadhana Forest tonight:

"Daddy, these walls are made of sticks and wood, not, like, paint and stuff...

this roof is very nice, it's the sky

...can you see Narayan's Belt?"

-- Ajay

from
"S.Prout & A.Advani"
date
Feb 12, 2007 12:01 PM

subject
To: Satya Vayu & Tara Re: Coming to Sadhana Forest

mailed-by
gmail.com

Dear Satya, Vayu and Tara,

I am writing to you from Sadhana Forest, where we were hoping to travel together from Kerala. I am looking forward to you joining me here soon.

This is a camp in the countryside where many people have come together -- to live and work together -- and to re-establish the forest that used to grow here. It is called the tropical dry evergreen forest, and it used to be a thick, rich, mature jungle until people from outside came and started to cut down the forest about 200 years ago. Ever since the trees were cut down, the soil has suffered more and more. In this area where I am, rain water has washed away tons and tons of soil over many years, creating ravines and canyons where the forest used to soak up the strong rains.

I have stood in a place where a few of the large and very old trees stil stand, along with the smaller plants that were part of the wide wide forest that used to be here. This old place, this grove of trees is around a small outdoor temple or shrine in the place where the land of one village ends and the other begins. In this special place, one can feel the cool shelter of the forest and imagine how the trees harbored so many wonderful animals in the old days.

So when you come here we will work to help the forest to grow again, by protecting the soil from being washed away more, and by caring for the many many young trees that people have planted here since the Sadhana Forest project was started three years ago.

Several children are living here too, nonschooling -- and other children living near here come to visit and play when they don't have school. I think you will enjoy this place -- i can imagine Satya riding a bike and Vayu on a swing and Tara crawling under the play structure cave. You might also enjoy the pet animals here.

You can re-read this letter again later on.

I love you.

Papa


Reply Reply to all Forward

marathon man

Having spent the past week in a collective workcamp to help resuscitate the tropical dry evergreen forest,

why am i traveling for two days up to Delhi by bus and train to pick up Sara and the kids and bring them back the same day, again by rail, instead of flying them down here for an extra two or three hundred bucks?

Is it simply that planes are an abomination and that the money could build a checkdam on this severely eroded land? Or am i just a cheapskate?

Ajay

ajay's interview in the davis high school paper

draft

When did you and your family start talking about leaving Davis to travel to India?
What did the talks entail?
In early 2006 Sara and I started talking concretely about how to give our kids a real experience in Indian culture, and to shake up some of the patterns of living we've drifted into. I also wanted the kids to learn some Hindi.

When did you inform Mr. Richardson and Mr. Cawley of your intentions?
In March or April, I think.

What emotions did you have at the department farewell lunch at the end of the school year?

When did you and your family leave Davis for India? July 20

How did you feel about leaving your teaching behind you?
I am at a bit of a loss without the rigor and playfulness of it, but am happy and grateful for the opportunity to get outside the box. It makes thinking outside the box, especially about education, much easier.

What part of India are you in currently?
We are in the state of Kerala, where we just spent several days at Kanavu, a unique residential school in Wynad District. Wayanad is an area where the indigenous / tribal people had no onslaught of settlers until relatively recently. At Kanavu the students determine their own curriculum and have a hand in how the place is run. In fact, the older students are now fully in charge, and the Trust they have formed owns the land. Maybe I can mail over a CD with a film about Kanavu to be screened at DHS.

Where have you been so far?
We spent August to December living in Udaipur , Rajasthan. There we participated in a group called Shikshantar, which is dedicated to transforming the way people think about learning. Google it – the website has more than one meal's worth of food for thought.

Are you working at all in India?
No paid job. An opportunity to be a person instead of a "teacher. "

How does your wife and kids feel about the experience?

Any regrets?
I'm glad you asked about regrets. Where do I start? Actually, Sara and I are both glad we took on this experiment, but it has been endured more than enjoyed, I think. But: no pain, no gain. Having regrets depends on hindsight, but also on the hopeless wish that we could run a reply and avoid the mistakes the second time through. I'm appreciating mistakes' crucial role as a crucibles for learning.
Here's an example. I regret being short-tempered with my kid the other day – and would love a second chance to do it right — but if I had known how inappropriate the match between us and Shikshantar would be, I would have missed a few excellent lessons that I've gotten since August. And so even in hindsight, I might run that play the same way.
The kids, Satya, Violet and Tara, have also been stressed by the move, but not to the point, we hope!, of causing damage. Since before having children we have worried about the constraints that are commonplace at home. We call it a free country but if i've seen one, it's here, not back there. It seems the kids have had a richness of experience here that they could not have gotten at home.

The auto response on your e-mail says you are on a sabbatical for 06-07. Are you coming back for 07-08 or are you and your family staying longer in India?
Our visas will run out, so the latest we'll be back in Davis is June.

trapped with tourists in kanyakumari

today we spent some time with a couple from America

in the late afternoon shared a car down to the shore with them from our hotel. sara and i didn't engage the hawkers selling postcards, shell necklaces, seashells, pearls -- so we were left alone to enjoy and explore... but the couple did engage, so we were quickly invited into a tangled web of consumption. temporarily escaped, but mostly spent the time in the commotion of commerce while finding cool shells, seaweed, dead fish, rocks of many kinds, sea-sculpted tennis shoe soles, while playing catch or splashing. right after the sun disappeared but with plenty of light left they said "it's getting dark" and headed off to the car with their catch of the day -- mostly items that, granted, were once natural or wild, but were notable in having been selected and prepared for consumer consumption.

such was their interaction with this place of abundant beauty, this sacred place at the very tip of the subcontinent, where the sands of 3 seas mingle.

by ajay

more importantly, looks like satya needs a root canal. NB brush well, floss often!

Family Update

Dear Friends,

I am grateful for Ajay's "unrevealingly brief" posts, if for no other reason than that they have provided me with insights. But it does seem appropriate to update you on more of our experiences and my thoughts. And i need to resurrect the practice of writing/typing.

Satya, Violet and Tara are probably napping now - generally the best time for one of us to be out doing something else, like blogging. These months have been family intense by all means. All five of us have been together almost constantly. We have had so much "freedom" that we are all craving direction. Well, I suppose Tara is the most flexible - as long as Mama is nearby, the world can spin any which way.

Topics I hope to cover in this post:
Things I like about India
Things I don't " "
Where the kids are at
Our ideas on education
Our thoughts on creating our "home"
My hopes for rewarding work

But first I'll just give you a brief update on where we are. The first week of January, we made the decision to move out of our house in Udaipur and head to the South. In some ways we were happy in Udaipur and just settling in. But we had a bit of a silent war going on with our landlord, the kids were not interacting well with the other children in the compound, we were ready to move on from Shikshantar, we wanted to get out of urban India and I really wanted to spend some time in Kerala. In hindsight, we probably wish we had rented some little place to call home there. Instead we gave most things away or for a nominal price, and packed everything out of there into a friend's room (who subsequently moved out and now our things are in some shed on the property) and hopped on a two day train to Calicut, Kerala. We decompressed there for several days in a simple hotel and then took the bus journey up the hill to Wayanad to visit a commune there run entirely by self-educated youth who are also tremendous musicians and performance artists. A wonderful antidote to the city. The kids got lots of time outside, with cows, a couple almost wild horses, dogs, esp. Kaju, a lily pond, a river, a bamboo forest.... and the area was full of coffee and acacianut plantations, as well as rubber and jackfruit trees. All firsts for my eyes!

