Below are emails from Craig Beebe, student at Lewis & Clark College, who is spending a term in India. Enjoy!

Date: 9/4/2003 05:42:35 -0700
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu
Subject: Breathing in India
Hello to everyone,

It's been nearly a week since I set out, nervously and without a clue of what I was heading into; and now I find myself finally able to sit down and write an email about what I've been doing here in India. Of course, the fact that it's been ONLY a week seems strange, in light of all that I feel has happened--and I am aware as I write this that there is no way to adequately describe it or to make sense of it even in my own mind.

Delhi is like nothing I've seen...I keep trying to compare it to Portland, making comparisons of little places and things that remind me of home, but I always seem to fail miserably. It is a place where every corner is new and holds something unexpected...we've had various assignments to head out in small groups and cross major sections of the metropolis on foot and in scooter, and even planning our route on a map seems useless when we arrive at our destination--invariably the roads are more crowded, more hectic, and more exciting than they appear on paper; and I'm just as certain that I won't be able to describe them properly.

But a little about where we are, at least: the 15 of us are staying in a pretty nice apartment area, in a quite central location (though far enough from the center of town to be relatively peaceful...meaning we're usually able to walk about and to cross the street without having to get nearly hit by too many cars. It's a close walk to a market with any type of goods we could need--really as close as you seem to get to a shopping mall here, which means a sort of strip mall with some very upscale shops and some, well, not-so-nice ones. We're also no more than a mile away from some beautiful parks, interesting neighborhoods, and India Gate, which seems to be about as close as you can get to the Washington Monument or a similar place.

But we've been leaving our neighborhood quite a bit...in fact most days have been spent on explorations of the larger cities. I've visited and shopped in some of the most crowded bazaars I ever want to see--like the Saturday Market in Portland except filled with at least four times as many people, and one is constantly approached and having to ignore various hawkers selling goods for which I have no possible use but they sure do seem to think I could. We've walked along the center of the Raj government--Rajpath, connecting India Gate to the President's House. I've cut through the narrow alleys of Nizamuddin, a very old Muslim district, where throngs of men leaving their evening prayers pushed through corridors only a bit wider than a doorway, and goats nibbled outside restaurants where their kin were likely being eaten...We've visited the ruins of former cities of Delhi, and marvelled at the fallen grandeur and might of great sultans...and much more that I'm sure I will simply have to leave out for later, as I don't have the time or the words to describe every little experience and taste (the food is wonderful!), every face and small conversation, or the overwhelming power of a friendly smile from someone who doesn't speak your language, in the midst of confusion and chaos at seemingly every turn.

There is much I had heard and read about Delhi thathas turned out to be true, and much that I had not expected or even that I expected to be completely the opposite. I am still sorting out how I feel most of the time--whether I am simply fatigued or overwhelmed, excited or anxious. I am enjoying every moment I can go out, but am always happy to return to my room in the evenings to enjoy a cup of tea and even some homework reading (so peaceful an activity...)

It's hard to remember, in the midst of all I've seen, that Delhi is only one small part of this country, and there is a lot more that I will do before I leave here. We spent a day in Bangkok on our way, and there was enough newness there that I could have written pages on it, and Delhi has been that way every day so far...and to think of how many months opportunities I have before we leave, it boggles the mind--there is simply more to do and see than I will ever be capable of. Our plans take us away from here in a couple of weeks, to a farm north of the city, then to Varanasi, then to the south. Who knows what I will see then? To be honest, who knows what I'll see tomorrow?

Yesterday, when we visited Tughluqabad, our professor told us the story of the death of the ruler who built that grand city, now in ruins on the edge of the rapidly expanding metropolis. He was returning from a military campaign, and was planning a grand meeting of the city's nobles and clerics to celebrate his victory. There was one prominent shiekh, however, who never went to such assemblies, and with the risk of death for absenteeism, his disciples were concerned.

Finally, the ruler was within a day's ride of the city, and the cleric's disciples informed him worriedly that he had better go to the assembly or face death the following day. The cleric is said to have remarked: "Delhi is still far away," predicting that he had no reason to worry. Indeed, the sultan was killed that very day, in his temporary camp, when a parade of elephants caused his home to collapse on him. The cleric had no reason to worry...

..anyway the saying has come to be important still in India, as a reminder that we never really reach our destinations. I feel that way in Delhi, today, despite the fact that I'm in the middle of it. It is still far away--hidden beyond the strange languages and crowded, dirty streets. It can't be found by taking an auto rickshaw or by learning a few words in Hindi, or by bargaining and eventually getting ripped off for sandals (all of which I have done)...but I've caught glimpses of it in a smile or kind words from a stranger, or in the beautiful temples and mosques, or the way the sun glints off one of the modern yet dilapidated buildings in the center of the business district.

I can't qualify it in very concrete terms, nor do I ever think I'll be able to do so--but each moment I am challenged to redefine what I expected to find here, what I expected to discover within myself. I don't mean to sound too cheesy--and it's too early to make any life-changing statements--but each moment here has affected me to my core, playing with my sense of who I am, and where I come from; and what separates and what unites each of us as people in the world and on the same streets.

Anyway, with that, I unfortunately have to say goodbye, as my time in the computer place is running out (20 rupees bought me an hour but no more). I hope everyone is doing well, and I'm sorry for my inability to really make much sense with this rambling email, but if you want a picture of how crazy Delhi can be,let the nature of this email give you an idea. Take care and please update me on how each of you are doing...whatever you are doing. I'll try to stay in touch fairly regularly in the future.

Time's about up...I'll write again soon!

Namaste,
Craig
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Date: 9/14/2003 02:09:24 -0700
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu
Subject: More News from the Subcontinent
Hello to all,

I'm sorry it has been a while since my last email...I think I hinted at how busy I've been in that writing, and it seems to have only increased recently. Added to that the fact that I have to walk a little way to get to the cybercafe, and Delhi internet is very unreliable (the server is almost always down, it seems) and I hope you can accept my excuses.

It's weird--before coming I had just assumed that I would be able to write emails often, that I would send out a lot of postcards and such...and now that two weeks have already passed I realize I've been pretty negligent in that regard. Oh well, I guess it's not all that important.

Thanks to those of you who sent me nice updates about what's going on in your lives, whether back in Portland, or elsewhere. It's good to hear what's up, whatever that might be. School, work, whatever--it all seems really far away, and yet so familiar.

Familiarity--I must say that it's strange when I realize that even here, routines creep into life and insert themselves. Whether it's a certain restaurant we shop at, homework or journal writing, the breakfasts we eat, the time we get up and go to bed--we enter patterns. I'm seeing this both in my own organization of time here--the days seem to be speeding more quickly by as I get over the initial shock of arrival--and in the lives of those around me, whether other people in our group, or the residents of the city.

