a trip to the hospital

Another day of headaches, random aches and pains, coughing, runny nose, you name it. The three of us spent the morning looking up symptoms for malaria because we're all paranoid that we have it. By mid day, two of us were feeling much better but Jo unfortunately was not. She almost fainted in the morning but sat down in time to avoid it but after her mid-afternoon nap, she wasnt as lucky. We decided that it was time to take her to the hospital, because in addition to the fainting, she had developed a rash. Miriam went out to the main road to find a taxi that would take us because its a public holiday and everyone is celebrating all over Mumbai. All day long we've been hearing firecrackers exploding, drums, and people screaming "Ganapati Bappa Morya!" It's madness, I've never seen or heard anything like it. Anyway, so she found a man whose cousin brother (as he called him) is a taxi driver but set a fixed rate for our trip: 250 rupees. Given the unpredictability of the traffic, it seemed reasonable until the ride only took 15 minutes. If we had used the meter, it probably would have been 50 rupees. No big deal really. The hospital was beautiful, we went to Lilavati Hospital, where all of the celebrities and rich folk go for their healthcare needs. And, get this, there's a 20% surcharge for Foreign National and NRIs (Non Resident Indians). !! We were there for about an hour, the ER doctor was trying to admit Jo into the hospital, but we made a round of calls to a few friends who are doctors, their mothers who are also doctors, and Sherry (our dr. roommmate) and decided to head home. Jo is going to get checked out by Sherry's doctor friend tomorrow morning. The director of AVSAR met up with us at the hospital and thank goodness because the ER doctor wasnt making any sense. We kept asking if Jo could get her bloodwork done without being admitted and she kep saying something about the charges being double and inpatients getting preference to outpatients. I dont know. Imagine what it would be like at a government hospital. The doctor even said to us "Um, Can you afford the charges at this hospital? Its very expensive here. One of you should go over to our billing department and find out the cost."

The trip home from the hospital was quite the adventure. It took us almost two hours to get back. Truckloads of children were singing and dancing around us wherever we went. Locals were lined up on the medians just watching the traffic go by. Many of the roads were closed off because of the celebrations going on in the neighborhood.

the red light district

Since nothing much has been going over the past few days (due all of us still being sick) I've decided to highlight an important social topic in India: Red Light Districts in India.

Many of you may have heard of Sonagachi due to the movie "Born Into Brothels." Sonagachi is the name of the Red Light District in Calcutta. Due to the unionization of the sex workers in this region(aka the Sonagachi Project), condom use has increased from 7% to 90% resulting in only 10% of the workers being HIV+. That may sound like a lot to you but compared to the 60% HIV+ sex workers in Mumbai's Red Light district, 10% is a relatively low percentage. The Sonagachi Project has become a model for the rest of India to follow. Kamathipura, Mumbai's Red Light District, is India's poorest and biggest red light district. It has over 60,000 workers where many of the workers are young girls who have been kidnapped from their villages (or sold by their fathers/uncles for a lump sum). These girls are kept in houses where the madam makes sure that none of the money is kept by the young girl and the pimp arranges all business visits. So essentially, these girls are brought over from their villages (sometimes their families are told that they will be put into other jobs in the cities such as cleaning houses) and then are paid nothing because the madam and pimps keep all of the money. After the girls turn 15 or16 (and are not considered as desirable), they are thrown out of the houses onto the streets where they have to fend for themselves...

sick : (

I'm sick! So are two of my three roommates. We all stayed home from work today to rest. I slept for majority of the day though I was a little productive. I sent out a questionnaire to AVSAR alumni so I can get started on part of my project. We had our bi-weekly reflection session. Todays topic: Women and the spreading of HIV/AIDs. Did you know that there is medication that you can take while pregnant (if you have AIDs) so that your child's chance of being infected reduces to 5%? I had no idea.

my dad was right

My dad always tells me that Dhaka is not what I should think of when I think of Bangladesh because thats really not what the country is, or how most of the country lives. I always nodded along in agreement but I never really understood its true meaning until today. What I saw today was the real India and I was left with no words.

A potential American volunteer, a gujarati couple from the States, a woman from Niramaya, and I went to a baldwadi (pre-school camp) where we watched 3-5 year olds get there daily dose of vitamins and meds. They were so cute!! On our way out our van got stuck in a hole and had to be pushed out of the mud while everyone in the community came running over to watch. There's always something. Soon enough we headed over to the Baiganwaldi clinic where they treat the slum children from the area. It's a small room with a bit of open space and three desks. With the amount of children visiting every day (35-100), the space is definitely too small to accomodate these kids. After a few minutes, we walked over to a school where six boys individually told us their life stories. Most of them dont know where their parents are, are orphans, and work from 6 am to 11 pm each day. One child said that he makes 50 rupees a week while working 17 hours a day at a sweatshop. The owners barely feed the children, they give them a snack (a samosa) and some lentils and rice. All of that, just to earn a little over a dollar for the week. I felt so horrible while they were talking about their lives...the American medical student generated a lot of excitement as the kids get really happy to see a caucasian person. Then we walked over to a sweatshop but had to wait downstairs while our guide went up to tell them that we were coming. Apparently there have been a lot of raids and they are scared of the police. The steps to get up to the sweatshop were scary...after climbing them, what I saw made me feel awful. A bunch of young boys were lined up and attaching sequins to a sari, they do all of the work, and then we go out and buy these things that took hours and hours of child labor to make. It makes me never want to buy one of these outfits again.