Unfortunately (for all of us) I was uncomfortable with the complete lack of furniture, the cold nights (we were at 4,000ft elevation) on a floor, softened only by a bit of straw and a few mats, and an aggravated infection on my leg that I did not take care of properly (because a doctor told me not to). The kids liked the rural feel, were acclimating to eating rice with maybe a taste of the sambhar for three meals a day and Ajay walked to the main road daily to meet the dairyman to fill a pail with milk for Tara. We left after a short week and then took almost another week to travel down to Kovalam to meet up with Ajay's parents. Lots of bumpy bus rides, and finally a relaxed 21 hour houseboat cruise on the backwaters near Allepey. Now we are taking a family break beachside to decide our next steps (which apparently hinge on what work/direction I find).

We brought too much with us (as Ajay likes to point out every day...) partially because I wasn't sure if we might set up home here in Kerala.

WHAT I LIKE ABOUT INDIA
The main thing that I am feeling about this country, is that for good or bad, people are ALIVE and LIVING. I'd even say that is true across classes. There is a vitality here that inspires me. There is a rhythm to all of life here. Women do spend the whole day at home, mostly preparing and/or cultivating food. People go to the vegetable sellers every day - only the modern rich homes have refrigerators, and even then someone (i.e. from the kitchen staff) goes to get fresh vegetables every day, maybe even twice a day.

People really do things from scratch, and ready-made items are luxury goods. Food does not come packaged. Apart from the vegetable market and grain seller, I have been going to a specialty "grocery" store where I can buy jars of olives and granola and nutella for a very high price by the average standard, but it is mostly for foreigners and the rich (and I feel to be both of those when I shop there). So many snack foods are made right on the side of the street; there are lots of alternatives to a bag of chips. One guy has a little fire right on his thela, or four wheeled table/cart, and pops fresh popcorn on the spot. Another has masala roasted nuts, or even fresh fruit chaat, chopped up with a little masala on the side. There are local varieties of potato chips and all sorts of crispy snacky things that you can buy in bulk - simply wrapped in newspaper and tied with a string. Same for sweets too.

I see women carrying a seven-foot long, 2 foot wide pile of firewood on their heads while carrying a toddler in one arm and I stop fussing about carrying Tara around when she asks. Grandmothers carry that wood too, and smile and greet me, with it balanced all the while.

I trust people. I am still careful, but for the most part people really are extremely friendly and loving, especially towards our children. Here, when men reach down to say hello to Violet or Tara, I smile and encourage the kids to shake hands. I was truly shocked the first day in Udaipur, when we attended an event celebrating Rakshabandan (brother/sister ties) to see so many men sweeping our kids into their laps. At first I was eagle-eyed, and then I came to see that they were being honestly loving. Men walk hand and hand together, so do boys. There is an everyday camaraderie. In the US men cannot hold hands without strange looks, and most are very aware that they should stay away from other people's children unless they want to attract police attention.

Here there is little talk of litigation or insurance, there are no waivers to sign when you go out for a ride on the open ocean in an acacia log skiff, or even for horseback riding lessons in Delhi. I hear there are new helmet laws, but you can put a family of five or more on a scooter, with the baby held with one arm and that's just how everyone gets around. Everyday life is thrilling, not safe. I wonder how my kids will be when we strap them back in their seats in the US. They have been crammed into rickshaws or clambering around in Dadajis rented Toyota (which by the way is still a lot smaller than our luxury family van), with total abandon. The first time Violet got into a van with a seat belt, she was so psyched and put it right on, but for the most part they are hidden under the seat somewhere completely unused.

One can build a fire without a permit. And all manner of traffic (animal, pedestrian, vehicular) is allowed on the same road. There are new toll road superhighways between major cities, where animals are supposedly prohibited, but you still see camel carts on them here and there. It is probably not the most pleasant place for the drivers - a smaller road being safer, but it is not a major offence.

With or without money, you can build, plant create, what you will here. There are but few limitations. We went to a kind of Rajasthani Disney-esque place in Jaipur when Al visited - supposedly a mock village, where they have traditional ferris wheels (4 suspended square cradle like boxes on an axle), dancers, rajasthani buffet, fire walkers, magicians, a dragon cave, elephant rides, head masseurs, etc. And the place was a total blast for the kids, but also totally unsafe by most standards. That's good and bad in my mind. The people working there looked very unhappy, there was no joy in them. It was an Indian middle class playground that trivialized and commercialized someone's idea of village India.

I suppose this brings me to WHAT I DON'T LIKE ABOUT INDIA

There is rubble and rubbish everywhere. Even the roads in the best neighborhoods are unkempt paths of overgrown plants and rubbish. It is very difficult for us to keep our children from throwing trash on the ground or out the window, because that is what everyone does. There are few trashcans, and most vendors, when you ask for a place to put a wrapper, point to the street. Usually I pocket it and find a bin on my own. (So i have become a bit of a trash receptacle for our kids...) Eventually in some places someone does come to sweep it into a pile, and either haul it somewhere or burn it on the spot.

When I travelled to Ladakh, the host organization there had a tourist orientation program and many complained of the lack of dustbins. The response was: perhaps its good that there is no place to put your trash, then you will learn not to generate it. A fine response indeed! The obvious litter is from tobacco packets, frito lay chip bags and plastic water bottles. All things we can easily do without - part of the "readymade" economy.

The class issues here are very significant and in some ways are really speeding up our desire to return to the US. English is spoken only by the upperclass, and therefore we are a part of that. It separates us from most before we even greet them. At our home in Udaipur, we were really sad that our kids were so separated from the small children there. Although they have learned a good deal of Hindi and can communicate with others, the fact is that we are English speaking and others put us in a bracket separate from theirs. There simply is no feigning parity.

Another obvious issue for me is that there seems to be no place to escape to - no quiet, clean place. It's all noisy and unless I've paid for a hotel, generally uncomfortable and dirty. I feel assaulted everyday. Getting out of the cities of course solve that problem, but still there is no soft moss under the trees and little padded grass for running about.

This place really is about as distinct from Davis, CA as one could get.

WHERE THE KIDS ARE AT
Well, lately Tara has been referring to her current abode as "this hotel, or that other one" A couple months ago, after we had had a wonderful visit with a new friend in Goa - with a completely kid-space house - a backyard full of adventures, a houseful of books and toys and wonderful, Greens cookbook kinds of meals.... Tara had said "let's go back to that house" Oh and yes... Tara is totally TALKING. Lots. In fact, she starts our family circle stories, usually with a line like: "Onceuponatime there was a pwincess who had a jeep in the woods...." She is spicy, and often gangs up with Satya to pick on dear Violet. She loves dressing up and dancing to any kind of music - she spins and twirls holding the hands of a doll, or her "Rani"

(And now we may enter what Ajay might label as "Sara's Projections" zone)...
Violet is happiest wearing her princess dress that she got for her birthday just before we left. She is sooo sweet. She will say things like " wow! look at that beautiful sunset" or "Mama, I love you and just hold my hand so tight. She went to an art center in Jaipur and just loved being around the pottery, sculptures and paintings, saying they were so beautiful. She put her foot out over the boat this morning into the water (the Arabian Sea) and said "a mermaid just touched me!" She is so full of magic. Sometimes she says I want to live in India forever, and sometimes she just wants to go back to Davis and play with Molly. Many mornings and bedtimes she wants to call Molly - knowing that if she is going to bed, then Molly is probably just waking up. Unfortunately Violet has had few interactions with other little girls here and I think she really needs that (here with english speaking kids, or back home).

