Hope this won't be the last post by kt

I have been unable to blog until now. The words simply aren't coming to me. There are things that I want to mention in the interest of full disclosure, but I also must respect all those involved and exercise professional courtesy, even if certain individuals do not deserve that.

Instead of writing of negative experiences, which thankfully were few and far in between, I would like to give props to those who deserve it.

In no particular order:

The Indian delegates. Anu, Anil, Bharath, Krishna, Vikas, Roopa, Fathima, and Anand. I know that we all had doubts about the effectiveness of our work, if any, but you all quickly dispelled any doubts that we had. Even if it was different than what we all originally imagined, it was clear from your skit at the closing ceremony that we did have an impact. More importantly, it was clear that you guys learned from this experience and our hope is that you will take it all to heart and continue the work that we started together.

Anantadev Das. For your honesty and your patience. This program would not have been a success without you and I know that we all hope to be able to work with you again.

Chandra Mouli. I think we all fell in love with your giggle! What I am most impressed with is your positive attitude at all times. We know it is not easy, as you always say. Yet, you manage to pull it off and it is clear that you have the best interests of the Indian Deaf at heart.

Smitha's family.

Patti, who is Smitha's grandmother. For she graciously welcomed us into her home on several occasions and gave us food, a place to sleep, shower, and rest.

Rathna and JS also deserve huge thank yous from us. Not only are they allowing us to stay with them right now, but they also let the four of us stay here when we first arrived in Bangalore. I know we all fell in love with their coffee and more importantly, both of them as well.

JS for showing us what a real banana leaf meal was like. Rathna for force feeding us and making us as comfortable as possible.

Ambe. Smitha's cousin who gave up his time for us on numerous occasions to fetch autos for us. As well as the time that he took to help lead autos to designations, or all the times he went to grab food for us. He even gave up a couple days to go to Mysore with us. There aren't many 18 year olds you meet that willingly do that for a group of strangers without complaint like he did.

Mega, Ambe's sister, for giving up her one day off to do henna tattoos for us. They came out beautifully and we will post pictures once we return to the states.

Anju, another cousin of Smitha's, also gave up a lot of time for us. She often helped us out with checking out information for us, researching travel arrangements, accompanying us to places. I also never once saw her complain despite the fact that she holds down a full time job herself.

Smitha's Mysore aunt, Shashi, for allowing us to stay at her place several nights and for making us feel so welcome!

Tamer, for his patience with 7 pretty strong personalities. 8 if you include his own personality as well! Also for always keeping us in the loop as much as possible and for refusing to budge when necessary.

Smitha, my words cannot express the huge debt of gratitude that we all owe you. I truly believe you are largely responsible for this trip going as smoothly as it did. Thank you for showing us a whole new world that most of us never knew about before. It is clear where your heart belongs and I'm excited to see what you accomplish here in the years to come.

It is surreal to think that this experience has mostly come to an end. There are so many little things that I wanted to blog about but could never fit it in my long entries. The near-misses that we all had with various vehicles. Our different shower experiences, our encounters with a ghost at the lodge, all of our interactions with the Indian delegates, the way the Indian drivers drive, our experiences with the various modes of transportation, all the different foods that we have tasted, and just the various intrinciate details of Indian life.

I noticed the other day that I no longer smelled anything. When I first came to India, my senses were all assaulted from the various sights, sounds, tastes, and smells. Especially, the various smells! Good conmingled with bad. I wondered aloud to Wyatte if America would be a different sensory overload.

Lizzie said this in an email that she sent some of us:

"I Am currently reading "cultural smart! India" and it says in the intro (which I never noticed before till now): "it is impossible to be unmoved by india. 'Visit india, and you will never be the same again,' say the tourist brochures. It is true. The very name stirs the imagination, and a visit is an adventure. India will change you."

So true.
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No sympathy for paparazzi by kt

Sympathy for movie stars. That is how I feel after today. What did we do? We visited Tumkur and three deaf schools in the area as well. This brings our total number of schools visited thus far on this trip to 12. Wow. Just when we think that we cannot possibly see nor learn anthing new from yet another school, we are quickly proven wrong.

The city of Tumkur sits amongst the mountains that my discerning Colorado eyes gave a stamp of approval to, even if they were a tad but on the small side. it also has forests of palm trees, a dichtomy I couldn't quite get used to. Tumkur reminds me a lot of Goa. More of a nature place with farm animals, herders, villages, dirt roads, and so on. It was a nice escape from the hustle and bustle of Bangalore, albeit for only one day.