We've been out a lot, as a group--many visits to more sections of Delhi, and outside as well. In Delhi: last week we visited the Old City, the awesome fortifications of the Red Fort (Lal Qila), and the massive Jama-i-Masjid, the largest mosque in India. We rode on bicycle rickshaws, and passed through narrow alleys in the Old Delhi market--something of every type it seems, and we only saw a small part...spices, sugars, and silver...crowded streets and a distinctly "older" feel. We also visited the National Museum, for some lessons on ancient India, and had the opportunity for lectures from a variety of interesting folks on India's past and present.

Last Thursday we were able to leave the city for the first time, a wonderful getaway. We drove south, toFatehpur Sikri (another medieval Muslim capital), and Agra, home of this little-known monument called the Taj Mahal. :) Yes, I got "the" picture, yes it was amazing--but even more amazing was the sheer number of people there, from all over the world. It seemed like everyone was fascinated first by the structure, but I was really moved by how quickly that fascination changed to watching the other visitors--many requests to take pictures of other tourists from different countries, lots of small conversations and smiles. It seems sometimes like people are really more curious about each other than anything else, and I'm always interested when that takes central focus...and reassured, that there's nothing wrong with being fascinated by those who are different.

The trip also gave us the chance to see some of the Indian countryside, driving three hours through farms of sugar and millet, where people work by hand and little seems to have changed...other than the numerous gas stations, the colorful semis everywhere, and the seemingly endless resthouses and restaurants, plastered with Pepsi or Coke ads and advertising all sorts of food for the traveller. Actually I was amazed by how similar some of it looked to any rural area back in the States, right down to the water slide parks and McDonald's!

Of course, some things were very different--people walking bears alongside the road, sharing the highway with horses and people carrying pots and grain atop their heads, scorpions in our motel rooms (yes, seriously), and temples all along the road. But overall, the trip to the country was refreshing both because it was a break from the craziness of Delhi, and because it all seemed so familiar.

Anyway, we are now back here in the capital, for another few days. We leave Friday to go north for a little over a week-staying on a farm--then to Varanasi. There's a lot to finish in this week--I've got to finish my report on my "Delhi Friend", a 25 year old Catholic named Francis Peter, whom I met at a local shrine's feast day. Plus Hindi lessons, many lectures, field trips...I'll be busy!

Outside the monsoon is continuing far past its normal time...good thing I bought an umbrella this week! I've been hearing a little news from the U.S., but the local papers only seem to be interested in reporting on what celebrities are up to, rather than the California elections, the WTO meeting, and (alas) college football...sigh.

Anyway I hope everyone who receives this is well...please pass my hello on to others, and take care in your own lives. Send me updates, forgive my irregular emailing, and please know that I miss you all!

Hope to hear from you soon.

Namaste,
Craig

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Date: 9/14/2003 02:14:41 -0700
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu
Subject: Trip Website
Hey everyone,

One more thing--a good way to get some pictures and stuff of what we've been up to here in India, as well as more detailed ideas of where we've been, etc., is to visit the trip website:
http://www.lclark.edu/~india03.
Plus, you can get some other takes on what's been going on!

Take care,
Craig
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Date: 9/21/2003 06:28:18 -0700
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu
Subject: Writing from where the Beatles found the East
Hello all,

Signs from a curvy Uttaranchal mountain road, travelling up a canyon gorge above the Ganges: "Stay Alert. Stay Alive." "Why speed? Stop, Relax Proceed." "Speeders: Remember someone at home loves you." And my favorite: "Remember God."

Of course, when one is the passenger in a jeep being driven by someone else, these signs are somewhat useless--it is all based on trust. And as we sped around the curves this afternoon, swerving to avoid large colorful trucks, buses, and herds of cows (not to mention sadhus and wanderers) it took a lot of trust indeed. But the drivers here seem to have some sort of connection with the road, always aware of how wide it is, how much room it takes to pass...and when they screw up and almost kill us, it's always as though nothing happened. Fun!

But the site awaiting us up the road was well worth the harrowing nature of the ride: a cave shrine, where the sound of silence descended upon us and threatened to suffocate me with pure peace...yes, I said it was so peaceful it was threatening to crush me.

So anyway, I write to you all today from Rishikesh, in the foothills of the Himalayas, about 7 hours north of Delhi. We are here on a weekend break from our studies in Delhi, and the next segment of our trip, a week's stay at a seed farm near Dehra Dun, about 30 km from here. And what a wonderful place for a break. It's actually a pretty major pilgrimage site--though not for Hindus (that was Haridwar, where we stayed two nights ago, the place where the Ganges leaves the foothills and enters the Gangetic Plain. A marvelous place, too--we actually took a sunrise dip in the river with our hotel's owner, an energetic man who loved to talk about various tasks to improve one's digestion after meals.)

Anyway Rishikesh is a pilgrimage site for people (mainly Westerners) who want to study yoga and yogicsciences. All around, then, are Israelis, Brits, Americans, Germans, Italians, and a number of other different ethnicities; along with restaurants that seem to serve every cuisine of the world (spelled a variety of different ways, as well, of course.) Actually it's probably the least remarkable I've felt as a Westerner--but still there is a sort of timeless/geography-less quality to it all. Large ashrams and temples, jeeps coming through the city, a lot of languages being spoken all over the streets. And the people here are very friendly--from the storekeepers and restaurant owners who cater to the large influx of outsiders, to the outsiders themselves. This is one of the few places where we don't seem to play the "pretend you don't see the other Westerner" game.

So we have really enjoyed ourselves, as a group. And I've really appreciated the chance to relax amidst such beauty. We actually went whitewater rafting this morning--just a short trip, but falling out of the raft into the Ganges is an experience I know I will not forget (and luckily the water here is clean enough that the fact that I swallowed a bit won't also be something I can't forget!)

There is just so much to describe, and so much anticipation for the days ahead. It's wonderful to be away from Delhi, as we begin a more travel-intensive part of our trip. Tomorrow we move on, perhaps a bit reluctantly...but I think it's safe to say that everyone in the group will do so with a greater sense of refreshment and calm.

Not much more to add...I miss everyone and hope you are well, as usual. It's been nice to receive emails from you all, too...please keep them coming! I can't believe we've only been here three weeks now, but I'm excited that there is still so much left to do.

Namaste,
Craig

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Date: 10/2/2003 22:17:56 -0700
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu
Subject: N/A
Hello all,

I had written a very long email that I believed had encapsulated many of my thoughts on this crazy and holy place called Benaras, or Varanasi, or Kashi...and then the ever-unreliable power system cut out just as I was about to send it...trying as hard as I can to stay peaceful, I will attempt to write something similar but I'm afraid it will not match up.

This is a most intense place...endless activity, noise, and people everywhere. It is like a small town that extends forever--despite the fact that there are a million people here, and who knows how many visitors at any given time, the immediate reality is always bumpy roads, narrow galis (alleyways) full of shops, temples and shrines everywhere, piles of trash amidst the holiest of places. It is a city of extremes, sideby side...the most sacred and the dirty, the crowds and noise; and somehow, peace abounding.

We arrived here after a twenty-four hour train ride, from the quiet farm where we spent last week--our first moments of real calm in India, as we spent mornings doing yoga at sunrise, the days eating wonderful food, working in the fields, and learning about agriculture, biodiversity and development. Visiting villages, seeing the stars and hearing crickets, field trips to the foothills of the Himalayas for our first glimpse of snow-capped peaks...dips in a nearby river at sunset...true calm.