Satya seems to be coping. His dream right now - which I hope we all support him on following through with, is to build a two-seater race car. Almost everyday he talks about "when we get back to the states. He has also had very few boys to play with his age - both becuase of language, and because those children are in school most of the day. In Udaipur, Satya had the idea to build a raft for Fateh Sagar of plastic water bottles (either 1000 1 liter ones, or several 5 gallon ones for each corner) but we never got going on that. He continues to love fishing. And that has really kept him going this year - either crabbing in Eklingi, or holding a bamboo pole and line off the houseboat. Our friend and violin teacher, Bagirath, really took a liking to Satya (and Violet and Tara) and took him fishing once too. Satya is not hurting Violet so much these days, but his temper is still very strong. He is clearly trying to control his impulses, but I am concerned that he is simply not happy. It is very difficult for him to share unless there are three of something, and then he likes to be the one to make sure everything is split very fairly. You won't see him giving away the bigger half of a cookie. But of course, still he is so sweet too - we want to know how to serve him better. For a while we were doing a drawing a day, and he drew circular railroad tracks (like his set up at Dadaji's), a two-story house with an apple tree outside, and then he drew the moon and stars. Violet's paintings are extremely wild and colorful, and she has an elaborate description for each squiggle.

That's all for now, I'll work on the other ideas (education, home and work) in my next post.
We really miss all of you and hope to see you soon. We know we don't need to be so out of touch in this modern world, but still we isolate ourselves and crave community.

By Sara

Why Wynad?

here in bustling calicut, in the malabar region of kerala
on our way to kanavu learning centre in wayanad district
in the western ghat
more later

considering abandoning this blog...
...so infrequent, and unrevealingly brief when i do get around to it ... what's the point?
i suppose you can google "kanavu" if you care to

anyway, out of the city and into the real world we go
(what were we thinking anyway???)

by ajay

Turning the Corner

With many options before me i hope to close the door on all of them but one
within the year

wish me luck

Tired of the well-trodden path
influenced by others more than myself
cabeza bien lavado

a new way i forged so long ago but strayed

Stay the course!
the course of trusting intuition
the guidance of truth
the bullshit filter turned all the way up

Here's the fine print
a salutary cold plunge heals
kids can pick up snakes
if it smells like a rat it probably is
a featherbed and butler do not a good life make
judge the propaganda by its source
weakness begets weak advice
poverty of imagination a path to join the living dead

to flee the ravages of prosperity
institutionalization
engineered solutions
and division

towards sufficiency
autonomy
community
and random joy

rank can never outrank sweat

Drivel, babble, confusion this is?
Stay tuned for the translation
(it may never come)
or put it into your own words
whatever meaning you can make of it
is perfect
appropriate
sincere
and passionately purposeful

if you are.

by ajay

feeling at home

out in the world i seek joy in the image of the lord -- and freely find it ! -- bowing and stooping in her glorious forests and roadside shrines

here at 'home' with my kids' grandparents, my head will not bend in the least -- is this the altar of a different god?

-ajay

World Social Forum - Delhi (and my internal class divide)

Went on a 6-day Cycle Journey through the hills of Mewar. Will blog it a bit? or, more likely, i won't. But definitely ask me about it. You'll find snapshots of it at www.swaraj.org/shikshantar (soon, if not already.)

Here for 3 days for the Indian Social Forum. A crowd of us from Udaipur, and a few from Chandigarh, are staying at my parents' place here. The ISF http://www.wsfindia.org/ is a space for connection and sharing towards creating a livable world. Lots of organizations hosting booths or stalls; music / dance performances and film screenings; and lots of lectures and workshops. We are meeting and talking with people while juggling, making jewelery from everyday items or baskets from used paper, .... today we'll create an installation from some of the huge amount of plastic and styrofoam trash being created in this supposed "another world is possible" event.
I think that the structure of this gathering or conference keeps us from getting very far along the road to the kind of vital, vibrant, compassionate, sustainable world that i envision. The ISF has brought hordes of well-meaning people like me to an overstressed city to sit in rows and hear lectures and leave trash mountains to the sweepers. Certainly there are also meaningful connections being made, ideas being shared and generated, and possibly new commitments towards making a truly livable world -- but i think these are minor compared with self-reproducing patterns such as narrow opposition to (and therefore acceptance of) the world as it is. Maybe what's missing is a sense of value of the local -- easy enough to forget in a nowhere megalopolis like this.

Here's another possible way:
Find people in a village in the countryside to host the gathering, and let the event itself be an instance of the kind of world people are envisioning. Outsiders and hosts work together to prepare the infrastructure in advance, using local materials and techniques (and, afterwards, to dismantle and reassimilate it into the natural environment). Don't cram the meeting into a limited time frame. Invite participants to come gradually and leave gradually, with a main section of a week in the middle when most of the action happens; in other words, soften the population vs. time graph so that it looks like a bell curve rather than a square wave pulse (where people descend en masse on Day 1and bolt at the end of Day 4). Ensure bus transport to and from the nearest city and consider blocking private vehicle access. Soften the cultural trend towards consumerism by inviting all participants to take part in sustaining the gathering's vital processes (such as water, food, and shit) by our collective effort and foresight rather than by our individual pocketbooks. Soften the physical assault of the ISF-as-it-is by avoiding amplification of sound and bright lighting (easily achieved by respecting the existing electrical energy supply). Encourage more robust engagement by using open space technology ( http://www.co-intelligence.org/P-Openspace.html ) and / or by scheduling conversations with -- rather than lectures and speeches by -- the "experts", and by providing skilled facilitation at each conversation (don't expect the "expert" to manage the dialogue). Encourage physical play among adults. And maybe most importantly -- don't strive to make it so damn big.

Tara came with me to the first two days of the gathering -- yesterday i especially enjoyed her company, rolling and cutting paper with her, being climbed upon as i sat and worked, getting her help in making a braid of 5-penny nails, sitting with her as she napped. I reckon that there are probably 5,000 kids left at home by conference participants, and that the meeting would be quite different if it weren't dominated by adult energy.

Wrestling a lot with the question of class. Continually and painfully reminded of the nature of class structure, and resisting in my own ways the narrowness of the-way-it-is. Particularly bridled when shooed away from doing dishes, when called sir, when i see Satya Violet and Tara exposed to certain people's weakness and fear cloaked as status (i'm afraid of the lessons implicit in their exposure to this toxic environment), and, generally, whenever i'm reminded of how the class order prevents real connection between human beings. Browbeaten into having a full-time cook in Udaipur, i regret my failure to stand firm by my intuition ("no way"). Perceiving the negative effect on Satya of having every damn thing done for him, including what he otherwise would have been perfectly capable of.

by Ajay

Inhibited.

by Sara

The girls are sleeping peacefully, Ajay and Satya have gone to Mumbai to say good-bye to Nana (Ajay’s maternal grandfather, and perhaps his most respected relative) who may not be alive tomorrow, and I am wide awake with my thoughts at three in the morning.

I have been participating in a film-making workshop at Shikshantar with Satya – ten, twelve-hour days with almost 40 other participants, including several children. We have started simply, taking a single shot that somehow reflects ourselves. I considered filming the hammock (tangled in the side yard jungle as it was, but still enticing), but decided upon the tethered bakri (goat) on the side of the road. I have seen her there most days, and once stopped to untangle her feet from the rope around the tree. I too feel tangled, impeded and not free to roam.

Last night, when Ajay was deciding whether or not he wanted to go say his last good-bye to his Nana, we both told each other that we felt inhibited. Him, to the extent that it was difficult to realize that of course he wanted to go. By using the phrase "if I were single…" he was able to see what was true about his feelings. The fact that I had brought a bottle full of water back from the headwaters of the Sindhu (Indus) River, which flows from the Himalayas (in Ladakh) into his ancestral land of Sindh (now in Pakistan) to offer to his grandfather, also helped clinch the decision. After all the sacred things that we had left undone in Davis for so long (like planting the buckeye, the placentas, Mawball’s ashes, etc.) I think we both realized the need to keep up with our intentions, and not let someone pass without the thoughtful offering we had procured.