First up on the docket was the Helen Keller Integrated school for the deaf. My excitement at seeing hearing and deaf students attending a deaf school quickly dissipated when it was explained to me that the hearing students are only there because their parents have no choice. You see, many Indian parents seem to believe that if you send a hearing child to a school with children that aren't "normal", that hearing child will acquire whatever disability the "abnormal" children have.

The parents of said children are simply too poor to afford the school fees so they are "reduced" to sending their child to a deaf school.

We posed for the obligatory group pictures, shook dozens of hands, and loaded up into a too-small van: which seems to be the theme of this trip.

Next up was the Red Cross School for the deaf that was established and is operated under a trust fund from the Rotary Club. The students learn Kannada and the schoolhouse itself is tiny with only a few rooms. The purpose of our school visits are to interact with the kids and to learn more about what we can do to support the Indian deaf. However, the whole trip turned into one huge political event full of photo opportunities and that left me and some others feeling a little bit violated and used.

I met and shook hands with various leaders of the school, members of the rotary club, community members, etc. They all seemed more excited at the prospect of us being Americans rather than members of a delegation; the GRO delegation.

The purpose of our visit was quickly lost when I was continually sought out to pose for many many pictures for and with many people. Did I mention the number of people I posed for pictures with? It was a lot of pictures.

Everytime I sat down, I was asked to stand up and pose for another picture. I didn't get to interact with any of the kids really. Even the kids' games with the delegates were constantly interrupted by adults wanting to take pictures of them with the Americans. I kept wanting to switch places with Smitha as she is the coordinator and should be the one in all of the pictures. Or Chandru, Anandandev, or Tamer. They even kept grabbing the researcher, Michelle, to pose for pictures even though she is not a part of our group nor does she contribute one iota to our team nor our mission, all because she was a token white person as well.

The women workers were of lower caste and they were often ordered around and not included in the pictures. I asked them to pose for a couple pictures with me because I felt bad about their exclusion, and that seemed to make their day, which disgusted me. Not because I don't like making people happy, but just because I view myself as plain and ordinary old KT. There is nothing special about me, there is nothing about me that should make the focus all about me and have the children and the purpose of this trip be neglected.

I was just really turned off and unsure of what to think. To get all of this admiration merely because of my nationality or because of the color of my skin felt wrong. At the same time, I couldn't refuse or not participate as that would give off a bad impression or send the wrong message. But, my conflicted mind wondered, what type of message am I sending by participating in the political agendas of some leaders? Perhaps it is merely a choice between two evils and the lesser of either. More on that in a minute.

The original plan for today included only 2 school visits, but we were surprised with a trip to another school. My initial impressions were more of an, "osh kosh omigosh! Look at the sheer number of chillun roaming the streets here!". This was the Integrated Education Center established by Shree Shree Shree Dr. Shiva Kumar Swami, who set up a lot of schools in the area and stuff like that.

When we disembarked the vans, we were treated to a swarm of children, which I videotaped. Ganesh also took pictures, then we inadvertently caused a mini-stampede amongst the children when they swarmed the steps and the older students beat them back with sticks. It caused some students to fall and down the other students went like dominos. We felt so bad as we were climbing the concrete spiral staircase, but we knew that we would have made the situation worse if we stayed behind to help.

So, we walked across the balcony into a great big room full of obedient students lined up in neat little rows and making nary a move. The teachers and directors explained that the area had at least a thousand school children, and most attend schools established by that man I mentioned earlier. He is still alive at the young age of 100, but not doing well at the moment as he was just admitted to a hospital a couple days ago.

So, the children that are poor migrate from the villages and see their parents maybe once a year. The deaf children live, eat, and sleep at the school. They also have school everyday too, imagine that. The girls are sent home in order to keep them separated from the boys, I believe the exact quote was, "so that the boys don't make whores out of the girls.". Lovely, comments like those make me love the patriarchial society of India more and more everyday.

No, I shouldn't be sarcastic as I do love India more and more every day. Comments like those frustrate me because I see a different India emerging that is trying to break the shackles of that oppression.

When we left the school, we could see that the mob was growing from the balcony. All of the children were waving to us and of course we were waving back even though it felt funny to do so. It felt like we were famous and we all kept commenting on how we were just *insert skin color here* Americans.