And then to be thrown into the great toss-up that is Benaras...the contrast so strong it wiped me off of my feet, astounded as I was by the return to a city and the strange newness of it all.

We are here at the simultaneous occurrence of two major festivals, and the city is lit up all night long, with each neighborhood holding its own celebration. One festival is a celebration of the Ramayana, the story of Ram, one of the central works of Hindu literature. There are performances in different places every night, parades, concerts--for one month. The other festival is called Durga Puja--and each neighborhood has set up elaborate temporary shrines to the Mother Goddess, where crowds congregate after sunset to pay a visit and show some devotion.

Really, though, it all feels like one big crazy party...a symbol of just how much people in Varanasi like to celebrate. This is the strangest distinction of all: the holiest of cities, but one that feels as though it never sleeps or rests, never takes the full time to completely sit and reflect quietly the way one would expect holy cities to be. Shrines are everywhere, as cows and rickshaws speed by on the bumpy roads. Beautifully designed buildings, so closely clustered along the narrow alleys that none can be fully appreciated in their own right...a mixture of what is ancient--craftsmanship, religion--with the pushes of modernity; and noise, dirt, and trash nearly everywhere.

But people move about through it all, clearly feeling in love with life and the city about them. There is a lot of pride in the importance of this place, and while at times I have wished I could get away from the bustle of it all, I have equally felt more welcome and excited by something deeper, some openness that I haven't quite seen elsewhere. Again and again, India presents new images to me, that I can't let go--in the places, yes, but most certainly in the people. Benaras is full of people doing all sorts of things, believing all sorts of things--there are many Muslims, Christians, Sikhs, and Buddhists here too, and I am coming to understand more and more that the thing we call "Hinduism" is not really one thing at all, but a complex myriad of belief that can never really be pinned down--but in the midst of it all they seem to accept each other and to be intent on sharing the very tight spaces that they have.

We only have a week here--not nearly enough time to even scratch the surface of what it is that makes this place so special--but I feel like a week is all I want, or need. Some things--indeed, nearly everything here--must remain constantly out of grasp. And as I wander the streets at night in wonder, watching the celebrations and the activity about me, appreciating what seems to be the only cool time of day, I am distinctly aware that I am only a very temporary observer of it all, incapable of knowing what it isthat both excites and pushes me away here.

We have done a lot of learning, too--mainly in religious areas, visiting Buddhist and Muslim universities, speaking with students and teachers on matters of religion and peace; but also enjoying museums and yoga lessons. The lessons are beginning to pile up...and with the constant desire to go out and "see" it's hard to stay on top of it all. But such is the nature of life on these trips--and I think I will appreciate things that much more when I am back to a place where I can breathe and relax a bit.

On Sunday we begin our first week of free travel, and I'll head south with some other group members, for some much needed relaxation on the beach in Goa and Kerala, visiting old churches and Portuguese settlements and enjoying fresh seafood. So maybe then I can let go a bit...

But for now Benaras continues its strange dance about me. Unsure of where to place my emotions in the midst of it all, I am continually thinking of what someone told our group before we came here: "Benaras is too much of everything." I once thought the same of New York, on that city's busy streets, where I had thought the traffic and the noise was bad. Now, here, I think I've found a good competitor. Yet despite the overwhelming crowds and busy life here, I feel like there's just enough of everything too...the kind of mixture of life, death, sacredness and chaos, celebration and solemnity--that the world seems to be in some strange harmony that might not exist anywhere else.

Anyway, I will have to end it here for now. I hope all is well for each of you...I miss you as always, and I sure do appreciate hearing back from you, too...even if I don't directly respond. Take care, and I'll write more someday soon.

Namaste,
Craig
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Date: 10/11/2003 03:28:43 -0700
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu
Subject: Catholics, Beaches, and Communists: Meeting the South
Hello all,

I write today from Fort Cochin, in Kerala, along the southwestern coast of India. The past week has been a free travel week, an escape from the rigorous schedule of our studies up north, but not a break from learning. For it seems everything is still new, fascinating in its own way; every time the scenery changes, even just in a walk down the street, I'm hit by sights both new and oddly familiar, and amazed by the completely different picture of India that I've been getting.

I left Varanasi on October 7, I believe...the last few days there busy as usual with more exhilirating festivals, wonderful music, large crowds, and a veryentertaining movie experience--people shouting and singing and dancing in the aisles at a very late showing of what I guess is actually a pretty boring film. Oh well, what was going on in the theater was more entertaining than what was on screen anyway.

I left a day early with four other members of our group, bound first for a one-night stayover in Delhi, before heading down to the former Portuguese state of Goa. It was strange to be back in Delhi for that one night--suddenly it seemed very orderly, compared to the chaos of festival Varanasi; though the pollution as we flew in was quite sickening. But there was a strange sense of being "home", almost...as we rode a rickshaw around to drop some things off at our original guesthouse, before catching our flight to Goa.

Goa--Goa. The first thing, getting off the plane (and plane service, by the way, is EXCELLENT in India...I've never had such a good "snack" on a flight, anywhere!), is the feel of ocean nearby. The feel of paradise, whatever that means. And then--our accomodations were at a place called Palolem Beach, about 70 km south of the airport, which called for an interesting taxi ride through the countryside. And the sights were completely different from anything I'd yet seen in India. For one thing, there were Catholic churches everywhere, replacing the usual Hindu shrines I've seen everywhere else. Some quite impressive cathedrals, and others just small shrines--but what was amazing was how they picked up little pieces of the Hindu culture (which is actually still the majority religion in Goa), with flower pooja necklaces around the white crosses and the figures of the Virgin Mary. And Hindus, too, had picked up pieces of Catholicism as well--I saw a couple of shrines that, along with the normal imagery of Ganesh and others, also were marked by the presence of a crucifix or two. It's amazing the way the religions have mixed, in Goa and elsewhere, temples and churches (and people) side by side.

Also interesting about the ride, tucked into the villages amidst palms and rolling hills of green: the businesses carrying names like "Virgin Mary Auto Repair" or "Infant Jesus Provisions Store." And Portuguese-style buildings, becoming more traditional as we headed south away from the city...it was an almost surreal experience, at times, to be seeing such amixture.

Speaking of surreal, though, I can hardly express how it felt to arrive at the quiet beach where we were staying. Much of Goa has apparently been overrun by tourists--but we luckily beat the rush by a couple of weeks. Tourism is very important to Goa, though, so it was interesting the way we were treated as the forerunners of the new season. Our accomodations were treehouses at a really beautiful and secluded place called the Cozy Nook, right on the beach. Getting up in the morning, walking along the water, swimming, playing with the random packs of friendly dogs roaming about everywhere...eating lovely seafood, freshly caught (and watching it being caught)...I can honestly say that I really did what I needed to do, and that was take a good break from everything.

