I got back to NY in the afternoon. I was jetlagged for over
five days after I returned. It was totally worth it! Happy new year!!

Today we headed back to Mumbai. Spent the day running
> errands, and going to dinner at Shiv Sager, round two! And then, the
> inevitable, we got dropped off at the airport at midnight for our 5am
> flight.

Oh and this was my last time seeing the auto rickshaws with the following sticker on the back:

Capacity : 3 Idiots .

When I had first arrived in Mumbai I was afraid to sit in a rickshaw thinking that sticker might be on the back. Later I found out that 3 Idiots was a new hit Bollywood film! Lol ... It's playing in the USA right now.

We got up early today and all went to Sevni together to hang out with my family. On the way, my nephew threw out a AA battery out of the window because the cell did not work anymore. Before I could stop him, it was gone. In India, people throw any items out of a moving vehicle. It could be any type of garbage. But as we all know, improper disposal of batteries will cause long term damage to our environment, and to the lives of those living in the polluted areas. In Sevni, we had everyone there, from my dad’s sister and husband, her 3 kids: Maya (of Saroli) and her husband and 2 kids; Jitubhai (of Chattanooga Tennessee) and his wife and their one kid; and Gurubhai (of Canada) and his wife was on her way from Toronto when the bomb scare happened in Amsterdam so she would not get to India until the next day. The next day was my nephews 'babri' (first haircut). A special Hindu ceremony is performed. I was so excited to attend, but unfortunately I had to get out of town back to Mumbai for my flight and to pick up my dear friend’s wedding duppata (veil) . So I did not get to stay for the babri. After eating fresh nasta (morning snacks), we had to head back to my grandparent’s village. On our way back to Rajpura, my other Fuwa (uncle) took us to Bardoli where we ran some errands. That night we prepped for our journey back. The village was alive. There was a wedding about to happen that night. The boy had come from America to marry a girl from my village. (It’s the current trend) The village was so excited for the wedding. People were dancing and in good spirits. I went outside to watch it, and it was stunning. There was horse and carriage, and people dancing. Fireworks blared.

My gran found out that we had gone to that Vishnu Yagna (prayer) and she was upset that we did not eat there. Dining at a yagna is supposed to be very good luck. So guess what... we woke up early and went again! I objected and told my dad we really needed to pack our suitcases, and he insisted on having the spiritual excursion. We went with a neighbor. The auspicious ceremony was beautiful. The priests wore yellow robes. The family in the prayer was seated in a square around a fire. Each couple also had their own miniature fire. They sat on elaborate chairs. They were dressed up like royalty. It was the parents, their two kids and their wives from America, and other close family. The attendees, like me, were separated in groups of men and women. For a little while I sat with the women, and then I went to go sit with my dad. Yea, I broke so many rules in India... Oh well. So as the family is participating in the prayer around the fire, next to them is another square prayer area that women are walking around. These women are people who are attending the yagna. They would walk around and then stop to pray and then keep walking. I asked around to try to understand what this yagna was all about.. I could not get any straight answers. I asked the young and the old. I even asked my gran. This is when it hit me, even in India, my religion and its customs have become commercialized. The only thing that everyone knew was that the family had taken a vow to give up something (sort of like Lent). This yagna was to signify the completing of this major sacrifice. However, nobody could tell me what was given up, for how many years, and why they were doing this 3 day yagna, and feeding every attendee for lunch and dinner everyday. Everyone was moved. They knew they were being blessed for being the presence of these priests and this family. After eating the meal, I felt a little more spiritual myself? Maybe it was a placebo effect, but still, I was becoming as inquisitive about Hinduism as I was went I did my History class research projects in middle/high school. Let’s just say Hinduism is vastly different from what you learn and read about in books, and how it is practiced in its motherland. After the yagna we headed to Saroli to spend the night with my cousin and her husband and kids and in-laws. We had a great night. Although I got bit by so many mosquitos. I was itching everywhere. We watched Boodnath ( a hindi movie about a kid's imaginary friend ) with my nephew. I know I have only met my cousin once ten years ago, but her and her family was like we hadn’t skipped a day in our life as a family. We laughed and caught up on many memories. I am joyous over the strength of our relations through the distance and the time frame that has passed.