Here we are – off on our family adventure, no strings attached, no need to earn money, honestly open to do what we please in a country where everything goes really, and we feel stuck. The bottom line, of course, is that we have yet to come to terms with how to live happily with the responsibility of three small children in our laps. We know people do it, but somehow we don’t seem able. I’ll stop speaking for Ajay here, and change to first person… It clearly doesn’t matter whether we are in suburbia or urban India, we I still have something major to work out.

I have been extremely reluctant to be home, both here and back in California. I know that I need to be "out" in the world right now – I get very sad if I’m not. I’ve been daydreaming a lot about a home on a lake in the Adirondacks – comfy, cushy chairs to sink into, walks in the woods and having a canoe and a horse or two.

Our home here remains unfurnished. We sleep on (custom made) mattresses (thin futons basically) on a concrete floor. We are doing no housework, laundry or cooking. Ajay has been quite productive in the garden, and enjoying good Indian cooking. Aside from some dishes that we enjoy (my current favorite is chowla – a dal made from fresh black-eyed peas), I think the kids and I have been getting by on rice, yogurt, fresh rotis (chapattis, pulkas, pan-pitas basically) and fruit, oh and chocolate milk!. We are trying to have a zero-waste home and resisting packaged goods – no cans of orange juice concentrate here (besides, we have no fridge). But Ramreet makes nimbu panni almost daily – fresh lime/lemon (it’s kind of in between the two) squeezed into a glass of water with a teaspoon of chini (sugar) mixed in. Violet loves to drink hers down and then scoop the leftover crystals out with her fingers. Tara, of course, follows suit.

The kids, particularly Violet and Tara, spend a good part of their days getting very dirty, then getting naked, painting on each other and then gleefully splashing outside on our veranda in the laundry tubs (an extra one bought expressly for this purpose). I make an effort to put clean clothes on them, and brush their hair before heading out into town in the afternoons – to Shikshantar’s office for example. Otherwise, they are generally quite unkempt – particularly in comparison to the neat, uniformed school children who pass by. Still, somehow, everyone always admires them – saying how sweet and cute they are. I feel that they are a bit of a cross between spoiled Americans and Indian street children. I suppose they are….

Violet’s hoards of mosquito bites are beginning to heal. Her forearms and calves were completely eaten up wearing sundresses. I’ve gotten a few salwar kameezes made for her now, although the tailor still doesn’t quite understand her proportions. "See my fat belly, Mom? she asks. "That’s my baby’s head!"

Violet and Satya have almost driven off our nanny. (It is difficult for me to use the word, and I feel Ajay almost rubs it in my face, but really, she is our "maid," not so much a nanny, although that was the intention). Manju Didi sweeps and washes our floors every day, handwashes, hangs, and folds all our clothes, helps Ramreet in the kitchen and watches over Tara when we feel a need to leave her home. She loves being with Tara, but Satya and Violet cannot be left alone with her. They are not trying to drive her off (although they do sometimes say so) but it is a bit like the nannies in the sound of music being scared off by frogs and such…)

The electricity just went out (and our neighbor’s generator just switched on). I can see my computer screen (I’m loving having a battery on this thing!) but not the keyboard, so I think it’s time to stop for now. Besides, I should get a little sleep before the mullahs (or who is that?) begin their pre-dawn amplified chantings…

Here’s the light again… and I still have more thoughts to put down.

Most homes here are vegetarian and many don’t eat eggs. Somehow, Ajay has decided that we too should not have meat or eggs in the house and we have been managing, although Satya has been asking for beef daily for the past week. Strangely, neither Satya nor Violet ever liked eating hamburgers in the US, but Satya has been asking for them here. When I reminded him about this, he said, right – a steak or rack of lamb would be much better.
On eggs…I just need to understand something (and I should also preface this by saying that I don’t enjoy eating them often): aren’t most eggs unfertilized? Unless they say so, of course. I can completely see why Indian vegetarians don’t eat fertile eggs – a potential life inside. But eating unfertilized eggs is even more innocuous than drinking cow’s milk in my opinion. Right? I guess I need to learn something about Indian poultry raising.

As for Satya, he arrived in Bombay this morning, visited Nana in the hospital, was taken to an aquarium and reminded of his love for seafood, and last I spoke to him, he had just finished his lobster and was starting in on a crab. He sounded quite content.

Back to Manju-ji for a moment. Three days ago Manju was about to hop on the next train back to Delhi. Satya and Violet had surprised her (with sticks in their hands) while sweeping and she held up the dustpan in defense, and Satya’s chin got cut. Satya took an extended time out, Violet (I think) learned by example, and Manju was so sad that a) a child had gotten hurt, b) the child was in trouble and c) these kids, whom she loves more than any others she has cared for, she told Ajay, don’t return that respect.

Enter our current parenting dilemma: Respect. As many of you know, our children are not dainty, shy, or soft-spoken. They are bold, extremely physical and seemingly unaware of how unwelcome their aggressiveness is (despite our frequent warnings). Many here shrug it off and invite them to wrestle with them, not realizing how gung-ho Satya and Violet are, thinking they will play with this child for a time. When it’s over, I can see the relief in their faces – once was enough. I know that it is my responsibility to help Satya and Violet unlearn this behavior, and with Tara now beginning to jump in, time is running out…

For starters I know they need more physical activity – not just a long, exhausting day, but fun, active play – (trampolines has been a recent request), swimming, bicycling, digging, etc. These are all things I love to do – but managing three who can’t all swim, bike or hold a shovel yet is CHALLENGING and one of the main reasons I keep daydreaming about that house on a lake – someplace where all these things are at my fingertips, rather than needing to "plan" an outing.

For example, Ajay has been taking Satya and Violet to the lake every morning for swimming before Tara wakes. Now that he’s gone, I’m not going because Tara’s bike seat is on Ajay’s bike, which I crashed with Satya on it the other day – I can’t ride it, and certainly don’t want to ride with Tara and Violet on it too. But I feel bad leaving Tara home when she loves swimming, so I just don’t go. This is the kind of stupid thing that gets in my way.

But beyond alternate physical activity, we/I need to learn ways to really model and teach respect. If I’m on it like a hawk with Satya, he can control his aggressiveness. Part of the agreement that he attends the film-making workshop with me, is that he does not jump on anyone and controls his temper. So far, pretty good. Violet, similarly needs not to be given an opportunity to be physical with others, and at best, is involved in an activity separate from Satya. But still… somewhere inside they need the lesson that we are gentle with others, with or without a parent watching or warning. Period.

Here come the mullahs. More on housework and ambitions next time.

Clearly, I won’t be sleeping tonight – too many thoughts.

Tara and Violet have been such sweet sisters these days. Violet came up with the idea to do Tara’s hair the other day and she put in two hair ties. She says Mama you do my hair and Tara I’ll do yours. Tara has acquiesced several times since. It’s just the sort of stuff that makes me happy to have two little girls (and I’m just beginning to get used to it – now that they are acting like two little girls, instead of little kid and baby).

I’ve also realized that I get the toys I like for the children, that is to say, they are the ones I want to play with, collect, etc. And because of this, I think I have been too materialistic and focused on ownership (one of Ajay’s pet peeves). Perhaps I should pick things/make toys for myself, let the kids pick/make their own, and let them manage whether they get lost or broken. And then again, I wonder if my attention to our playthings helps them respect them/care for them better. Are toys meant to be disposable, or preserverd? In writing this I think I’m realizing that they really are better toys if it doesn’t matter what happens to them. I’ve been way to controlling and concerned about their things – I guess because they are a)heirloom quality and b) I like them and c) I don’t want stupid plastic things, so I’ve bought expensive cloth and wood toys… get over the money thing, Sara, Toys are toys.