And yet, the learning itch doesn't go away, and I found I was still a student above all, trying to find out stories about who visited the area and why, their impact on the economy, and the nature of daily life. I also couldn't hold off from visiting Old Goa--the old Portuguese capital--on my last day, which is now nothing more than a collection of very impressive Catholic cathedrals, one of which holds the remains(supposedly still perfect) of St. Francis Xavier. Kind of morbid, but still a really interesting place--though I was more interested in the people who were also visiting than in the sites themselves, to be honest.

We took the bus to go that day, a three-hour ride, packed but a lot of fun...trying to figure out the schedule (we had to transfer a few times) and hoping we'd make it to the train station on time, so that we could come down to Kerala, which we did yesterday.

So, three nights and days acting like beach bums a bit, and then we took off on an overnight train to Cochin, from Margao station. We travelled third-tier non A/C, which means basically three pads to sleep on and little else. Quite a way to travel--our fan didn't work so we left the window open all night, and I slept under a full moon passing through beautiful hills and tunnels, hearing the clicks of the track beneath the train. Actually a lot more fun than the nicer A/C class that we had taken to get to Varanasi. We also met some wonderful people, which seems to be the norm during travel here.

Arriving in Cochi, yesterday, I was again amazed by the ordiliness and pleasant nature of the city, compared to the packed streets up north. Everything down here feels much more European, really--right down to canals in the cities, and chips served on menus. But still things are all their own, for Cochi is an amazing mix again of ornate churches, temples, mosques and even a Jewish population, all side by side along streets that feel almost as if the British just left yesterday. It's also a place where the red and black flags of the Communist Party wave freely (they have been elected here a few times, and have done quite a lot for the people--Kerala is the only state with 100% literacy, and everyone has been given their own piece of land and a loan to build a home on it), right next to the orange and green of the Congress Party.

People here seem even more curious to find out what country we are from--whether they are tourists like us or locals...and when we tell them they are always surprised to meet Americans. It seems more people are from Israel, Germany, Britain...but not America. An interesting thing to notice, I think.

But anyway Cochi is a bustling place, an important naval center and shipyard. We are actually staying in Fort Cochin, which is a short ferry ride across the bay. A very quiet place, almost "too" quiet for everything else I've seen (the beach excluded). Chinese fishing nets along the water, fresh roasted cashews, and a lot of seafood...as you can guess, I am happy here. Today a few of us went out for a three-hour boat ride on the backwaters about 30 km inland, caught an interesting peek at villages making coconut rope, and I drank directly from a coconut for the first time.

We leave here tomorrow, to head up to Bangalore for the next few weeks, getting back into full student mode. It will be tough I think--it feels like we've been on a little vacation for a long time now--but maybe a bit nice to get settled for a bit once again. So far this free travel has given me the opportunity to travel by almost every means possible: air, train, bus, auto, rickshaw, and even boat...altogether I feel a lot more confident about my ability to do so in the future, which is a big step for me. I had been kind of nervous about being "let loose", but what i've realized is that people everywhere are so helpful andfriendly, I've never felt lost or overwhelmed. If anything I've been too welcomed, sometimes; unable to drift into things as I'd sometimes hope I could do. Still, things have worked so well that I'm almost waiting for something bad to happen...knock on wood, please...

So it's time to finish this and go back out into the hot afternoon. I hope this finds all who read it in good health and spirits, as autumn continues wherever you are and whatever you are doing. Tomorrow is six weeks for me here...so long that I feel like it's been forever but not so long that I don't still think of you all nearly all the time. THanks for the kind words you've sent to me, and once again please keep sending me updates. I love to hear from you.

Take care, all.
Craig
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Date: 10/16/2003 22:43:56 -0700
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu
Subject: Hi-tech in Bangalore
Hello there,

I'm sitting here listening to a massive amount of noise coming from the streets outside--not the usual sounds of traffic and honking so much--that's of course there, but it's masked this morning by the sounds of multiple speakers sounding constant campaign slogans and yells for a number of different political parties, the colorful flags of which are blanketing the streets outside. It's election time in Bangalore--this Sunday--and apparently today is the final day that campaigning is allowed, so it's quite intense. Actually it's been near constant the past couple of days, my first impression upon arriving here in this cosmopolitan and almost eerily Western city of Bangalore.

Bangalore, the Silicon Valley of India, we are constantly reminded--home to seemingly countless technology companies, call centers, and factory outlet stores. Our first supermarkets, and regular shopping malls. Busy roads, constantly being developed, the city spreading quickly into the surrounding countryside, as a drive along the Ring Road exhibits hotels, villas, and more technology centers popping up everywhere. Bangalore is a place where you have to toss out whatever notions of "traditional India" that you might have, or at least look harder if you want to find them. It is a place where one cannot deny that India is more than we in the West sometimes let it be--it is a place that demands to be a player in some global community, in technological development, and it is a place that in all certainty has already shown its potential to do so.

It is, oddly, a place of culture shock, because things seem so familiar. We are staying kind of far out in the suburbs, and our neighborhood (once a separate city favored as a country retreat by the Raj) almost looks and feels like California. It's pleasant, but strange...certainly not what I expected to find anywhere in India. I just read yesterday that a new store, Family Mart, will be opening soon--sounds like a carbon copy of Wal Mart SuperCenters back home. And a visit yesterday to a couple of technology companies--though interesting to hear about their presence here--felt like it could be anywhere in theworld.

But there is peace as well as tradition here, too, and it's interesting to see how both meet. (Not that I equate tradition with peace, for tradition is quite often chaotic, as I've seen. I mean to say that they both exist, in varying degrees and sometimes simultaneously.

We visited an ashram called Fireflies the other day, in the hills southwest of town. A wonderful and peaceful place, out in farms and forests of palms. Talked about the importance of recognizing interdependence, with each other and the earth. Fighting intolerance, working for more connection within so that we can work for equality without. It was a very beautiful visit, and I hope to go back...

...and each morning I go walking and listen to the sounds of our neighborhood awaking. We are staying at an Ecumenical Christian Centre, a nice and quite campus, although in India you can always hear something in the distance. But the campus is nice--we're sharing it with a group from another American university, St. Olaf's in Minnesota--with a real library, so I can feel like a student again. Strange how peaceful that is.

But then any visit to the city reminds me of the constancy and craziness of change. We've been in a couple of times now, and it is such an interesting and dramatic difference. But there is a real challenge here, I believe: balancing the constant, and perhaps even very sudden, effects of change with the very important things that need to be preserved. Bangalore can be both comforting and disturbing--I am comforted by what seems familiar and disturbed by what may also come along with these changing times. It's a little early to say--I've only been here a few days now--but I truly hope that people here can avoid some of the nastier aspects of Western materialism which I think I've beginning to view with more disdain.

But the things I can do immediately are really very minimal, and for now I gladly take on the role of observer. We have a busy schedule here--and as the semester's end comes suddenly closer I realize I have a lot of work left to do. This weekend is our first homestay, and there are many lectures and field trips in the weeks to come. I'll stay in touch, though, and hopefully get some of my thoughts a little more coherent for next time.