We woke up early and went around to many villages trying to visit relatives and friends. We spent an average of 20 minutes at each home. We spent a few hours in Navsari at my dad's school buddy's house. It was fun. It was interesting to see how city people live compared to those of us from small villages. They have a two story townhome behind their welding shop. They had some furniture. The place was very open and had sunlight. We went onto so many villages. I met so much family. I was avoiding having to drink water. I sometimes pretended to sip to be polite. (Foreigners cannot drink tap water. Sometimes filtered water is not really filtered. Most Americans boil water before drinking it. ) I had about a dozen conversations about getting married... We even stopped by at a 21 priest Vishnu yagna in the village of Dhamroad. Here we ran into more relatives. We carried into the night stopping through village after village. It is dangerous to travel at night in rural Gujarat. The roads are unsafe. The trails are unmarked. The only light you can see is the sugarcane fields burning at a distance. Also, there are animals out, and often times pedestrians walking on the roads. It was great to meet extended family. I have so much history in a place that I have only visited twice. It reminded me of the importance of learning the family tree and trying to pass on that message to other Gujaratis. Who would want their family legacy to disappear or be lost from one generation to the next. And today, it is especially important to try to understand genetics and disease prevention.
So in my grandparents’ house, there is a rat. It scours through the house at night. There is no possible way to trap this thing. So we live it. That’s right; we have a rat living in the house. All of us sleep on furniture that is elevated on legs. I was sleeping the bedroom until I could not breathe. There was very poor air circulation. I moved out into the living space, where my gran slept on a hard sofa on one side, and my dad slept on another piece of furniture similar to that one. My grandfather had a ‘bed’ like mine. All four of fell asleep there in the darkness. I would normally turn my iphone on and play some tunes to fall asleep, and so I would not hear the rat crawling around. After the first few nights, I was over the rat. I was onto new bugs. I was trying to avoid mosquitos in the night. Until one morning I woke up, and I had a giant bite on my cheek. I wrote it off as acne. Until I noticed how hard it was, and others began to notice how red it was. The first thing I thought of was that ‘Tales from the Crypt’ story we all used to read when we were young. You know that famous story about the lady who goes to sleep, wakes up with a bite on her face, and it turns out a spider laid eggs in her face. Yep, that’s exactly what I started thinking… Good times! The bump grew bigger, redder, and eventually started to hurt. I counted the days until I could make it to a dermo. The pain subsided, and the bump went down. Today, it’s still red… and several people including my gran, and Kritika, just to name a few have tried to rub it off my face thinking it was a smudge or trying to understand what it was. Thanks! Lol regardless of the bugs, rats, etc, I love India… I love the simple life.

Today was Jignesh and Rina's night wedding! It was magical!

We got up at 5am in Sevni and left to go back to my home village Rajpura. Then we got ready and went to Ninat for Jignesh's satak. This is a pre wedding ceremony for the groom.


After the event, I spent the evening with my grandparents. I can see how Americans become so frustrated when visiting or talking to my grandparents. They live like they may have all their life. The home was rebuilt about five years ago, and it is modern. However, they still live they did. What I mean is, each morning my grandmother wakes up and goes to light the geyser to start the hot water. Then she puts on a pot of chai, which my dad took over while he was visiting. It drove my gran crazy. (Men are not supposed to do housework) They take baths. Then they do their prayer. They are too old to leave the house and walk to the village temple. We go for them, which is a common practice in Hinduism. Praying for others and conducting fasts and prayers for others is common. So each morning as we walked around the temple bowing down to each God and Goddess, I knew I was doing it for my grandparents. We would take Prasad(food blessed by God) back to my grandparents. My gran cooks on the floor. We have a perfectly fine counter, as well as utensils. She prefers to sit on the floor and do all of her chores. Both my grandparents have an old mentality. They do not get any news. I was going crazy not knowing what was happening in the world, but they did not have a tv, and nobody delivered the paper, because my grandfather is blind, and my grandmother is illiterate. They heard stories by word of mouth if someone came to visit that day. They buy their food for vendors who roll their wooden carts through the village full of different types of vegetables and fruits, none of which ever looked fresh. Yet, my gran would stock up. While we were in town, my dad replaced their refrigerator. My gran is used to leaving food outside. Any type of food. We all know bacteria can grow, and it could be bad for you, but they have done this for years, so she did not know the difference. They wash clothes in the back of the house squatting over a large outdoor stone that has a faucet running over it. We have workers that come to wash clothes and wash dishes. Our workers are from a lower caste. My gran cannot use her pots and pans, and nice dishware because the workers may take it with them. Throughout the day my grandparents eagerly wait for phone calls. They pace around the house. They look forward to hearing about local weddings, and hearing stories from passerby travelers. The greed lies, and cheating flood the village daily. The air is thick and weighed down by negativity and folklore. The stories range from a recent mother and wife from Austin Tx who had a drinking problem, and died from alcohol poisoning, to stories of misfortune, others about the riches of America. The gossip is so intense, there are days it gives you headaches, momentary tears, and even stomach pain. The worst part is when false information is spread through out the village and onto the next. It hurt me to see the reputations of others being degraded and laughed at. What a shame it was. That evening, I had the chance to interview my grandparents for the story corps project. They gave me some interesting answers about their lives. I was able to record it all. They did not understand some of the questions so it was tough, but they got through it. I was proud of them. The one question I really wanted them to answer was what advice would they give to their grandchildren and their children, but they could not understand it. Regardless, I think their life story gives me so much inspiration and values that I will take with me and spread to others. This includes, hope for the darkest days, because in the end my toughest day could not have been anything like my grandparents worst day. Faith for knowing that truth prevails from all of the stories where lies were told and they were cheated, truth prevailed for them. Courage to know that if someone tells you that you cannot do something, you can try harder to prove it to yourself, rather than showing it off to them. Education, knowing that they missed an opportunity to learn because of lack of funding, I know I should appreciate what I have learned, and the freedom of being able to be anything I want to be. Health, having the option to have insurance and taking care of myself. Being able to enjoy fresh food, hot water, running electricity, and the extra perks like going out for a drink, watching tv, going out to see a movie, etc.

Overall, despite the negative views at the way my grandparents and older generations live, I had the chance to understand that they are stuck in their ways. Their home remedies and old recipes are fine. They live a peaceful life. I think it isn't fair to compare today's luxuries to their simplicity. I hope more people can start to appreciate that and leave the elders alone.