We went to a dumping ground where little children are rag pickers and spend all day sorting through garbage piles. It's awful....I'll finish this post later. I saw way too much today to be able to process all of this right now...

a sense of purpose

I finally have a project! I'm going to work on updating Niramaya's and AVSAR's websites. Somehow, I ended up agreeing to both, but its cool because I know that it will keep me busy. I'm also going to attempt to create volunteer profiles too. Fun stuff! Tomorrow I'm going to go over one of the clinics in the slums with a potential volunteer from America who is a medical student. Not much to write today...had hindi tutoring for the first time, we've also decided to learn yoga from the same instructor starting on Friday.

its like ive lived here forever

Another Monday, just like it would be anywhere else. Headed off to work in the morning prepared with expectation that I might not have anything to do today since the doctor that I'm supposed to work with is at training. I'm currently reading Holy Cow: An Indian Adventure by Sarah Macdonald, a book that has the most ridiculous cover with Krishna wearing hot pink sunglasses (thats the main reason I didnt buy the book when I saw it in America, something about it offended me). Miriam brought the book and out of sheer boredom (and ok i admit i was a bit curious) I opened it up and have been completely fascinated with it since then. If you ever plan to move to India, definitely read this book. Work was just as I expected; I spent the day writing my gigantic journal entry, writing emails, and reading. And I left completely satisified with my day. Surprising.

As I waited for our second reflection session, I caught the end of the movie, Autumn in New York. Life is short, make the most of it. It also made me think that when you're not in a romantic relationship, its easy to forget the feeling of love and all of the illogical/irrational feelings that comes along with it. Random, I know. The reflection session was great because we all went around the table and shared our thoughts about our projects (or in my case, lack thereof). I came up with a back up plan for myself. If Niramaya can't find anything for me to do, then I can work for AVSAR by creating a marketing plan for them which would include updating the web site and finding other avenues for them to advertise through. I pitched my idea and they liked it. Volunteer profiles would be especially valuable so potential volunteers can relate to the experience. AVSAR tends to get a lot of medical volunteers so marketing all of the other non- medical volunteers would help to recruit people with a variety of skills. Tomorrow, we're going to speak with my contact at Niramaya to see if they have a project for me or if I should spent the rest of my time here with AVSAR. With a limited amount of time here, its in my best interest to be positive and proactive.

We went vegetable shopping in the rain because we're all sick of eating out and feeling unhealthy. Talk about getting ripped off, these veggie vendors really try to make the most of it when they see us. By now, they are beginning to recognize us so the prices are coming down but still, they attempt to rip us off because they really have nothing to lose if they say a high price and we agree. We asked how much an eggplant was and the answer was 24 rupees. At the stand next to us, a local woman bought one for 6. We ended paying 8. Fair enough. After thrity minutes of bargaining and walking away from countless stands, I didnt have the energy or patience to continue, so we went home with whatever we had managed to buy up to that point. For the first time in India, my patience is wearing thin. Deep breath. A good nights rest should do the trick.

an excellent weekend

Friday night - Indigo (rated one of top 5 restaurants in Mumbai)
Let me catch you up on last night. While making dinner we were getting a bit lazy and almost decided to stay in until we got a call from Vikram - the volunteer that had shown us around a few adys before. So after some excellent homemade dahl (lentil soup), we got dressed and tried to look nice for once. There's hardly any point in trying to get dolled up here because everything sweats right off and you end up looking like you havent showered in days within minutes of being outside. Not to mention the random drops of water and mud that attack you all over your body during your daily walks. Nonetheless, we put on makeup and jewelry and headed out in cab instead of the train since it was late evening.

The taxi drivers here are quite a riot, they agree to take you to wherever you want to go and act like they know where it is until you're almost there and they look at you for last minute directions. Always an adventure, always. After asking four different people on the street, we eventually found Indigo, a bar/restaurant which is located right behind the Taj hotel. Very uppity. Everyone in there was either from abroad, has lived abroad, or has loads and loads of money - Bombay's finest only. We found Vikram in the back laughing it up with a bunch of his friends. For the first time in India, I felt like a midget. At home, wherever I go, I almost always the shortest person around but there, since everyone is short, I feel average or sometimes I even feel tall! We spent a good couple of hours there and went home satisfied with our first nightlife experience in Mumbai.