I hope all is well back home, and thanks to everyone who's sent emails. I want to let you all know that you can also see a bunch of pictures and do some reading by people in our group at our website: http://www.lclark.edu/~india03
There's some nice pics of yours truly there, as well--note the one with the flower!

Stay well, wherever you are. Keep working at whatever you are doing. And keep your eyes open for new things everywhere--because newness is indeed everywhere.

Namaste,
Craig
************************
Date: 10/25/2003 02:41:29 -0700
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu
Subject: Firecrackers and Lights, Home Stays and Holy Men
Hi there,

Happy Diwali! The Hindu New Year (also known as theFestival of Lights) is in full swing and the people of Bangalore seem intent on making that known...firecrackers started going off yesterday afternoon, and haven't really stopped yet. The businesses are all open extra time (it's also the biggest gift-giving season here) and the town's pretty lit up at night, candles and lights strung all around. We actually haven't had a chance to see what it's like in the middle of the city, but our group's got a reservation at a nice restaurant downtown tonight, so we'll get to see the action right from downtown. Pretty exciting stuff. Last night we had a mini-celebration at the place we are staying, complete with oil lamp races, bonfire, and (oddly) an Indian Christian youth group singing songs and dancing (yes, we were celebrating a Hindu holiday at a Christian center, but then again, who doesn't enjoy a good party?)

Life's been busy, as usual here...though today is a nice day off. Last weekend we were able to have our first real home stays, if only for a couple of nights. Everyone got split up--most of us went to fairly middle class families, though a few got to see what life was like for wealthy Indians (pretty nice, apparently).

My family--the Ravis--consisted of a father and mother (both bank workers), and two boys aged 5 and 10. It was a great weekend, primarily because they reminded me so much of any family with two little boys...trying to get them dressed so we could go out, attending festivals and concerts at their school and church. They are Christians (though interestingly the mother was Hindu before she met the father, at the bank--a very untraditional wedding as you might imagine), and their children go to a very fine private school here. Actually I swear they all spoke better English than I do.

It seemed that the family was living much more modestly than they might have to, in order to afford the education for the boys. I really admire that, and it seems to be fairly common for people here: many sacrifices are made for one's family, especially when it comes to educating children. My host parents were really very open people, very well-read, and very interesting...and it is so lovely to feel like I have a "family" of sorts here in Bangalore...actually they have invited me back, so tonight I'll be staying with them again, and celebrating Diwali tomorrow with the mother's family (they still do it the old way at her house.)

After a few days of living with them, we all returned back to our main home, before heading off the next day to stay at the farm of the Young India Project, a rural NGO that works to unionize working class people in the countryside of Andhara Pradesh, a very poor state about 3 hours north of here. Such a fascinating system they have developed--they've been doing it for about 20 years now--a way of bringing people out of desperation, discrimination, and ignorance, through bringing them together to demand attention from a government and system that would just as easily ignorethem. They've also set up women's collective banks, in which members pool their money together to then loan out to each other for various things. The founder and his wife were wonderful hosts for us (actually their daughter attended L.C.), and really we just enjoyed each other's company as well as learning about this whole different model of how development can be carried out.

It's easy to get depressed about modernization and the effects it can have on traditional cultures and people, especially the fact that so many people can get left out. So when you see groups that are working for new ways of fighting these problems, while at the same time trying to work with the benefits of changing times, it is quite encouraging. We met with some of the members, and you could see that their lives had really been affected by the things the Project had done for them.

Also on the trip, we happened to be near the ashram of Satya Sai Baba, who has created quite a worldwide stir as a holy man, healer, etc...millions of devotees, apparently. His ashram had, through the many pilgrims constantly coming, turned a little village in the middle of nowhere, into what is probably one of the strangest places on Earth. Huge pink blue and yellow temples, signs in every language with motivational messages sounding vaguely like Jack Handy's Deep Thoughts, people from seemingly every corner of the world dressed in white and smiling perhaps a little too much. Sai Baba's message is a good one--God is love, so we should simply love all--but I must honestly say that I cannot understand why one would want to travel so far (or pay so much) to venerate a guy who says something so simple. Maybe we are really missing something from our lives if we can't figure some of these things out for ourselves...maybe Sai Baba (though he is supposed to do miracles, too) is really on to something.

I'm never sure...it's so easy to be cynical, and yet I know that his words really are important to a lot of people. We attended a little service of sorts at his place--about 2000 people gathered to sit, and really just watch as he came into the open air compound (chandaliers, marble floors, tight security) in a little red Honda of all things...got guided to his chair (he's pretty old now I guess, been up to this for some time--his afro [yes he does have a thick black afro] is falling over his head a bit)...and sat staring back at everyone while some people chanted for a long time. Everyone there seemed to think it was really great--except maybe the others who, like us, were just curious; and it's always hard at such things to tell who's a devotee and who's just confused by it all.

The next day we actually visited the ashram of a new Swami--declares himself to be a healer as well, but he's only been at it for a few years, and his ashram is only half finished. We surprised him with our visit, and he came out of a side room sipping a Coke, avoided our questions (he was in a hurry to get somewhere, apparently) and sped off in a nice Mercedes. Luckily some woman from California, who was the manager of his ashram, was able to explain to us a little about him...but it seems the same story, more or less. Either way, he's setting up a school in the middle of nowhere, building a brand new ashram in the midst of another temple complex that's over 600 years old, and a village that couldn't seem to care less about the foreign pilgrims that are suddenly present within its walls. Strange stuff, to be sure.

Strange stuff--sounds like a lot of things, until you realize how important it is to people. This is a real issue for me right now...something I'll have to workon for a bit. Anyway we returned to Bangalore yesterday...a train journey back down through fascinating rocky countryside, a place that oddly felt simultaneously like central Washington and the Moon. It has been raining quite a bit lately--apparently the monsoon hangs on quite a while here, so we have all been doing a lot of reminiscing about the weather back in Portland. Our program is now over half-done--crazy--and it feels like the days are slipping by even more quickly than ever...whether that is good or bad, it just seems that way.

I'm thinking of you all, and wish you the happiest of Diwalis, whatever that means for you. I'll keep in touch, thanks to those who've sent me some words, as always.

Keep your eyes open--something exciting is probably
around the corner.

Until next time, take care everyone.

Craig
*********************************

Date: 11/6/2003 22:38:46 -0800
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu

Subject: Escape to Chennai

Hello everyone,

It was about four AM when we stumbled out of bed, threw our things together, and jumped into a taxi from our place in Bangalore. Heading to the train station, through misty and mysteriously empty Bangalore streets, as our driver blasted bad Euro-techno that I thought I had escaped in high school (guess he needed something to stay awake, too). Getting to the train station, collapsing into the seat in our cavernous car which quickly filled to capacity...being aware one moment of darkness then suddenly that day had come and we were on our way...to Chennai (also known as Madras) on the east coast of India. A six hour train ride brought us to a grand, full railway station clearly built by the British (and proudly at that)--the heat of this city already intense, and the smell even stronger.