Satya never wrote on our walls, Violet did once, Tara has been serious about it and now I’m finally doing what I’ve wanted to for a long time: encouraging them to write on the walls! Violet looked like a real artist yesterday with her watercolor palette painting our main room wall. Hey, why not! a) I want to play with it, b) it needs painting and c) keeping up with paper is a hassle!. This girl wants to paint! I know that Satya didn’t paint as much as he wanted to because I was reluctant to get the materials out often enough, not wanting to deal with the mess.

Here is a major perk of an unfurnished, cement floored- home: easy clean up, and hard to wreck!
There are so many things I’d like to do here:

Spend a morning sorting through the local tailor’s scraps for making a quilt
and/or doll clothes
Spend time learning how to make clothes – I knew how to
use a machine and sew from patterns – but I’ve never made a pattern of my own
from measurements
Swim more
Take walks around town (I’ve got a bike now,
and I’m already missing walking.)
Learn how to do traditional style appliqué
and quilting stitches
PAINT and DRAW – I really want to get over my
limitations about drawing and get into some real painting – big brushes – big
colors – big canvas.

Just before leaving Davis, I was gifted a basket full of acrylics and a big canvas. (Thanks Terri!) I stayed up one night and used up most of the paint creating some great textures and mixes and what turned out like some mum-like flowers....

off to mumbai

by ajay

left home 530 am
now here at udaipur airport
for bombay to see my nana (mom's dad) who is
in the hospital and won't last long they say

satya (waitlisted) is carring water from the sindhu river (collected by sara in ladakh)
to wash nana's feet with when we get there

i hope he gets a seat

Tara Turns 2!

Now this would be a great opportunity for a photo... but I have this sinking feeling that the beautiful one of her smiling before her lit candles didn't really get taken..

Tara had a great birthday. Well the day was not as focussed on her as it could have (I made and served seitan made from scratch at Shikshantar)... but it ended with a terrific dance party at our house. We invited all the kids and grownups from our little compound - which Ajay is calling our co-housing (basically true) and the Shikshantar crew - totalling around 30 people and Tara was thrilled. I ordered a big (6 kilo) fluffy cake from Udaipurs finest confectioner with lots of fresh cream frosting in various animal forms. Some thought that would be too much (and it did cost about the same as my bike!) - but there wasn't a piece left at the end. Ramreetji also fried up some samosas and spinach pakoras, among others, plus tea for all and grape Tang for the wee ones. It was a far cry from Satya's organic wheat tortilla party with homemade cake - but hey I don't have an oven here...



I love watching children blow out their birthday candles. Tara was so happy to sit among so many new friends and successfully blow out the candles on her cake - she was beaming. She knew it was a special day for her and she revelled in it. In the morning she was greeted by a new orange trike (which Satya and Violet promptly took over...) and has enjoyed the notion of pedaling since....

Yesterday, we all got bikes - a sturdy black one with rack and basket for me, a junker blue one for Satya with rack and, most importantly to him- a lock, and a fine (new, but don't tell them) pink one for Violet. Ajay got his a while back. It took us all afternoon to pick out and request adjustments to these bikes until they were ready for purchase (replaced the chain, seat, pedals, grips on Satya' s for instance). And took ice cream, fresh juice and ATM breaks with the kids to get them through the outing happily. But the big success was in convincing them that USED was better than new. The perfect bike for Violet (and not the very flashy one) was actually new - but I certainly wasn't going to tell her that - so hers was as used as Satya's and mine. Thankfully got through some sitcky whiny moments that would have set the tone for everything new is better for some time to come. Mother Earth is breathing more easily thanks to two American children happily choosing used bikes in India.

One Night Out, a Swim in the Morning and Some Cows

Ajay and I went out for the first time together since arrival - went to see a Hindi film (no subtitles and it was even a bit fast-paced for Ajay to catch the dialogue) at the Chetak Cinema. Quite a scene for Saturday night. One boxy building with no apparent entrance, swarmed by a crowd of mostly men in their 20s. We arrived later than the suggested one hour before show-time (it was 9pm and we just barely got the kids in bed in time to go), and discovered that it was sold-out but scalpers had tickets for 60 rupees (the box seats normally go for 35 rs). It took 20 minutes or so for our self-appointed middleman to get the tickets for us - but we even had assigned seats in the second balcony. Suddenly the sheet metal in front of the building rolled up exposing the theater entrance and a cheer went up as well as a surge forward. Dimly lit marble staircases paved our way upstairs and we found ourselves in a BIG theater - no multiplex here, just one show for everyone, and the seats even reclined a bit. Easy to fall over the balcony.

The show was Lage Raho Munna Bhai (I think) and was about a Mumbai laundry Mafioso who fell in love with a radio talk show host and had to pass himself off as an expert on Gandhi. Great cinematography and some brilliant Broadway/vaudeville-like moments. Half-way through (at 11:15 there was an intermission) we decided it was time to head home - for both the kids' sake and our own sleep. We went downstairs (through passageways of smokers - always a surprise after smoke-free California) and found the door shut again. Asking someone to open it for us, we learned that it was padlocked shut. He said he'd open it in three minutes. A bit freaky. - there were clearly no other exits, the place was poorly lit and we were locked inside (something like WalMart employees on the night shift). Unbelievable. 15 minutes later (after the crowds had gone back in for the 2nd half) he came back, unlocked the door and let 5 of us out (then rolled it back down and padlocked it again.)

Sunday morning: Ajay is determined to go to the lake for swimming. I've been hemming and hawing a bit because a) I wasn't sure of the water quality - although many had assured me that it was the best around because Fateh Sagar - the lake nearest us, was protected from sewage as it served as the municipal water supply. and b) I didn't think i had anything swimmable to wear over my bathing suit (which is not sufficient for public bathing except in hotel pools and Goa). Finally found a purple sundress (which I'm sure you would all recognize!) that did work just fine. Took the family and Ramreet in a "ric" (local for autorickshaw) around the back side of the lake where only a herd of goats was passing by and found a suitably shallow entrance for the kids.

The water was perfect! Not too unlike upstate New York. Well, if you don't count the submerged thorn bushes (!) that needed to be navigated around. There has been a drought here for the past 6-7 years and only now is the lake back up to its normal levels. The kids kept their Crocs on and Ajay and I suffered minor moments of extreme terror. In certain parts, their might be some crocodiles - but not where we were. After playing a bit with Tara in my arms, I took my leave for the middle of the lake, where I floated, dove and just enjoyed a good 40 minutes of clean, quiet solitude! The dress was even surprisingly comfortable to swim in. We'll be sure to go more often. The weather has cleared up and Violet and I displayed a bit of sunburn afterwards...

After napping, we prepared for an outing pre-arranged with the farmer who delivers our morning milk daily. We were headed out to meet the cows who feed (Tara) us. Another rickshaw ride, this time with Manju Didi (our nanny) accompanying us - out the east side of town. We soon found ourselves out of the city and passing fields of corn and oxen heading home for the night. Our farmer (whose name Ajay surely knows, but forgive me - I missed in all of this) has 4 cows that he milks, providing 2-6kilos each depending on their age. We arrived in time for the third and fourth milking. Violet and Satya were thrilled to see this but even more excited about petting the calves. The farmer brings the calf out to nurse briefly - to get the milk flowing (known as "let-down" among maternal lactation specialists like me), then ties it up while he milks the cow and lets it on again after his pail is full - and they go at with relish! There is enough for both the calves and the dairy business.