Weaving through the crowd, I saw one of the Indian delegates, Bharath, holding the most adorable puppy and props to Smitha for calling me over immediately to show me. I asked to hold him and he fell asleep in my arms, so cute! I wanted to adopt him. I want to adopt all of the dogs that I see in india! Well, not the one in the yard that jumped up on a fence the other day as I walked by and started barking inches from my face. India can keep that particular dog, he nearly made me mess me pants.

I digress, walking to the tiny vans, kids started swarming us wanting to shake our hands which was fine at first. However, they started to refuse to let go of my hand and this was escalated by them grabbing me and pulling me further into the crowd.

I started to become very concerned for my safety and the safety of the other members of my group. It was like mob mentality, the crowd was simply unruly and out of control and becoming increasingly agitated. The older boys and some adults had to beat off the kids with a stick just to get me out of the crowd that I was entrapped in by the kids who wouldn't let go of my hand nor me. Then they had to beat a path to the waiting van in orfer to usher me and others inside. The children surrounded the van and started to reach inside to grab at us as well as bang on the walls of the van and windows. The van was completely surrounded with children four or five deep at one point. The driver got out and closed our windows and started yelling at the kids and hitting them. That didn't work and he eventually had to just speed up and plow through the crowd just to get the heck out of there.

Meanwhile, we were all sitting inside the van wondering if this was really happening.

After that, we went to a deaf club. The Tumkur Federation for the Deaf. I knew that we were going to a deaf club to meet deaf adults, but I didn't expect to walk in and be on a panel. To make matters worse, the other bus got lost, so it was just Wyatte, Smitha, and I sitting in front of a crowd of 40 or so people smiling all awkwardly because we had no idea about this: another theme of our trip.

It wasn't so bad, it was nice being able to explain GRO's mission and our goal of empowerment. Many seemed to have the misconception that we were there to help them or do something for them. Tamer and Bus kept trying to explain that we were here to empower them, to see what the issues were as identified by them, and to support them in addressing those issues.

There was one vocal man in the crowd that the others kept trying to shush as they seemed embarrassed by his antics. He raised some valid points, however, such as the need for unity. He was clearly very frustrated at the caste system, both in the hearing and deaf world. I wish that they would have let him talk more. As a professor at Gallaudet once told Smitha, there are three things that are needed for change: unity, a common language, and what else?

After we left the club, we ran out of time to do what we planned to do. This is another thing that frustrates all of us immensely. We make plans, but the plans aren't followed or they are modified without our consent and we feel like we have no choice but to follow. For, if we don't, we give a bad impression of us. However, it is also our time and we already give so much of it as it is.

I don't know what the solution to that is. The concept of time here is obviously very fluid. Is it a problem on our part because we are from America and very used to punctuality and getting things done in a timely manner? Or is it a problem on their part for not following the plans that were established and agreed to? Are we trying to cram too much in a short stay? Is it a genuine problem or just a clash of cultures? I don't know the answer to that. All I know is that I don't think the workshops were what we expected and that we would likely have done things differently had we known. Then what we know now. Hindsight is 20/20, c'est la vie. All we can do is learn from it, move forward, and be happy that for the most part, our experience here in India has been very positive even if it has not been what we expected at some points.
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Confused in Bangalore by Wyatte

So far this week, working with the Indian delegates has been a very positive experenice. Yesterday at SKID, we spent about an hour and half with 7 to 10 standard (12 to 18 years old). It was the first time we had a large chunk of time interacting with students and not just visiting the schools.

The previous day, we split up into two groups to come up with various activities and an empowerment workshop. For example, my group decided to use a flower as a representation of yourself and using it as an analogy for achieving your dream. We had each student say their name and what their dream was. Some wanted to become teachers or engineers while others wanted to graduate school or even help the Deaf.

We explained how flowers come in all kinds of different shapes and sizes but they're all beautiful in their own way. We tried to compare the growing and nurturing of the flower to the students themselves with their family and education being the equalivalent of water and sun.

I was disappointed with how the workshop progressed because we had very limited time and it was so hard to be on the same page with the students that we ended up just playing games that we originally intended for later. It was really nice to see the smiles on the students' faces but I couldn't help but feel "empty" for lack of a better word because what will they have gained from our time there other than a break from class for a few hours and a positive impression of Americans? The whole purpose of empowerment was completely lost and I felt like the students were cheated out of something really worthwhile.

This leads to my next point... It seems like the whole concept of empowerment and Deaf rights is not fully understood by our Indian delegates and coordinators. Chandramouli, one of the coordinators who I like a lot and geninuely cares about doing something to immprove everything here, spoke after the students left and essentially said that we gave the students something positive to remember and good entertainment.