So it's been a few whirlwind days here, then--just six of us on a short side trip from Bangalore. Madras was one of the four major British centers in India and it retains a very British, yet sharply South Indian feel (i.e., the food is deliciously local...dosas and idlis and lunches served on large banana leaves...and most people speaking Tamil, a lot less English than Bangalore.) But it is a massive city: heavy traffic, giant billboards, more neon than I've seen anywhere else, and a large shipping port. Spent the days going about, visiting some interesting sites and working on my project (the city is also home to two sites related to St. Thomas the Apostle, the supposed founder of Christianity in India--he was martyred and buried here). There is clearly too much to see and do here in just two days, really--and of course my energy has its limits...

But a run through: the first night we visited a really wonderful bookstore (there are so many in the south, for some reason), then one of my travelling companions got in touch with a contact whom we visited at home (again the hospitality of strangers excites and surprises, again it is most welcome, as we are made to feel the same)...

The next morning we walked to the beach, where I put my feet in the Bay of Bengal, so now I guess I've touched the ocean on both sides of the subcontinent. We walked along the shore, which I must say is very different from the peaceful paradise I saw in Goa. Here the beach was covered with people, and slums had come up along the boardwalk built back in the day by the British. It didn't seem a tourist destination so much as a place you'd want to hurry through, unless (like us) you're particularly curious about people and the ways they live their lives. And I must say that despite the crowds, the smells (the immediate water area is also the toilet, it seems), and the feeling of the city right next to you--the ocean still gave that strange sense of peace, that heavy happiness that always hits me on any coast. A completely insignificant yet empowering feeling, a desparation that combines itself with deep contentment. Perhaps I am not describing it well, but as we passed fishermen and deteriorating structures under the grey sky (it is actually monsoon season here now) I felt very peaceful and happy to be where I was.

I don't want to bore you all too much with the things I did here, so I'll make a real quick rundown: visited the San Thome Cathedral near the water, the site of the tomb of St. Thomas, now unfortunately under construction so really not too wonderful at the time...then we attempted to visit a film studio that apparently closed two years ago (as we discovered when we arrived, to the concern of some guards at another place, who tried to help us find other things to do.)

But we had an appointment to meet with a man at the Theosophical Society Headquarters at two, so we went there next--an interesting Society--a huge green 250-acre campus (also home to the world's largest banyan tree), and a very noble philosophy of recognizing brotherhood, studying religion and philosophy, and "understanding the latent powers in man" (that last one kind of weird, I know...but I appreciated the sign in the main building: "THERE IS NO RELIGION HIGHER THAN TRUTH.") For all the misgivings and confusion about the Society, it seems that at least they have a noble beginning with that statement.

Later, in the evening, we went to a moviehouse to see a little known Hindi movie...okay okay we actually saw the new Matrix movie, which surprisingly premiered here at the same time. I say surprisingly but once we got there we realized just how popular the series is here...an absolutely packed (and absolutely huge) theater...people cheering and shouting at all the good fight scenes, and laughing at some of the cheesier moments...(Indian men don't seem to be too interested in love talk, I guess--but then neither was I.)

This morning I awoke at 5:30, stumbled out of our hotel along streets wet with fresh rain and past sleeping rickshaw drivers...I went up to the Mount Thomas Church, his martyrdom site, on a very large hill south of the city. A wonderfully peaceful visit, a beautiful view--and a nice visit with a local priest who fed me breakfast and talked about a variety of subjects...and again hospitality hits me hard and deeply.

Actually a lot of things have been hitting me like that lately, as I enter my last six weeks here. It was like I was used to being in India for a bit, and suddenly I am realizing it all over again. For example, a nine-hour bus trip earlier this week to visit ruins at Hampi in North Karnataka (I'm not even going to begin going into that trip, though it was pretty amazing, if a bit long)--although the travelling was slow because of a massive highway project (and they are slower here than in the States, believe it or not), I was still amazed the entire time that though I was stuck on a bus, I was stuck on a bus HERE--passing villages and banana and coconut and ragi; female highway workers wearing saris and carrying sand and cement on their heads; huge granite outcroppings dramatically rising from the flat plateau, sometimes with a small temple at the pinnacle; highway stops for fresh lime sodas and snacks. Call it what you want--looking on the bright side, or trying desparately to put up with long travelling distances (and I feel almost like I've been constantly on the go lately)--but the feeling of wonder has been giving me excitement and simultaneously wiping me out nearly constantly as of late.

So today we return on a train to Bangalore, and tomorrow morning head out again (surprise!) to Mysore, though this time with the rest of the group. I'll have more to share after that, I'm sure. For now it's a matter of trying not to focus too much on how few days we have left, and attempting to get the most out of them now. (And yet, in doing so I fear that I'm not going to soak it all in enough, so I try quite hard to record as much as I can...however limited that will be...)

I wish I could bring you all here and show you what I've seen, or at least describe it in a way that would be even half-satisfactory. Looking through my own emails I still feel so limited in my descriptions, especially of the emotions I feel and the growth I think I am having. There are still things that don't change, but I think one of the biggest changes for me, and the hardest to accept, has been realizing that fact--and either way I cannot describe the new things adequately to begin with.

Anyway, enough rambling...the hour passes and I'm drawn to the street. Only a few hours left before our train departs once again, and on I go. I've absolutely loved hearing from each of you when you've sent word--thank you for the reminders of home, and for the strength they've given me when I've been a bit overwhelmed.

Hope you are all well...the time is coming shortly when we can meet again. Take care.

Craig

************************

Date: 11/11/2003 21:31:45 -0800
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu
Subject: Getting out of Bangalore

Hello all,

It hasn't been that long since I last emailed, but I thought I'd just write a quick one now since I'll be leaving Bangalore for free travel soon and I may not get a chance for a while.

The day after leaving Chennai, we headed out as a group on our last real big trip as one group, to Mysore, about three hours south of here. It's known as the City of Palaces, and indeed it has many, though most have now been converted into hotels, it seems (hey that's probably a better way to make the most of them anyway). Actually Mysore was the capital of one of the independent princely kingdoms of India before independence from Britain, so it never knew outright foreign rule (although the British more or less ruled it anyway, through puppet governments and the like.) It was beautiful, however--wonderful trees throughout the city, huge palaces as I said, hills surrounding it all. It's really amazing how many palaces the Maharaja had--one of them, which is now a hotel where we were lucky enough to eat lunch one day, was his palace solely for the purpose of parties at which he ate meat and/or alcohol--they would actually load everyone up and go 6 km to hold such parties, away from the primary residence, which is now a museum.

All in all, it has been crazy lately--a lot of travelling, so I'm glad that for the next couple of days I get to relax a bit. Most of our group actually left a bit early to go on their final free travel adventures, but I'm not leaving Bangalore until the 14th. I'm very excited, though--I'm going to a wildlife reserve for a camp/workshop with about 40 Indian undergraduate students from all over the country. The workshop is about perceptions of different people, as well as environmental protection--and though it is not the usual free travel type of activity I am sure I will learn a lot...and
the forest looks beautiful. I think it will be good for me to get some fresh air, to spend some time without the rest of the group, and I always enjoy meeting people from many different backgrounds. I have no real idea what I might learn, but I will certainly share with you all after it is over.