We went upstairs to an outdoor space and visited with his family after putting the milk in a large steel pot in his fridge. Very friendly and outgoing - happy to share his practices with us. Large cups of raw milk were brought out for us. They asked if we preferred it "garam" hot (boiled) or fresh and we chose raw considering that we had seen just how he cleaned the cow and handled the milk. Ahh - yum. His mother arrived with a load of long thick sticks balanced on her head perfectly as she greeted us with both hands -"Namaste" Lots of children around and a beautiful sunset over his fields. We had brought some sweet limes (mosamis) for them, as well as some heritage cucumber seed, and they loaded us down with huge chunks of kadoo - pumpkin, and fresh dhanya - cilantro, which he wholesales. On the trip back to town the driver paused to point out "jogilu?" - fireflies! And when we were home again - i realized that there had been no mosquitos there - not one - even though they are bugging me even now as I sit in the internet cafe.

We are really struck by the freedom of life here - infants riding on motorcycles, no car seats - no laws resticting everything one does. No it's not "safe" - but it seems that people are more careful! The pace of traffic is slower (however chaotic, they do drive MUCH slower than in the US, even if it is only because of the condition of the roads...) People have more say about their own destiny it seems and for that they seem much more ALIVE, vibrant and have a sense of humor, respect for others and are not governed by fear.

by Sara

Home in Udaipur

Yes – we are here. And “here” is the city of Udaipur in Rajasthan. I think Ajay and I both had the grand intention of keeping a regular journal to reflect on our daily life here, but we are going to have to be far more intentional about such goals (and many others) if we are to realize them.

We have a new home, and it is both grand and spare. Our friends at Shikshantar helped us find a most ideal urban house for our rural interests. We live in the second story of the main building of an almost defunct Gandhian community, complete with two cows, a large protected garden (protected from the cows and other roaming grazers), a half-dozen children under six, several charkhas (the spinning wheels associated with the Indian independence movement), a swing on a Chandan (Sandalwood) tree, Mehndi (the berries of which make the paste that women use to make henna designs on their hands and feet) several fruiting trees and vines I have yet to identify and even some frogs and tadpoles that mysteriously disappeared from the cow’s watering trough after Satya and Violet excitedly discovered them.

After the stultifying humidity of Delhi, it was a pleasure to arrive in overcast and drizzly Udaipur. Intermittent sun allowed clothes to dry out within a couple days, but two weeks into our time here, it rained solidly for four or five days. For us, the worst of it was that all our rooms were webs of laundry lines and in the aftermath, mildewed walls and clothes are only just trying to dry out. But for the city and the region – those rains were disastrous – the city experienced the worst floods in 35 years, and at least 25 people died, mostly from the crumbling of older buildings.

Our time as yet has been dominated by domestic issues related to moving in (more on that in a moment) but we have also been trying to work out our thoughts on “educating” our children this year. I feel so fortunate to have landed here at this time in our children’s development. Shikshantar is about many things, but at the center of their thought is learning, and how real learning happens outside of school – outside of institutions and even outside the space of “home schooling”.

On the wall above the computer I’m working on is this statement: “LIVING ORGANICALLY IS FREEING OURSELVES FROM THE CLUTCHES OF CONSUMERISM AND REGENERATING LINKAGES WITH NATURE, HUMANITY AND OUR INNATE ABILITIES TO CREATE, RELATE AND LEARN.” This is from a calendar produced by Abhivyakti Media for Development, an organization in Nasik, Maharastra run in part by Nitin (see Ladakh trip entry). Freeing myself from the “clutches of consumerism” was definitely a main motivating factor in my decision to move to India. And every day here I am presented with obvious alternatives to consumerism.

One part of Shikshanter’s work is a zero-waste initiative, whereby they are attempting to create zero-waste in their office as well as to creatively keep usable waste materials out of landfills and cows’ stomachs, etc. And one thing the creative folks here do is to make furniture (small stools, tables and desks at the moment) out of discarded cardboard, paper, etc. Now here is where I need to learn patience and to praise slowness, instead of instant gratification.

I will take a break from writing, to go find a plumber to help re-install an unused water heater of shikshanter’s in my bathroom at home so that I can stop asking Ramreet (our cook) to boil water for bathing….

by Sara

Reunited

Sara was not due back here until this coming Monday morning, but she arrived this afternoon almost unannounced, by air (the road down from Leh to Manali being washed out). Took Satya and Violet to the airport to fetch her without telling them where or why we were going for a car ride. What a sweet surprise they got! And I must say I found her quite lovely. She did bring the dried apricots she said were wildly abundant up there – one tiny packet of them. How curiously do deep joy and trivial disappointment commingle in this world.

Tara could hardly believe her eyes when we got home, and hasn’t stopped jumping up and down.

Ajay

Kudos to Ajay

I'd like to broadly announce my appreciation and adoration for/of Ajay for hanging out in Delhi with our children, waiting for the end of my Ladakhi adventure so that we may begin OUR year in India.

I love you forever Ajay.

One Day in New Delhi

Once upon a time I woke with two tiny kids in my bed who didn’t start there the night before. One was fast asleep and the other was tugging at me and whispering. A blissful moment it would have been, without the splitting headache I had from staying out too late last night and not drinking enough. Water, that is, and too late to have three tiny kids out with me, wedged against me in the careening taxi. Bless Satya for falling asleep in the car. And Violet and Tara for quickly following suit after a bath.

So on that day I woke up (after a week of springing out of bed to attend to the wee ones) only to lie there, miserable, for an hour or so while they fended (quite nicely) for themselves. Then a bite of guava, vomited, later a sip of water and bite of banana and threw it up, and knew I wasn’t taking them to the swimming pool after breakfast. It was going to be a home day. I was awake for about an hour – long enough to thank goodness for class privilege and the cook it has brought into our lives; Ramreet made the kids breakfast as I staggered away to dry heave at the sink for a couple of minutes and fall back into bed. I’m certain no little teeth were brushed, but the kids will live to see another day anyway.

What happened next? Oh, yes, saved by technology. So today yours truly, the downwardly-mobile Luddite ate humble pie and slept while the kids watched Young Black Stallion on the tube. Or is it a plasma screen.

Woke up in time to play some with Tara and put her to sleep while briefing our new nanny, Manju (the kids call her Didi, but as yet have no visible fondness for her of course). She’s worried that the job will not suit her because of the language gap and I can’t blame her. I also wonder if my kids are more rambunctious than the norm. Anyway we’re checking each other out. She’s a little quiet – I hope she’ll rev up and be able to play with / manage the kids.

Managed to hold down a little lunch, failed to get Satya or Violet to nap, and then packed V off to play with cousin Mehek down the street. (She came back hours later with red tight elastic marks from having worn Tara’s tiny underwear. Note to self to check her when she dresses herself.) Popped in Cinderella for Tara and Didi to watch while I failed to get Satya to nap. But managed an hour of sleep myself. I think Hukum Singh and Taoji and Ramreet enjoyed Cinderella too. Thanks to Meghna for the DVD player.

Off to Vijay and Sonali Primlanis’ place to play – got my best aerobic workout in months (sad but true) playing soccer with young Dev against Vijay and Satya. Then a couple more hours of excellent play in the park, mostly swings and slide for Tara and Violet, and soccer and chase for Satya, (and with Manju standing by, having her offers of help snubbed and meeting the other nannies), ending with a family closing circle – intention: to honor earth and sky and end our day – reality: satya and violet clobbering each other.

In to a simple meal of dal, rice, yogurt and boiled veggies. Violet was in her own world – because of the underpants no doubt. Tara as usual ate almost nothing (has lived for months mainly on the milk I give her at night and on popcorn). Satya ate a ton of spinach.

After a toffee quickly off to baths and bedtime, one fight over toy Indian flags subdued,etc etc etc. Good thing I’m almost to the end of the story because midnight will come and the blog god forbid will have tomorrow’s date on it

After dragging Manju through the post-bedtime cleanup routine was done for the day and ready to blog when Sukumar called on his way here from the airport – got things lined up for him, and we had a chat when he got here and that’s about it.