My dad and I took an autorickshaw from our village to Kadod High School to meet two more fellows. These girls were living at the school in a house next to the Principal’s home on campus. The girls were ever so sweet and welcoming. I had the opportunity to attend classes with them, where they taught English lessons. I had the chance to meet the principal, who told me that they were very impressed with Nanubhai Education Foundation. Nanubhai was the principal of Kadod High School. He retired many years ago and started his own polytechnic school. The current principal knew who my family was. In fact, on this trip I learned that my grandfather attended Kadod High School, as well as my dad’s sister. I learned that my grandfather was fluent in English. As I walked through the halls, I thought about what it must have been like for them to be young and daydreamers. My grandfather had wanted to leave India, but unfortunately in his lifetime the government never granted him a visa. The same goes for my grandmother who only finished 4th Standard at another local school before marrying my grandfather when she was age 13. What a different time that was. Neither of my grandparents had the opportunity to visit America. Back to Kadod, the kids were rowdy. I just don’t know where they get the energy in the heat of India. They are always squirming and talking during lessons. At Kadod, one of the fellows walked me to the nearby hostel that was built for students whose parents left them to study for the year. This is common for parents who can afford it. It is also a common practice for Indian parents abroad. Many return to India to leave their children in a boarding school. When we went the hostel, we had to cross a bridge, where the Fellow pointed out the trash that was thrown overboard into the water and the grass. I notice a dark colored pig roaming through the trash. In fact, there were many pigs that roam around Kadod, amongst the many different types of animals that they have out there. After my visit to Kadod High School, we took the autorickshaw to see my Foi and Fuwa's (dad's sister and husband) village Sevni. I spent the afternoon hanging out with them. Sitting on their balcony swing chair all afternoon and sipping hot chai. Later I got ready to go to Jignesh's garba. Jignesh grew up down the road from me in Fort Lauderdale. He was getting married so they were hosting a garba (event where you dance). I had a great time. I finally got to do garba after all these years!! It is a traditional gujarati folk dance. It was a great time. They had international foods. I had some ice cream! Ice cream in India is amazing! We could not stay late because of the danger of traveling in the night. We spent the night in Sevni at my Aunt’s house.

I went to Bajipura HS with Drew and Megan.

I received a formal introduction to the students at their assembly.

Drew and Meg are wonderful educators.

They are patient and caring.

I went to class with Drew, where he read a Christmas storybook.

I had the chance to see the Bajipura Library project. It was shocking to understand that bats live under the shields on the wall. Also, that old exams are still lurking in the old storage space. The cabinets were full of unorganized story and education books. The kids do not understand catalog yet. Slowly they will introduce how to organize and maintain the bookshelves. They have a few students selected as the library monitors. They have a check out system. The kids truly enjoy reading the books and looking at photos.

I had the chance to meet the principal, who knew of my village. (My village only has about 20 houses passed on for generations. In Gujarat, India, you are first identified by your surname, next your hometown village, and next your father’s name, hence your father’s name is always your middle name, unless your female. Females are born with their father’s name as their middle name, and when they marry they take their husbands first name as their middle name. Ok, if I have confused you, I can explain further. )

Meg, Drew, and I went to the initiation of the SCOPE program by the Gujarat state government in the main lecture hall. This is an English certification program in connection to Cambridge Uni (uk). With this certificate you can obtain a visa, get a job, etc. The government was present to introduce it to the students and faculty. The school announced that teachers from America were at the school to better education. It was moving to hear Nanubhai and its recognition. The officials lit a diya and took blessings. This type of auspicious prayer is normally performed at the beginning of any new journey.

I also had the opportunity to visit a few classes. The kids are so energetic.

I went to the practice for an upcoming performance for Megan's spoken English class. They were doing a mock of who wants to be a millionaire. The kids spoke in English!!!!!!! They were so happy and they wrote their own script!

Today was no ordinary day at Bajipura HS. It was an early release day, so I took a rickshaw from Bajipura to Madhi. I jumped into a rickshaw with 14 other people..... Very cool experience!! I had to keep an eye out by memory to make sure I got dropped off in Madhi. It was about 20 minutes away. When it appeared I asked to get off. I gave the driver 5 rupees. The rickshaw moved very slowly along the route. I was sitting inside with 4 other small ladies. Wow. Getting onto the MTA subway at rush hour is nothing if you can sit down inside a rickshaw with 14 people.

At Madhi HS I joined Kirsten and Lyndi with their classes. I got to watch them judge an English speech competition which was pretty intense. It is hard to judge speeches altogether. I think Kirsten and Lyndi did a fair job. The speeches were about famous people like Gandhi. It was impressive to see English spoken at this Gujarati Medium school. The principal gave a moving speech to the students in Gujarati. He gave an example to the students: You were born into your family. At home, naturally you learned Gujarati. Nobody sat down to teach you. You naturally acquired the skills you needed to speak, and once you entered school you were able to learn to read and write it. He said English is very similar. You need to listen. Listening is the key to understanding and learning English. He said when you have the chance listen to the news in English instead of Gujarati. Read in English instead of Gujarati, etc. He went on to say that by listening, you will build curiosity to understand the language. I was impressed by his speech. It’s true. I took two years of Spanish, and I never associated it with reality, like listening to news, movies, etc. I never grasped it.