On the 20th I'll travel up to Amritsar, near the Pakistani border, for a few days. It's home to the Sikh's Golden Temple, as well as a good deal of history related to the Independence struggle. That will of course be a little more of a "tourist" visit--but then again, we all need a bit of that sometime.

As the trip comes to a close I am more and more aware of the things I haven't been able to see, and it's hard sometimes to deal with that, especially as I hear the plans of others in our group, who are going camel riding in Rajasthan, or to weddings in Delhi, or paying visits to Buddhist sites in the north. This is just such a big country--and there is so much to see, sometimes I wish I could just forget about all the things that are beyond my grasp, beyond the time, energy, and resources that I have... ...and at the same time, that is such a beautiful thing--that there is so much I will never see and never experience. Even in the places I do travel, the villages we drive or train through, the cities we stay and study in--so much lies just out of reach, just beyond what my eyes will see or my ears will hear. Sometimes when you travel it's easy to see things as some sort of "show" being put on for you as an audience. Lately I think I've been realizing that such an idea couldn't be farther from the truth, and this realization--that I am not the center and that really I am quite insignificant here--has actually been a quite liberating experience. It has cleared me up to develop closer relationships with people right around me, whether in our group or in places that we go. And it is a reminder of just how large life really is--and what a realization to make.

We pass through unnoticed sometimes, catching snapshots and little bits of life; but there is so much we cannot know about others and their lives and feelings--perhaps this is a motivation to seek more within, realizing that although we are different each of us has quite a lot inside. And after we learn to recognize ourselves a bit better, then I think we can understand others that much better as well.

Sometimes lately I have been quite overwhelmed by it all--in a way that I hadn't felt for a while. I know that I'm sad that the end is coming so soon...yet I think already I will return home with a renewed sense of understanding about the importance of looking more within, and of recognizing that what we see is only a brief snapshot of something impossibly large and complex: and what a wonderful reality that is.

Anyway, I had better be going...we are actually doing something very exciting today--a cricket match here in Bangalore! Australia vs. India...and the locals take it very seriously, if one is to judge by the newspapers and by the fact that we have to arrive like three hours early to get in. I don't think I'll stay for the whole thing--it's a nine-hour game (which is really a short version), but I'm excited more for the glimpse of culture than for the action on the field. Luckily we do have a "translator" coming along to explain things--but these are valuable tickets so I can't pass up the opportunity.

I am thinking of you all and wish you the best. There are many more things I wish I could say, but I'm sure you understand--there are so many words that we always leave out, having to rely on what we can see or hear to try to expand our wonder at what's beyond.

Take care,
Craig

***********************

Date: 11/22/2003 08:40:25 -0800
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu
Subject: Green Forests and Golden Temples

Dear all,

How to describe the diversity of experience I've been having over the past week or so--all of it so unexpected, so surreal...I know as usual I will fall short of describing any of it, but when I think of the things I was expecting when I came to India, and then look at what I've done in the past few days alone, I am amazed at the surprises that have hit me.

First things first--from the 14th to the 19th I had an experience of attending a workshop for Indian undergraduate students in a wildlife preserve in the South...50-60 students from all over India, students my age and full of passion about life, learning and making a difference in India. Students curious about each other (most had never travelled around the country), the forest itself, and about themselves. A group of students, I realized, that would be similar to any such gathering in the United States. And here I was, in the middle of it all...just another participant it seemed, just as excited to meet new people who had as much enthusiasm to meet me. I wasn't the center of it all, as I had expected--though I was the first American most had met, I found myself fitting in, making friends and learning a great deal.

And at the end of the four days--having a whole list of new friends in India, and missing people in a way that again I never thought would be possible. So many moments I spent with these other students--singing both Hindi and American songs, enjoying meals together, trekking through the woods, just sitting around and talking late into the night. It was an experience I must say that I was lucky to have--and it gives me some ideas for something I might like to do in the future should I come back. Just watching these students, learning about themselves and each other; and having the opportunity to learn and to teach from them myself...in such a setting, quiet and peaceful. Four or five days that I will never forget.

Then, fast forward through a couple of days--a train ride, one last night with my host family in Bangalore (more sad goodbyes, unfortunately), a flight to Delhi, then another train--and 10:45 PM on the 20th I am far north, shivering in the surprisingly bitter cold of Amritsar...alone (my friends are meeting me the next day), riding a bicycle rickshaw through empty streets, exhausted from my journey...arriving and more or less passing out in a large old guest house with a fireplace and broken windows...unsure where I've found myself, unsure what the morning will bring...

...it comes, it's COLD, I wander out onto the street where people huddle everywhere waiting for the sun to come up enough to really warm the day...Amritsar is a huddling city, it seems. Later that morning a couple of friends arrive, and suddenly the warmth returns to my soul (I realize I was quite lonely...). It's been a while since I saw a familiar face from my student group, and I'm happy to share stories and to set out into the city with them.

Amritsar is a fascinating place--old city surrounding the beautiful Golden Temple of the Sikhs, one of the truly wonderful places of the world. Sikhs--wearing turbans and with long beards mostly, and all seemingly very friendly--from all over the world (a joke goes that you can find potatoes and Sikhs in every country in the world)--a giant pool of water with a shining gold temple in the middle--marble walkways and buildings surrounding it all, kept spotlessly clean 3 times daily by armies of volunteers...so much to take in, kind of frustrating because I truly don't understand the religion as I'd like, except that it sees charity as key and seeks to erase all lines of caste and creed distinction.

And a free lunch served to tens of thousands daily--chappati and dahl, we are served too...afterward we stop to watch the hundreds of volunteers who wash dishes, serve food, guide diners, cut and chop vegetables, stir the dahl in huge pots, and roll chapatis in innumerable amounts...then suddenly before I know it, we too are sitting with the chapati makers, rolling the dough as best as we can, over and over and over again, trying hard to keep up and to do it as well as the others...but never quite perfecting it, to the enjoyment of our fellow workers. We do it for 45 minutes or so, slowly improving but never matching their skill, before we decide to leave it to the professionals; and trying to find our way out, our hands and feet covered in flour, we wander into a courtyard where we are served chai in large metal bowls by a man who tries to impress us with his knowledge of foreign leaders from 20 years ago...

...and then it is sunset. One day full of the unexpected, in a country that is now throwing it at me so often that it almost seems ordinary. I am knocked off my feet but not ready to stop...yet as the sun goes down the chill returns and we remember how cold this town really is...time to hide from the chill...

Tonight we have changed hotels and are right next to the Temple itself...the street is so busy outside, with small food stalls, chai wallahs, bike rickshaws, worshippers and pilgrims, ice cream (despite the cold everyone seems to love it), and horns sounding all the time. There is a newer part of the city, which we saw last night, but the life is here--and we are now inthe middle of it, even as night falls and the huddling begins once again.