Took Violet to pee and started typing and here I am. Tara woke a few minutes ago for milk and to pee. I’d better quit while I’m still awake and not drooling on the keyboard.

For future blogs (by request)?
Insecticides
The class divide, including: Who Sits?, Separate but Equal Dishes, and Musings on Color
Kids and Hindi
Zero to Five household staff in 3 seconds flat

by Ajay

We made it. (Date: Friday July 21)

Here we are in Delhi after FINALLY getting out of California. What a push that was. More on that later. First, impressions of our arrival.

We left the plane (last of course) and wheeled our wheelies up the jetway. Satya stopped and turned to Violet with a smile and encouragement to take in the scent. It was definitely there: the scent of India that is exported and sometimes never washes out of clothes, books , etc. And it was moist and not nearly as strong as I had expected. We all smiled. They had looked forward to this for so long. Ganesh welcomed us to the terminal and I was struck by how peaceful the place was and familiar. I expected it to be jostling, loud and a little intimidating. But it was simple, small and friendly.

On the (slow, sweaty) ride home with the kids on/around our laps they were thrilled to see and count the cows on the roadside, the chickens the “cycles” as Tara call the motorcycles.

High in the Himalayas

by Sara

Here I am sitting in a cybercafe in Leh, Ladakh I've just recovered enough from the altitude change to walk more than 10 feet uphill and not be winded. And what an altitude change it is! Leh is at about 12,000 feet which is considerably less than the 17,582 ft pass our rickety bus traversed just before sundown two days ago.

Wow. Where to start.... Ajay, Satya and Violet dropped me off at an apartment in central Delhi whence began my journey with a terrific bunch of folks from all over India but united by Shikshantar. Let me introduce them a bit, now that I have gotten to know them quite well on this marathon bus trip through neverland.

• Sumi, mother of two living in Ahmnebad, Gujurat - brilliant smile, raised in Kerala (with a strong hand, I should add, as apparently most children are... told to get educated or else). Now planning to build a collapsible bunk bed out of tires and (?).
• Vishal - crazy, happy-go-lucky sweetheart from Udaipur who makes art, furniture, you name it out of garbage.
• Nitin - the elder in the group, well-travelled, chocolate lover with from Nasik, Maharastra.
• Panji, sweet charmer (read: bachelor) farmer from Udaipur.
• Sanjay - the least crazy of the bunch, but still a fine sense of humor -has a 9 month old daughter and lives in Madhya Pradesh.
• Navin - Funny, has-a-theory- for-every-phenomena "independent researcher" from Chennai.
• Madan, tall farm-family scholar/photographer.
• Sandeep, just married 3 days before \trip (so what's he doing here?), sweet, pudgy guy works with Nitin in Nasik.
• Sangeeta - small powerhouse, singer, mother - originally took her for demure, but now I can see there is much more there!
• And finally, Manish - or Manish Baba- a named he earned giving impromptu "sweat lodge" treatments on the bus (wrapped up willing participants in my sleeping bag and encouraged them to breath deeply for at least 5 minutes- quite refreshing actually).

Manish, Vishal and Panji and I think Madan all currently live in Udaipur. The others are part of a self-formed group that meets every two months somewhere in India to discuss their lives and projects - complete with their families usually. (All are married except Vishal, Panji and Navin). And they usually set up these meetings around some event, like this ISEC conference.

The journey was surreal. Freeway ride past vast landfills north of Delhi leading into verdant fields and grazing and bathing water buffalo - amazingly sleek animals - black, horned shiny animals that provide most of the milk in India. Travelled all night through Himachal Pradesh and in the morning began the real ascent. Climbing through the Kullu Valley - the land of honeymoons - the terrain was lush - pine and palm trees intermingled, vines hanging from the cliffs, fast flowing river below. In Manali, the palm trees gave way to orchards of luscious pears and slightly dry apples (had a chance to stop for some - peeled of course). In some parts there were no obvious inhabitants and then suddenly there would be construction equipment and materials on every curve, building houses high on the cliff side.

And we kept going up up up. The vegetation changed so often its hard to recollect now - but I do remember many waterfalls off huge rock faces, a very windy road and alpine wildflowers, low and patchy. This must be the most abundant time of year to travel - in full bloom. In fact, I believe the road from Manali is closed after September. We passed huts displaying full-body snow suits and long fuzzy coats for sale. And I even saw some wearing them (the fuzzy coats) but I was still dressed and comfortable in my sundress that was almost too much in humid Delhi. It took about 10 hours between Manali and our night stopover. The drive was interrupted by brief snack stops for aloo paranthas (overwhelmingly greasy) and tent cities set up along the side of the road.

That night we stopped in Keylang (sp?) for a much needed rest - mostly to move our legs and arms in some uncramped way. The air had cooled and most were feeling the altitude. I had to walk very slowly up hill. We had a relaxed and bountiful meal of Tibeten momo (dimsum-like dumplings) noodle soups, garlic potatoes and chocolate rice pudding.

We began again at 5 am for the "easy" part of the journey - 16 hours overland through glacial mountains and desert. Within an hour we came to a halt where the road was covered with 10-75lb wet rocks and mud and a jeep stuck in the middle of that. Within two or three hours, all hands had helped move the jeep out, and we were able to switch buses with a local bus trapped on the other side of the mudslide. Not much different from our "long distance" bus. And the dirver made sure to transfer his tape player and amplifier (not your ordinary speaker!).

We had expected to stop for breakfast but now that was to wait a bit - I'm not sure if we got a meal before 3pm that day, but we sure did break out all the snacks we carried with us. Our group made the bus ride festive - always sharing and occasionally even dancing to the blaring hindi film music keeping the driver awake. Some times we were travelling up one river valley or another, sometimes just climbing switchback after switchback. Once we saw a bicyclist!!! and were awed by his determination. Every few hours we would be surprised to see a row of tents staked at the side of the road offering hot food and wool hats. The breaks became quite short - usually having to choose between food or bladder relief. (I choose food on these occasions, becuase it is possible to have the bus stop elsewhere for the other!)

Now we were marking the altitude - 14,000 ft, 15,000 ft.

We would pass barren moutainsides of scree for hours and then somewhere along the line there would be oasis-like shallow lakes.

At one point we were back travelling on one side of a river valley and suddenly you could see terraced fields! Plateaus of farmland kind of flowing down from the mountain. It is so difficult to describe particularly with the vast changes taking place over this 3 day journey. I took a few photos but hardly enought to tell the story. We crossed "the glacier" at Rohtang Pass which was windswept and rainy and populated by a hundred saddled ponies waiting for I'm not sure exactly what.

Twice I was asked for my passport at one of these tent stops. We were now in Jammu Kashmir, and almost all the oncoming traffic was army trucks or tankers. We stocked up on plastic water bottles each time, although it seemed that the glacial water melt would be far better. Occasionally we would pass roadcrews seemingly abandoned hours away from any vehicle, and shoveling rocks off the road or preparing asphalt on burning charcoal beds.

My memory is quickly fading on the details. But I stayed healthy and happy, well prepared for the hail at 17,000 ft with my fleece, wool hat and down sleeping bag. I shared what extra warmth I had packed with some of my less-prepared companions from the Indian plains.

And then, well after sundown, civilization appeared with a vengeance. Suddenly it was just like any other Indian city. Actually it was an army base - full shops, restaurants, houses, ditches, etc. It was shocking after nearly falling off of mountain cliffsides. We arrived in Leh at 10 pm and our bumbling taxi drivers (had to rattle the connections on the battery under my seat to restart the van each time they stopped to retrace steps or ask more directions) took over an hour to travel 15 minutes to our hard-to find guest house.