Saturday - the best day in India so far
All of my roommates are working on their med school apps so they were all hurting because our internet was down. I spent the morning watching indian music videos and proofing my roommates personal statements. In the early afternoon we decided to venture out to Bandra West again for some shopping and to exchange money. The train ride over was a breeze, and to think that just less than a week ago I was in a state of shock about riding in the trains. Adjusting to the system didnt take that long, though I still dont enjoy the staring and random crassness of many of the train riders. Traveling with two caucasions tends to exacerbate the regularity of these occurences since they are obviously foreign and people here have certain misconceptions of them that they often like to test out. The poor girls get stopped in the street and people start taking pictures as if they are celebrities! Even if I get the regular Indian stare, which I can now easilty ignore, I dont get bothered as much since I am usually dressed in Indian clothes and look like everyone else.

It took us a good hour to find a place where we could exchange money - The House of Patels (some of you know what my first thought was after seeing that name!). They insisted that the rate that they were giving us what correct even if what was listed on the board was different (and more). After arguing and trying to figure out the logic behind the lower rate (they claimed that there was a fee for cashing in travelers cheques even if there was a sign saying that there were no cashing fees) we decided that there was nothing we could do about it since there was an obvious language barrier that they could have been taking advantage of. It's sad but we've been warned about getting ripped off so much that its become second nature to question the honesty of everything here. It's uncomfortable and frustrating to always be suspicious of all of the rickshaw walas, shopkeepers, and whoever else we meet on a random basis.

Next stop after almost being run over by some autorickshaws and harrassed by store owners on the street, was Globus - a western style department store with all fixed prices. The beauty of going to a store like this is that you know that you're getting ripped off but at least it wont be any more than anyone else and you are not being harrassed by people while you're looking at clothes (and is air conditioned). Oh the price we pay for peace and a temperature controlled shopping environment! Sherry had told us about a coffee shop in Bandra, so we all brought books and our journals with us in preparation for a nice, relaxing afternoon with lattes and comfortable chairs. And that is exactly what we got! Mocha - a westernized coffee and hookah bar - was amazing. Again, the scene was Mumbai's hippest socialites and foreigners. We spent over four hours eating countless desserts, sipping coffee from giant Friends-like coffee mugs, and ending the evening with a round of peach hookah. Though we were pretty spent after our day out, we headed over to meet up with the volunteers that we had previously met at the puja. They had been invited to a party in Santa Cruz (nope, not Cali but Mumbai) and invited us to join them. Again, after 15 minutes of circling the same street, we found the apartment.

Sherry suggested that we drive back through Dharavi, Asia's largest slum. It was such a contrast from the posh apartment that we had just spent the past few hours in. Within a mile from where the rich live, are the Dharavi slums, its miles of tin and concrete dwellings. And our apartment is quite close to this area and definitely lower middle class. The street leading out to the main road is all mud and broken rocks; there are slums right outside our window, and the whole street is full of vegetable and fruit vendors. The smells and sights of India are beyond imaginable unless you see them firsthand.

Sunday shopping: "special rate. just for you."

A slow morning full of numerous unsuccessful attempts to use the internet, more editing of essays, and good convos, Miriam and I trained it over to Bandra West; we seem to go there for everything since its the up-and-coming area of Mumbai. We were determined to check our email since it had been over 24 hours (can you tell that we're all obsessed with online access?). We stopped at a cyber cafe and waited for 40 minutes to use a terminal. While we waited, we realized what kind of people spend their time in these places. Young boys were sitting together chatting it up in inappropriate language and chatrooms, we were shocked at how openly this was being done. Two boys, who seemed to be brothers, were sitting together and the older one was introducing the younger one to a variety of sites that they are both too young to be looking at. Gross. And across the wall from them was a sign that listed the five different muslim prayers and what the consequences are for not doing each one. A few that I remember read "You will lose the glow in your face." and "You will lose the blessing from your income." Interesting.

After paying 10 rupees to sit in a disgusting and unclean cyber cafe, while everyone read our emails over our shoulders, we walked over to Shoppers Stop (another department store). I bought some books and cds, which somehow just seemed wrong because I feel like I should be buying things that I cant find in America, but oh well. I picked up A Fine Balance because Miriam has been raving about it and said that its a must-read. I'll report back on that after reading it. Next stop: Barista for a mango smoothie and chocolate chip muffin. We went over to the street market after indulging in american treats. The show began there. People were yelling out at us, we had a line of 6-10 people following us at any given time. Everything at these markets are goods that can be bargained for. So, these shopkeepers try to take full advantage of us because they know that they can and we dont know any better. For example, there was a bag that I wanted and when I asked for the price he said 650 rupees. I bought it for 180 but later found out that I could have gotten it for 100 just across the way because I bargained with the second guy just to see what he would go down to. It's all a big game. But yeah, 650? Isnt that crazy, and standing there, you'd be thinking "Oh thats great! It's only $15! I'd be paying at least 50 at urban outfitters or pier one." Ha. Little do we know that we can get away with paying only one to two dollars. Everywhere you go they say "Okay, i'll lower it. this is a special rate. just for you, special for you." So, in all good fun, we started saying it back to the shopkeepers before they had a chance to say it to us. They were on the floor laughing as we walked away.