That really hit me, I do not think the whole purpose of why we are here is understood by even the coordinators. If the coordinators don't fully understand the concept of empowerment, how can we expect school students to?

While we were playing games, one was Human Chain which basically consisted of people holding hands but knotting them together and then trying to get out of the tangle of arms to form one big circle. The catch is that you can't let go and you need to go over, under and around people. The dynamics were interesting as right from the beginning boys stood on one side and girls on the other.

Once we finally got them to mix it up, they wouldn't hold hands which defeated the entire point of the game. After several false starts, they finally acquiesed and seemed to really enjoy themselves. We had split up the 30+ students into two groups and the difference was startling. One was barely communicating and trying to solve it so fast that they ended up just getting more tangled. The other was a bit more slow and communicated more effectively, eventually getting out of the tangle.

I thought it was a good representation of the two sides of India that we've seen so far. Its hard to remember that India is a young country, having achieved independence only 60O years ago and before the British, they weren't even unified as a country but rather many separate kingdoms.

This is why the challenge of creating one Indian sign language is so daunting and a lot of people resist changing their language anyway - which I can't really blame them for but considering the extreme conditions here and amount of people, I think the only way Indian Deaf will really be able to exert change on a nationwide scale would be with the unifying force of having one language to communicate in. This doesn't even include the fact that the various Deaf leaders here tend to fight among themselves and not work together, it s very fustrating and there is no easy solution.
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An invisible identity by alf

Just now, we got back from SKID and said our goodbyes to the Indian delegates. One of them is a Muslim and has been taking off her black burqa before meeting with us. I've never seen a woman put a burqa on before, so when I watched her putting it back on to leave for home, I couldn't believe what I saw. To me, it was almost like an illusion. What I was seeing couldn't be real. Without her burqa, she has a beautiful soul, she is always smiling, and giving warm hugs. When I see her face, I see joy and warmth. However, when she put her buqa on, all that I just said about her was stripped away. I couldn't see her anymore. I couldn't see the same person. That really struck me hard. It reminded me of the "Under the Burqa" monologue I performed at the Vagina Monologues 2 years ago. It was just an eerie sight for me.

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Alf's blog

This blog from me is looong overdue. Warning, this is a long one so grab a pillow, some popcorn, and get comfortable. The last time we really got to "rest" was the 36 hour train ride from Bangalore to New Dehli. 36 hours...*gulp*...I really had no idea what to expect. When we got to the station, it smelled like one ginormous porta-potty. I later realized that it's because the bathrooms on the train (both Eastern and Western) had holes on the bottom which is where your business went out and onto the tracks. The car we rode was a sleeper car that could fit 8 people in a section and had no AC. No AC with the news that a heat wave was to hit Northern India, *gulp* We got through like brave soldiers. The funniest thing that happened was when Smitha threw her leftover dinner, veggie curry, out the window (no trashcans on the train, so passengers are to throw any waste out the window), she forgot to throw her food straight down while the train was moving fast. You can probably figure out what happened...as in where the food ended up.
To keep ourselves entertained, we played card games with some Indian guys that we befriended. In a game of Egyptian Rats, one of the Indian guys was getting playfully frustrated about losing each hand and started punching me in the arm and slapping the back of my head and my face...not all at once, but occasionally throughout the game. The fact that he slapped my face...not a gentle slap, I literally felt the bones in his fingers wake up the pain nerves in my face....I was shocked! Why would this Indian man slap an American woman's face that he just met? Over a game of cards? Wyatte and Bus looked at me in shock too. We didn't really know what to make of it, but we eventually found out that, that behavior is common as playful guesters.

There was a big difference between Bangalore and the villages we saw during our trip up. Mostly farms and slums. We saw people bathing in polluted puddles...I say puddles because the water level was so low considering how it used to be a big river. Shelter was made out of trash, tarp, dried vegetation. There's no concept of a land fill where there's one place for garbage...there's trash everywhere. The smell wasn't very pleasant, but its everywhere and you kind of have to get used to it.