But here we are now, in a Ladakhi home, in Sankar Village, just above Leh, surrounded by bubbling streams and home gardens of cauliflower, turnips, carrots, potatoes, swiss chard and other greens, barley and wheat. We had a midnight dinner of Ladakhi flat noodle soup and chard. And in the morning we were greeted by a lush inhabited countryside flanked by these monstrous mountains speckled with monasteries.

Yesterday I met and walked with Helena Norberg Hodge, author of Ancient Futures and founder of The Ladakh Project, promoting traditional Ladakhi culture and farming in the face of a practically cosmopolitan city brimming with adventure outfitters and young fit tourists. In the evening I proudly walked the 30 minutes uphill without losing my breath. That will be the extent of my trekking in Ladakh.

Home sweet home in New Delhi

I could do worse. Two weeks in a full-size house in a desirable New Delhi neighborhood. Tightly knit neighborhood chock full of relatives. Little cousins that Satya and Violet play with -- toys and sports equipment freely lent to us, which we used in the large dry basement during today's downpour (after they played with abandon in the rain, and before heading to the park immediately behind the house).

I could do better.
My soul doesn't belong here.
And besides, I think i left my passport at the bank today.

Some food for thought:
In a park full of small children, i am usually the only parent -- the other adults being full-time nannies.
Sara is en route to remote Ladakh with a contingent heading for this conference: http://www.isec.org.uk/pages/ladakh-conf.html, along with some folks from Shikshantar, http://www.swaraj.org/shikshantar/.

Looking forward to setting up shop in Udaipur two weeks from now and to making good on the promise of goats.

ajay

Up, up and away ?

Korean Air Flight 24, dep. San Francisco at 2:40 pm today. Spent most of last night packing the last bags, and sorting through neglected paperwork, including the emptying of old receipts and my fishing license out of my wallet. This morning -- scrambling with loose ends an hour before leaving for the airport -- got word of the railway bombings in Mumbai (our destination) http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/1731631.cms and decided to scrub the mission for now, fearing perhaps foolishly that the city could explode into the violence of reprisals, as has happened often enough elsewhere in India and the world. So here we sit at my folks' place, quite safe from the roughness present just beyond the boundaries of our normal lives. Told the kids that the airplane had engine trouble. They decided that it's just as well to wait for a plane with reliable engine, since you can't just pull over to the side of the road in mid-flight. Our alibi sure beat explaining the nature of covert terrorism and of brutal mobs to such little people. At some point the veil will certainly rise.

Looks now that the event was horrific for those attacked, and their loved ones, but didn't trigger an unhinging of the city. So go ahead and in hindsight call us paranoid.

We have reservations for next Tuesday, the 18th -- and will make the most of the time with a few days camping, hiking, swimming like we'd hoped to do in June.

Not foreseeing this change in plans, we almost bought a nonrefundable ticket for travel from Mumbai to Udaipur next week. I'm glad that we didn't, since we'd have lost it -- but i will be digging through the trash for my fishing license tonight.

Ajay

Prayer for the New Year

O Thou
who abidest in our hearts
most merciful and compassionate God
Lord of heaven and earth

We forgive others their trespasses
and ask Thy forgiveness of our shortcomings

We begin this new year
with pure heart and
with clear conscience
with courage and hope

Help us to fulfil the purpose of our lives
under Thy divine guidance

Amen

(Hazrat Inayat Khan)

Why we are going - part 2

by Ajay
Staying three nights at Greg and Julia's: celebrating independence day, shoveling out my classroom and office, and taking care of our house. One joy and 2 medium-large hassles.
Getting our visas for the year was smooth and easy thanks to two angels.
Now my hope - may it not be in vain - is to shut our suitcases Saturday and have two days to chill with the kids before our flight. Maybe go fishing, go sailing. Dadima says it's hopeless.
Boy, I never thought miscommunication could be so robust until reading Sara's words about my motives in the first post on this blog. Immediately I wondered how to correct the posting, but then realized that, as Sara says, she's unclear on my motives, and the words are hers, not ours. So now her name is on the post, not just ours. Any attempt to merge our identities is doomed.
At least consciously, i believe i'm going for the richness it will give our lives rather than as a stopgap, henpecked, relaxing escape. More on this when it's daytime.

How transparent to make the blog?

We G.O.O.D. (Got Out of Davis)!

by Sara

The beginning of our journey was a slow and somewhat painful one - uprooting ourselves from a loving community that has really been coming together for us in the last couple of years, the place we call "the golden handcuffs:" Davis, California.

Today we celebrated 4th of July by swimming at the Rec Pool, and hanging out with friends in their yard: splashing, eating great food, mudpiling, drinking odd colored malt beverages and then heading to our favorite fireworks viewing spot on the greenbelt for what Tara called "fun!" (she was the best "ooh-ah"-er in the crowd!) It was the kind of day I will miss.

Last week we moved out of our house - about 10 minutes before someone else moved in! And during the weekend of our move we visited an intentional community in Sonoma, went to a wonderful dinner party, and had the best going-away party ever (the kid's just seemed to have so much fun in the park, and even I was relaxed!). Life in Davis actually felt quite good.

And to top that, we even had what really should be called a "rooting ceremony." I had several important family artifacts that needed a permanent home: our beloved dog's ashes (Mawball's - the greatest family canine ever!)in our fireplace puja corner, both Violet and Tara's placentas (from their home-births at 221 Lindo) in the freezer )and I couldn't very well leave those ziplocs for the tenant), and a native Buckeye tree that I had started from seed in Oakland* waiting in a neglected black plastic pot.

So, I thawed out the placentas, took a handful of soil from under the Fuyu tree where Satya's placenta was buried**, dusted off the cedar box with Mawball's tags and ashes, gathered all the piles of rocks and shells and feathers that we all had collected over the years and piled in our rooms, our puja corner, the bathrooms, etc., and called Ajay, Satya, Violet and Tara together in the backyard. The bunnies, Puff and Scruff, (now lovingly cared for by our GodBlessHerFantasticHousekeeper Leticia) had recently vacated the Northwest corner of our yard, in just the spot, beneath the redwoods that I had sometime ago planned to plant the Buckeye in, so their feces contributed too.

We gathered in a circle around the hole, spread the ashes, examined the placentas (Tara's still had it's cord; Violet's had been dried in the shape of a heart by her midwife, Amy), sprinkled Satya's soil, filled the hole, and watered the tree and then placed all our stones, shells, and feathers all arond the base of the tree. Ajay said it felt like a fist in his belly - having this thoughtful, and rooting ceremony, during the last hour of our time in our family home. For me it was closure. I had put off dealing with all these pieces of our life, waiting for the "right" place to plant them, presumably in someother house that would satisfy me. And now we were leaving, and Davis was the right "home" for all these things, even if not necessarily for me. As they say: "only time will tell." I am so curious to know if we will return to 221 Lindo Place, or even to Davis.


* After unhappily leaving a marriage counseling session one weekday morning in the late '90s, I drove right past my workplace in Emeryville, across the Bay and Golden Gate Bridges and up into Marin until the greenery slowed me down. I found myself at the Spirit Rock meditation center, and after re-balancing myself under the blessed shade of it's parent tree, I picked up this giant chestnut-looking seed of what I later learned was a Buckeye tree - a sprawling native Californian tree with fragrant white flowers. On that same morning, I also discovered an amazing 100 year old Magnolia tree that was encircled by a 75-foot radial ring of its offshoots.

** His placenta was actually buried under an orange tree on his third birthday, but that didn't survive, so we took soil from there to plant the Fuyu!