I spent the day at Madhi HS Lyndi and Kirsten. I had the opportunity to see the Nanubhai fellows in action. I attended several different classes throughout the day. I went to the Spoken English class with Kirsten where the students created colorful paper ornaments, and they made Christmas cards to give to teachers throughout the school. I had fun assisting Kirsten and interacting with the kids. They were ecstatic to paint and color. The kids at these schools do not have the option to be creative, or think outside the box. Each student is expected to perform a certain way in their academics and there is little room for creativity. I could see that when students would copy one another on their greeting cards. Kirsten played Christmas carols on her laptop for the kids while they worked. It was a fun class. I thought it was excellent to meet bilingual children and speak to them in both English and Gujarati. I also had the chance to travel to the nearby English Medium school with Lyndi, where we watched the tiny kids eat lunch. They were so adorable. They had the nicest plaid, navy uniforms. Some carried mini tiffins full of Indian food, and other had plastic containers. Each of them sat down and sometimes exchanged items. The kids swarmed Lyndi with warmth and questions. I was the mystery person, and everyone wanted to know what my father’s name was. (to identify where I am from) The students were much quieter at this school than the Gujarati Medium school. They sat down and listen attentively and actively participated in the courses. Lyndi had a simple lesson plan for the day. She would read the 12 days of Christmas story to the children. Everyone enjoyed it. The best part of all of the classes throughout the day was when they sang 'We wish you a merry Christmas'. That was the best. You can imagine Indians pronouncing their "w's". It sounded so funny. As you tell them how to pronounce it properly, it seemed like they wanted to try harder to pronounce it incorrectly. It was odd. I felt like the ascent was kind of fake? If the kids really tried, they could pronounce the words just like me, Lyndi, and Kirsten. I wish they would have tried harder. It did add character. I was so impressed by the openminds, and the Christmas parties at the schools.
In the evening, everyone has something they want to do, whether it’s run in the fields, prep for the next day, or in my instance, each morning and night at 7 am and 7 pm the temple in front of the flat that the Fellows live in, conducts aarti. Aarti is a song that is sung to Goddess Durga. This prayer lasts about 15 minutes and is concluded with an offering of Prasad (food blessed by God). So I decided to venture out into the darkness to the brightly lighted temple that had blaring music. I entered to only find three other people inside with the priest. I was surprised that a village that has a lot of people in town would not come out of their own and walk down the road to take Aarti. I say this because in the America, you do it at home at your alter, or drive out to the temple. I enjoyed my moment in the temple. It had been over two years since I had taken Aarti. ( After my move to NYC, I have been unable to find a garba to attend, a temple to become a member of, and overall, lost my beliefs). This was a lovely experience. The power of the song was a new energy moving through me.
Another fun thing I got to do in Bajipura was take a walking tour with Drew. He was an excellent host. He showed me the different houses, styles of infrastructure, and the dairy farm. He showed me the house made of mud, and how it was so clean. He told me about “Patel Street”, where all of the Patels live. I learned about the NRIs that were in town. I saw the migrant workers and their tents set up in the distance. As well as a few of them washing clothes in the river. Drew also mentioned that many different religious groups were in the area, and had places of worship. For example, just down the road was a mosque and often you could hear their call to prayer. Drew also mentioned that there were church groups nearby. He said it was nice to see everyone living amongst each other.

Today I spent the day at home in the village, and in the afternoon I was
dropped off in Bajipura. This small village was where the Nanubhai
fellows are living. We sat down together for dinner. Drew made a great dinner. On weekdays they have a cook who comes to make lunch and dinner. I enjoyed moving into the house. I was excited to hang out with the fellows. They live gujarati style. They take showers by boiling water, using a bucket. The shower runs cold water. They have met the neighbors, they go to dinners that local people invite them to, and they are known in the community. They are well known for running in the early morning and late evening through 3 villages and sugarcane fields. They are training for a marathon. So tonight, Kirsten and Meg went on a run. Everyone prepped for the next day. I covered myself in bug spray. I was staying in Meg's room. It reminded me of a college dorm. We slept with the fan on. The bungalow is located on a major road. All night long, trucks drive by carrying goods being transported throughout India. The trucks in India blow horns that play a song. They are loud. They are loud enough to get animals to move out of the way. Good thing I am a deep sleeper, the noise did not bother me at all! I had a great night's rest.

> Today is my first day learning more about Nanubhai Education
> Foundation. The day starts very early. Mind you, this is Saturday.
> In India kids go to school on Saturday. If families can afford it,
> kids also go to 'tution' program before or after school. When I
> arrive at Madhi High School, the kids are just starting their day. I
> went up to the teachers’ lounge on the second floor to wait for Kirsten
> and Lyndi, two Nanubhai fellows. While we wait, the other teachers
> and staff of the school are intrigued by our arrival. They ask us to
> sit, and they begin to speak to my dad. I disappear when Kirstin
> arrives. She gets attacked by students. They are all screaming teacher, teacher. She gives me the run down on the school. She tells me on
> Saturday they have mass drill. As Lynda and Kirsten walk around campus, they are ever so popular. The kids attack them. They continue to scream "teacher, teacher". They are obsessed with the two teachers. Kirsten tells me that they thought this would only happen in the beginning (they started the program in June). It has been half a year, and the kids still get so excited to see the teachers everyday. For mass drill, all the kids line up in the school