And there's more, but I cannot share it all--the fabric dealer who we've seen a couple of times, hearing stories from him about Partition and his children in America (apparently now we are his kids too)...he made my friend NIck and I some wool pants and has told us to return tomorrow for tea so he can give us "advice for life", so we won't forget him...

This has been the most amazing week; yet unreal somehow, because all of these exciting experiences have somehow seemed expected or perhaps I'm just getting to used to it, despite my astonishment at every moment. My heart pulled in every direction, my mind trying not to focus on the fact that we must return to Delhi tomorrow to finish our papers and presentations...

...I am changed each day here, I realize; but at the same time my soul is reconfirmed in its amazement and love of life and people's similarities everywhere. Perhaps that is the true contradiction one finds in India--beyond the poverty/rich, sacred/profane, hot/cold, natural/artificial--the contradiction of everything new/yet somehow familiar seems the most strange and difficult of all.
Too soon now for conclusions, though--life calls on as usual. Good to hear from all of you, I do miss you and realize I'll be seeing many of you very soon. Happy Thanksgiving! (I think we'll be celebrating ourselves in Delhi, with any luck!)

Take care, I'll be in touch. Now back to the streets for a bit of the air that reminds me that India isn't always the oven we found when we arrived. Wondering what will come about now...but knowing it will probably not ever make complete sense. I'll write soon.

Namaste,
Craig

*****************

Date: 12/6/2003 23:10:46 -0800
From: Craig Beebe <internationalcows@yahoo.com>
Reply-to: beebe@lclark.edu

Subject: Back to Delhi...and then strangest of all...

Hello,

I want to apologize for how long it's been since I last wrote, but a lot has happened...I feel like the last week or so has knocked me left, right and upside down; and now that I find my feet on the ground again I'm quite amazed at where that ground is.

Returning to Delhi was somewhat like returning to Portland--everything just seemed so, well, normal. Compared to much of what I had seen in villages, countryside, and elsewhere in India, our neighborhood in Delhi seemed clean and orderly--stores with Western goods, the local McDonald's, traffic lights and freshly painted streets...since we left Delhi the first time we have all come to the realization that our neighborhood there was one of the wealthiest in the city, an important diplomatic enclave actually. And I guess I had forgotten exactly how different that is, from the rest of India.

It was amazing--remembering how new it had all seemed the first time we arrived there: in the middle of the night back in September...walking around that first day, just taking it all in...and now everything seemed so tame. I can't really explain the kind of slight disappointment that overcame me upon rearrival there.

Of course, our last week was kind of spent in a vacuum, anyway, working on our papers and presentations. Suddenly everyone in the group had to be honest about the fact that the primary reason we were there was, yes, academic--and the primary makeup of our grade was this upcoming paper...and with a limited amount of computers at the cybercafes and lack of resources available the stress level was quite high. Most of my work was based on notes I had taken from conversations with people in the country so I was able to get straight to writing, more or less--but it was difficult to be in full "student" mode while life went on outside...I had this distinct sense that I was missing my last week in Delhi, by spending all my time inside at a computer. I think the feeling was felt by all in our group.

And the other thing--the cold. Delhi, upon return, was suddenly COLD. Actually, the coldest November in some time, according to the papers...and without heating in homes, it hits you hard. So we struggled under sweaters and blankets (the presentation sessions themselves were quite funny--people huddled under thick quilts as though it were the middle of winter--I'm not sure if it was really all that cold or if we're just completely unconditioned to it from being in warmer India for so long...Luckily I had bought some wool clothes in Amritsar so I was able to keep pretty warm.)

In the midst of this all, Thanksgiving was a lot of fun...we had chicken prepared from a local hotel, butmade our own yams and potatoes, and pies too. It was quite a feast--fruit salad and vegetables as well. We had a few Indian guests, who had heard of Thanksgiving but were excited to be present.

Actually there were a lot of reminders of America during this last week...almost as though it's what everyone in the group really wanted. TV was watched with much more intensity--as a break from studying of course--the local restaurants that served Western food made a lot of money off our group, and we even made pancakes one night (explaining to our confused housekeepers that they were something like the roti flat bread that they eat every night)...a cultural mixing like none other.

And in all this excitement, all this stress...building up...planning for the upcoming weeks...looking back on three months in India...

...I got sick.

Very sick. A flu, really, but it knocked everything out of me, just as I was supposed to be working on my paper. I had been a bit sick back in Bangalore, had taken Cipro (which makes you better but kills all of the bacteria in your body...ALL of it), and I think I must have picked something up in the forest or Amritsar...but without the bacteria my body needed my immune system was terribly weak. Fighting the sickness was taking every ounce of energy I had...

...and on top of this, I somehow lost the ability to properly sleep. So I was getting just a few hours a night, then having to push myself all day, trying to write and prepare, then not sleeping the next night...
And I must be honest, I was quite a wreck.

So we made a decision, and suddenly I was headed home. The program ended Dec. 4, I was on a plane at 12:05 AM Dec. 5, and the journey home began. I'm not even sure how long it took--I know that there was a sunrise in Bangkok, dinner in Tokyo, then a sunrise in LA...all on December 5. I know that I didn't sleep, either...and by the time I arrived in Portland last night it had probably been over 48 hours since I last had a moment of good, real sleep.

I think I scared my mother--I think I looked rather terrible. She tried to smile, but, well...let's not try to make things too pleasant.

So fast forward to now...I slept from 6 PM last night until 3 PM today, then from 4:30 to 7:30, and I'm ready for bed again...the in-between time spent eating, primarily, telling a few stories, a little shopping...(I'd like to say it's really really shocking and all but actually I'm not sure what to say about getting home yet...stay tuned for that, I guess...)

So yes, I am back in the States. Tomorrow I will drive back up to Pullman, where I suppose I will spend a few weeks primarily in "rest" mode...

...India really did take a lot out of me. But not more than I took from it. This is no place for any sort of "conclusions", though, for as I see it thetrip may be over, but the journey is not. Even though I am now back in American territory, I feel like my mind is now somehow constantly in two places--and most of the lessons from India, I think, are yet to be discovered.

Already, going out here, I find myself making little comparisons to the way things were back there, not critically so much as amazedly, remembering that "oh yeah, things are like THIS here" and reliving the thrill of overhearing people talking (and being able to understand what they are saying). And this is only the first 24 hours or so.

I'll probably write another email about the readjusting sometime soon, and that may be it for the "Craig in India" series...I want to thank you all for, well, putting up with these emails cluttering your inbox...and for your kind words, thoughts, and prayers. I have missed you all and I still do.

No summaries, though. No conclusions. Just the acknowledgement that these things don't really end at all...and the awareness that I must work to be as conscious of the continuing lessons as I can--and try to pass those on to others.

We teach from our experiences, learn from them, and grow from them--but if we do not share them and allow others to share their own, then we really go nowhere as people. So share stories, people--learn from your own and others', and together we'll all keep growing.

Wow, this has been a long email...sorry about that. Better close it up, let us all get back to our journeys once again, eh?

So goodnight, from Portland. Thanks for being there. I will see you soon, I hope.

Craig

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