> yard and complete exercises. It was near 85 degrees, and some kids
> were wearing sweaters. After the drill, the kids go into their classrooms. I had the opportunity to observe some classes, and then I went off to Surat to meet my cousin. I had not seen my cousin in ten years. She now has two kids. I was so excited to meet them. We went to her village, Sarholi. She took me for a day of shopping in Surat. I only wanted to go to one store, so we went to Bombay Market and went to one store. Before I knew it, I was out of time to pick out jewelry for the saris. We dropped off my cousin, niece, and nephew and my dad took me to the Taj Gateway Hotel in Surat. This is where Joanne Yoong was staying. She is the VP of Programs. So we had dinner reservations at 8pm. We saw the Nanubhai people walking so I was dropped off. We all walked to the hotel. It was stunning. It felt like we were in America. We all had a buffet dinner. They had international food. I filled my plate, yet ate cautiously remembering that I was in India! The dinner was so much fun. I admire each of the fellows so much. Each of them brings such an open mind and warm heart to Nanubhai. They are building a foundation in India. In India!!! I heard so many funny stories. The fellows have the best stories from their experiences. I don't think I am liberty to share them, but trust me, they are so funny!!! I noticed all the girls had their nose pierced. I was tempted. Then they told me to youtube the word Kadod, and a video would appear of Kirsten and Lyndi getting their nose pierced. They said, if I did want to get it done, I could do it for a few rupees, and I should not watch the video lol.

So I left Mumbai and went to the Surat area in Gujarat.
On the way we saw a fresh accident.
It was so sad to see two lifeless bodies on the ground.
Traffic here is insane.
We drove through Navsari to get to our village Wadhvania.
I am staying with my grandparents.
My gran can’t stand that I don’t eat anything here.
I cannot.... I know I have a weak immune system.
Life in the village is so slow.
My grandparents are so old now.
Yet they are full of life.
We sit in silence sometimes on the swing chair.
It feels great.
Taking a bath here is hard.
They have a red light in the bath!
It’s like from back when we were growing up , those lights we thought
were cool...
Anyways it makes it modern, however you can’t see anything!
Warm water comes in the morning.
You pour water in a bucket and use a small bucket to rinse.
The only change in India I see so far is that the electricity stays current.
Nobody is running after generators.
I walked thru the village yesterday and sat at everyone’s home.
Many people are here to go to weddings.
Everyone thinks I should get married while I am here.
Especially b/c my other gran is coming soon.
Most people are saying it does not matter if the guy is educated.....
Interesting...
Anyways no worries I am not getting married lol.

So I have completed my time with Pratham. As you may recall, after my
first volunteer visit with Radha Krishna BMC School on Monday, we
changed course for my trip and made it more interactive and site visit
based. I thought I would enjoy this much more. Anamara facilitated
various site visits in Pratham Mumbai. Pratham is at all 1062 schools
in Mumbai. They have numerous programs that serve children. It has
been a wonderful experience. From meeting Pratham children, to
learning about the lives of the teachers within the schools, and then most
of all the empowerment of woman within communities where women are not
independent. Today I finished up by meeting with Anamara in Nariman
Point, where I was able to grasp further details on the structure and
inner workings of Pratham and the mobilization of its efforts. After
almost getting my camera confiscated yesterday in the landfill, I had
some serious questions of the government and government relations with
Pratham. I have learned so much about Pratham and how they have work
WITH the government that it continues to fuel this desire to spread
the work and tell everyone about the great things happening in the
field. Anamara and I concluded my visit with the specific information
I will need to bridge Delta Phi Omega with Pratham Mumbai. We will
work out the fine details when I get back to the states. My goal is to
make a grassroots approach to our philanthropy. Although in my week, I
learned that Pratham doesn't need anything physically demanding from
DPO, they just need our support and the continuation of our funding
allocations to their programs. I will work with DPO to set up
volunteer/ site visits, and also try to create a small program that
may benefit Pratham Mumbai. From those baby steps, we can then bridge
more cities Pratham supports around India. Overall, this was worth
it!!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay now I am off to take a journey to Surat, where I
will get to see Nanubhai Education Foundation's approach to rural education.

Today I was scheduled to go visit the child labor Pratham programs. For some reason, I confused that with Vocational Pratham programs in my mind. Although I kept hearing child labor, I continued to think about vocation programs. Boy was I in for a shock! I was on my way to a landfill!! We had hired a driver to take us out to Sanjay Nagar , Govandi. This is on the east side of Mumbai. As we set out on our day, we continued our morning ritual of going to the Hindu temple on the adjacent street to the hotel. At the temple we
prayed to deities for their blessings. On the way out we took holy water into our palm, sipped a very small amount, and quickly ran our hand over our heads leaving the water on our hair. We also took rock candy as prasad(food blessed by God). After the temple, we would go to the local street vendor and get a mini cup of chai. In India, the size of the chai is very small (the size of a fluoride cup). The chai costs about 25 rupees (apprx 50 cents). The chaiwala takes milk from a plastic pouch and pours it into a large caldron. The chai is very hot.

So back to Govandi. On the way there we learn about the life of our 'diver'. He has been driving the taxi since 1986. He said in all his life, he has only been to Govandi once. We took Highway 3 out to Govandi. It was a confusing ride. There was so much to see, and so much to hear. We also had to stop and ask for directions many times. In Mumbai, there are not many street signs. People associate places with things they see on the way, like the man who sells the pineapple. We saw a large landfill upon our arrival. The first thing my dad asks is if this is the landfill from the popular movie 'Slumdog Millionaire'. We are told that the landfill was in Bandra. This one is identical. We meet with the Pratham area coordinator, who I consider a social worker. Everyone in the community seemed to know her, and respect her. Pratham aspires to give women confidence to do good work for the community and bring income into their household. So as we enter the streets in the community, the taxi has trouble getting through the narrow gravel streets. The streets are full of very poor people. Some people don't have clothes. There is chaos everywhere. No one is groomed. There are small children holding babies. There are school age children roaming the streets. The streets smell of rotten odors. As we drive past an area full of garbage, there are many insects circling the bags, yet someone is rummaging through it. I was told, in hopes of finding food. The area looks primitive. The buildings are short one story connected like townhomes, and each looks like over 5 people live inside the dark interiors. We look like celebrities to these people. First, we have a taxi. I presume these people may have only seen a handful of taxis in their lives. Next, I have a camera. I am not sure if too many people understood the technology. At our first stop, the Pratham lady took us to a
small building where we went up some steep stairs to find a small class of students learning. These students are getting a supplement course in addition to going to a government school. They come before or after school. The students range in age. The teachers have completed school locally. Next, she takes us to the building next door. They pay 4000 rupees to rent each location (approx $100). The second teacher explained that outside of teaching all day, she does home visits with a fellow volunteer. Together they question parents and ask them why the child did not come to school. Pratham teachers are paid nominal salaries. This class is a supplement to the local BMC (government) school. The Govandi BMC school has no structure. Kids sit on the ground. Some areas have no roof. Next, we went to a class next to the 'dumping' (landfill). The students that come to this makeshift school have left dumping, or in
some cases the kids still go to the dumping prior to getting to school. These kids go into the Pratham program and each April to June Pratham works on enrolling them in the BMC school. The kids were interviewed about working in dumping. They would not speak. They must be camera shy or in denial. There were about 20 kids ranging in
age.

From there we walked out and onto the nearby dumping ground outskirts. There were children leaving carrying items from the dumping. There were more kids collecting. Some were playing. A few kids asked to take their photo. I took it without a flash and they were mad that I did not take a photo. Good observation. We continued to walk along the outside of the landfill and soon we could see the BMC office. They have an office onsite to review the weight of the incoming dump trucks. I could see kids in the landfill. I could see kids walking the area near the landfill, and this was during the school day. We also spotted Pratham kids, which they identify by their GlaxoSmithKline bookbags. The Pratham coordinator began to ask why they were not at school. As we walked back to the Pratham school site we were approached by an officer. He asked if we had been taking photos. The Pratham coordinator pleaded that we were not. Her colleague asked us to keep walking away. We left the Pratham
coordinator behind us. She is brave. She told them that we were there to teach at Pratham and were just walking as a 'time pass'. She was able to calm him down and he let her go. In those moments, my heart was beating fast. I realized that my camera was going to get taken away. I am so thankful we left unharmed. I was terrified. We quickly walked out and went back to the taxi. We took the car to another area. We passed mini cement trucks that were actually trucks built to move water. There were long lines at the trucks. People were carrying many jugs of water. Some people hung the water from their bike and walked the bike. I heard that people walk hours to get to the water truck. There is no water in Govandi. Somebody brings a
jug of water to Pratham locations. Each class gets a jug. This is used to drink water, use for the bathroom, and to wash hands. We approach a wide street where there is room to park the car without blocking. We enter a small open room in a small building. This was a Muslim class. This area is 90 % muslim. We were greeted with As-Salam Alaikum. There were 2 attendance books. One had 51 student
enrolled. The other book had 'khabi khabi' (sometimes) students. There were 28 students that sometimes come to class. All the kids had come out of dumping.

After visiting the class, we walk in between two buildings into what looks like an alley. Goats and dogs pass by. Babies walk around with no clothes. Kids play. A woman squats in her neon green sari over a covered metal pot on a fire made of wood. The ground is covered with garbage. The homes look like shacks. We get to the landfill. This is when the most fascinating facts were told. Kids go up and down digging for glass, plastic etc to sell to nearby vendors. The landfill is so large and deep that kids get buried. Everyday a new body is discovered. As BMC dump trucks come, kids get excited, and since the driver just spins and dumps, sometimes they run over the kids. The entire landfill is monitored by the government. There is a lot of corruption. Pratham works around it, and works with the government. They have a strong relationship. We watched a few people leave enter and leave the landfill. Several kids had school uniforms on. We saw two young kids carrying materials out on their heads, and their mother walked behind them, carrying nothing. These are the parents that don't understand the importance of education. The Pratham coordinator invited us to go into the landfill. I was excited. I know this sounds crazy, but it felt like an inside look at their life. As we entered, I noticed it did not smell. Normally you can smell a landfill from miles. I could not smell any foul odors. Looking down at the garbage, it was so mangled that I could make out what anything was. We walked over a little bridge of garbage. Basically one wrong move and you would fall into a ditch of garbage... Luckily I made it across. We walked up the hill into the landfill. We saw small
children picking up trash. In the distance I could see more kids with the school uniform on. We were told that people come from neighborhoods from miles away to collect and get money and go back home.

Today I had such a unique experience. I cannot believe life exists and continues each day in this old community. It was moving. It touched my heart. I am so proud of Pratham and how they are executing their mission on such a scale in a community that really needs hope. I continued to wonder who the role models were for these young children. Gandhi is a popular hero in India. Aside from Gandhi, I wonder if they have anyone they admire and what they desire to be when they grow up. From what I could see, the kids take life one day at a time. I know each of them has big things in store for them, especially with the aid of Pratham and now with the economy flourishing. I hope non governmental organizations come to provide healthcare aid to this Govandi community next. After spending days in landfills, the children are prone to various ailments, diseases, and toxic pollution.

Later into my trip, I will find this newspaper article on Tuesday, December 29th titled ‘Thirst For Water Leading to Polio’. The byline reads: Desperate Govandi residents dig illegal wells, drink water swarming with deadly polio and hepatitis viruses. Unbelievable!

Today I met with Bharti, an area coordinator for Pratham outside Khar station east in Mumbai. She walked me to a local school, where we observed the Read Mumbai Program. The class was adorable and consists of 17 students in 4th standard(9 year olds). I caught some of it on video. I was bummed out when I found out photo and video is not allowed in government schools. It was very difficult to take photos. Anyhow, the kids learn through a very unique program curriculum. It is taught for one hour each day for 4 months. Everything is monitored, such as the progress, attendance, dropout rates, class visitors (like myself), etc. The teaching approach sounds Montessori to me. (Incredibly accelerated ways to learn the alphabet, basic mnemonics, languages skills and more.) The second class I went to used group activities (games) to help students who don't understand. The class had 3 / 4 / 5 standard students. The class was divided into two groups: 1)Letter Level Group 2)Zero Level Group. The groups are tested in 4 levels: Story, Paragraph, Word Letter. The Read Mumbai program runs for 3 hours each day: 1.5 hours for language ; 1.5 hours for math. The kids were attentive. There was a downside for the kids that understand the material. They have to wait for the teacher to repeat the info and break it down for children who don't understand. This Read Mumbai class had a lot of publications, including stories like the wolf and crocodile, boy who whispered wolf, geography, science, etc.

Following that class, we jumped into an auto rickshaw and went down a few streets, dodging numerous other rickshaws, trucks, etc. We turned down a gully and there we were, at this large dark stone structure, they called a school. Some girls were playing catch with a ball in the school yard. We walked up some stairs, where I got my first glimpse at a balwadi! Balwadis are preschools that Pratham sets up to aid in building fine motor skills and language skills prior to entering primary school. The kids were 3 to 6 years old. They had so many different teaching materials, ranging from flash cards, to story books, to shapes, colors, and even the English alphabet. This was amazing stuff. I was very proud to see all of the materials present in such an old worn out building. Although the atmosphere was dark and gloomy, the kids were loud and bright and excited. I never crossed a frown in all of the schools I have visited yet. What a beautiful outlook on life for such a poor group of children. I am appalled. The 6 year olds develop language through songs/storytelling. They acquire physical development, ex. walking in a straight line. In the balwadi, Pratham is teaching the alphabet to 4 year olds in both Hindi and English!

Next, we visited the Little Darling School, where I learned more about the Scholarship program... which is where the government awards scholarship's to kids who score above 90 % and make the merit list on performance testing every spring. This scholarship class was 4th standard. Boys were on one side and girls were on the other. Each day they review for 45 minutes. Bharti explained that Pratham teachers are trained by Pratham area coordinators.

What a wonderful and fulfilling day!

Today I had the pleasure of going to Radha Krishna BMC School in Andheri East. I had an appointment to meet with a Pratham coordinator however she was a no-show and as a result the school set me up with Poonam, a Pratham volunteer teacher. Poonam is a very young lady who teaches a 4th standard Hindi class. After their Hindi arithmetic lesson, they started the Pratham Scholarship program(short accelerated English course - see video) It is a course that teaches accelerated English. It seemed like the children had a lot of fun participating. The kids stand up one by one and read each letter of an English object and the class chants with the kid. The demeanor of the school is very different than the west. Even though they wear uniforms, the kids are very loud, and crazy. They run around and talk loudly. The smart kids scream the answers prior to being called on. If a student is out of line, the teacher scolds them with a slap.

After visiting the Radha Krishna BMC School in Andheri East, I was invited to the Pratham office which is located in downtown Nariman Point. We made our way there on the local train which is a 30 minute ride at rush hour. Once you are on, you have to grab a handrail and sitting down is rare. There were crowds of people getting on and off. Many riders dangerously hang with one hand onto the side of the train when full. The train stops are very brief so you have to push your way towards the exit well in advance of your stop. Well, we could have bought first class, but we chose the true Bombay experience.

We got off at Church Gate. This is the 'posh' and high end location of Mumbai and location to many tall office buildings and luxury homes. We reached Pratham and were warmly greeted by Anamara, the young lady who organized my visit. We discussed several facets of Pratham, ranging from how it started, how funds are allocated, how Delta Phi Omega is making a difference, and mainly, how I can help coordinate additional sorority member involvement. Anamara was bright and truly passionate about the cause. When I asked her about her background, she mentioned that she has a bachelors in poly sci, and a masters in international relations from a school in
Europe. Her curiosity in education, social development, and infrastructure grew from living in South Africa and working with refugees. She then concluded that she was born and raised in Mumbai.

I was shocked. After my visiting the Pratham school, I was very surprised that there were people graduating and going onto college and abroad from Mumbai. This led to a new discussion. A few weeks ago, I had the honor of hearing Mr. Arvind Sanger speak at the NYC gala. He is the chairman of Pratham USA, and also a client of Morgan Stanley. Arvind captured a very candid view of Pratham's work, and the meaning of it to him. He had said he had never walked the slums of Mumbai in all the
years he had lived there. When he did a site visit, he compared the students and quality of schools to his American children's private school's parent/teacher days. He could see the zest of knowledge from the Pratham kids. He could tell they wanted to get every ounce of understanding they could from anything you tell them. In that moment, our table at the gala started questioning why there was such a mask to the upper class in India about the poverty levels effecting so many youth. Anamara gave me a similar response. She said the poor and the middle/upper class are two different worlds. The paths never cross. She said you hear things, and you see things, but your life moves past it. She mentioned, as an American like me, I come to India, and these images are real. They hurt. They cause immediate feelings of
sadness, and build a drive to help. For Anamara, she said they are bombarded with these images so often, they become immune to them. They see the same type of people walking the streets, kids begging for money, and at some point it doesn't faze them anymore. I could go on and on, but this I thought, was one of the most fascinating things I am trying to understand about social status and life in India. Even Anamara's position is a unique one. Some people believe in helping the less fortunate, while others you can imagine think it is the circle of life. I personally think, those who have chosen to work with NGOs, are doing a magnificent job, and it will contribute to the success of India's economy. We discussed numerous other topics and decided that my following days would be visits to schools where I can further observe and understand the programs rather than jumping in and teaching. I completely agreed, and was ready to challenge my beliefs, misconceptions, and conduct thorough due diligence to understand how funds are allocated.

During our decent over Bombay, although it was dark, I could see poverty through my window. It looked like rubble from the aftermath of a wind storm. I landed at 3:30 AM local time. I safely got through the green light line at immigration with no problem. I walked down the corridor with my luggage peering out of every window to see if I could recognize my dad among the hundreds in the waiting crowd. I could see people decked out in South Asian attire, ranging from saris to lehngas, some looked like they had been waiting for days, some people staring back at me, others were sizing me up and down, it started to feel like the game of where’s waldo and everyone was playing and then at last I saw my dad! He pointed to walk all the way down the
corridor to the opening. As I approached the exit, I saw about 6 men
dressed in the police uniform. It consists of a short sleeved
collared button up shirt in a dark shade of tan between khaki and
brown, and a hat. Beyond the policemen, was a large crowd yelling. I
saw my dad in the distance telling me to push through. The first
thing we did was go to the phone stand to call America. My dad was
with his Navsari High School buddy. We got a pre-paid cab and walked
to the parking lot. We could not find our taxi anywhere. Finally some
man came and said it was his car. He went to get it. As it
approached, I was wondering where the luggage would fit. The cab is
tiny. It looks like a miniature car compared to the cabs we have in the
states. There were no seat belts. The driver (pronounced 'diver'
with the Indian accent) loaded the two large suitcases into the
trunk, and left it open. He tied a rope several times through the
luggage, hood of the trunk, and the car. I got in, and hoped for the
best. As we exited, I could see how they had tried to give the
airport a modern look. There were food and drink stands for people
who were waiting. The building did not look like warehouse like it
once did. There was colored lighting to enhance the scenery. We had
to show our taxi ticket to the agent as we exited the airport. As we
drove, we passed several large hotels. They looked posh. We
continued onto the roadway, where I could see and feel that the roads
had been paved. That was the first sign of change. The roads did not
have bumps in the concrete or potholes. We had to continuously pull
over and ask how to get to the hotel. My dad had already checked in,
but he and his friend claimed that Mumbai looks very different in the
night. I could not understand. The streets were deserted. I saw
nobody walking outside. We eventually found the hotel. It was the
Patidar hotel. It is a hotel built by my caste Leuva Patidar. The
Leuva Patidar caste is from Surat district in Gujarat, India. As
members, you can stay at the hotel.

I stayed at the hotel ten years ago on my first trip to India. At the
time, the hotel was brand new. It had the amenities that a traveler
from abroad would need. Today, the hotel is affordable and clean. It
has the standard features you need to get a good night’s rest. We
slept through the night until morning. We woke up at 8am when my
dad's friend was leaving for Navsari by train to return to his family.
He had come along to keep my dad company and go to the Ganapat Hindu
Temple before my flight arrived. We woke up and got ready. The day
was spent getting acclimated to my hotel / neighborhood. There was so
much action in Mumbai. The sights/smells were intoxicating. The air is
so thick, sometimes I found myself wondering if I had taken a breath.
Life in Mumbai is so much faster paced than NYC during rush hour.
Yet, time here passes ever so slowly..... It is surprising. We took a
trip out to the famous Juhu Beach. This is not your idea of the beach
scene. At Juhu, there is not a single person wearing beach attire.
Everyone has their usual casual clothes on. There are kids flying
kites. Food stands, people selling peanuts, kids playing cricket, and
the sound of the waves of the Arabian sea. As we entered the beach,
beggars quickly approached. The child looked like he had yellow
eyes. It made me nervous. The kids were out begging reporting back
to their mother who was waiting nearby for money. The sand is dark,
hard, and I did not see any shells. I waded in the water fully
dressed. I went into as deep as my ankles... which I thought was brave
enough. Juhu is a family place. Also, there is a lineup of hotels
along its main road. My roommate when I worked at Merrill was from
Alabama and she had Indian boyfriend whose parents owned a Juhu hotel!

Aside from Juhu, we went to a few local markets in Ville Parle to look
for some clothes to wear. I quickly bought a few salwar kameez (
long top with pants and a shawl). At the market there were tiny
stalls full of beautiful handmade items. There were the clothes,
there was jewelry, and so much more. I also visited the watch store to
pick up a plastic watch for the trip. The streets between my hotel
and the markets are full of life. There are people of all ages, all
classes, and lots of vendors. There are four chai stands. There are a
few lahrees (street food) where they cook hot foods like pani puri, behl, samosas, etc.