When we finally got to New Dehli in our sweaty, 2 day old clothes, we all unanimously voted to find a flight back to Bangalore. We found a hotel with the help of a young man who was on his way home for the summer from college. Once we all showered and changed clothes, we checked out and went to Pizza Hut. I told myself that I wouldn't eat any American food during this trip, but after the train ride and some of us getting the big D, the doors opening to the smell of Pizza Hut pizza was like the gates of heaven. Later that evening, we all went to Vaibhav Kothari's house. Vai is currently an RIT student who grew up here in Dehli. When I talked with him, we hit it off really well. What really surprised me was that Vai had been to Fremont, CA and lived in the same housing complex that I live in now. When I first moved to Fremont to start my new job teaching at CSD, my neighbors mentioned to me about how a deaf guy who is Indian used to live there. Little did I know that I'd be flying half way around the world to meet him. Like I said in my last blog, this world is tiny! For those Fremontians who know Vai, he says HI!

Vai's family was really generous to us as they made dinner and socialized with us all evening. Their hospitality was much appreciated. Vai's family owns several successful business in Dehli and their home is beautiful with one of their office buildings next door that focus on designing and buliding dams. Their home is located in what you could call a "gated community". It's very different than what we have in America. There's a wall that surrounds the area with a military guard with a rifle. The walls had shards of broken glass cemented at the top to prevent trespassers from coming in. It almost looked like a concentration camp from the outside. Kinda scary.

Over the next two days, we took a rented bus to Agra to see the Taj Mahal and to Jaipur to see the "Pink City" which was actually more like a brownish-peach city. Seeing the Taj was neat, but it was pretty simple. I kind of expected to see something more elaborate. Despite the simple, beautiful, white marble structure, the reason for it's existance was moving. Would you build something as magnificent for the love of your life? In Jaipur, we did some shopping and visited an ancient fort that was high up on a hill. Guess what color it was?

We came back to Dehli late at night and had to use our tour book to find some last minute sleeping arrangements. There were only email addresses for 3 hotels in the book. We were able to make arrangements with Namaskar Hotel right across from the New Dehli station. It's not quite the safest part of town so we were very alert when walking over there. The hotel was down this really narrow and putrid-smelling alley. The first thing that came to mind when I saw the hotel was the movie "The Beach". The hotel reminded me of the hotel that Leonardo Di Caprio's character stayed in before he moved to the island in Thailand. The narrow hallways glowed a dim lime green, the doors were locked using pad locks, hot and mucky inside, just eerie. We were all a bit creeped out and considered moving to another hotel. We ended up settling there anyways because staying there was a safer option than walking out at night. When we all awoke the next morning, it was like we woke up to a different place. There were many other foreign travelers staying there and the creepy factor disappeared. At the end of the street is the main street that is filled with a gazillion vendors selling all kinds of things from clothes, accessories, henna tattoos, mostly touristy stuff. This street reminded many of us of Khao San Road in Thailand.

The location of our hotel turned out to be a coincidence because the NGO that we planned to visit was around the corner, the Dehli Foundation for Deaf Women. Once we stepped into their building, we saw that the women there spent their time making crafts that were displayed on the walls and used to sell. Their art work was on tapestries, leather, stationary. The room was filled with sewing machines, buckets of art supplies for painting and leatherwork. We were so taken aback by their craftswork that we started buying some of their work without any hesitation. After we all satisfied our shopping urge, we talked about GRO and the history of the women's organization. I really enjoyed myself as it seemed like we had met these women before. I still marvel at how fast and easy it is to befriend complete strangers from another country through our mutual understanding of Deaf Culture and use of sign language. One thing that surprised me is that the women who make the crafts/artwork for the organization get hardly enough money; 20 rupees a month. 20 rupees a month!? That's equivalent to 50 cents!

We stayed another night in Dehli, but it didn't last very long. The power went out and we were stuck in a mucky, hot room waiting until it was time to leave for our 645am flight back to Bangalore. Let me emphasize the word FLIGHT!! Yes! We found plane tickets back to Bangalore instead of taking another 36 hours back by train.

On the 19th, we had the opening ceremony at APD (All People with Disabilities, a school and facility that provides services and equipment for the disabled) to mark the beginning of our fieldwork with the Indian delegates. A hearing woman sang a prayer vocally to Saraswathi which is a goddess that they seek guidance to better education for the deaf. It was interesting to see a cultural ritual that they do, but it felt out of place because none of us could hear her and I didn't see the connection of that as to how the Indian people celebrate their Deaf Culture. Now I apologize if I make any misspellings with the names here because remembering these big names is brainwracking. Each of the directors and coordinators were introduced and gave a brief statement about what they do and their visions. Smitha was the only coordinator from the US. Hiramanth, the program coordinator for..............wants to, "combine Indian and American ideas" to help improve education for the deaf.
Anantadev Das, a well known leader in Bangalore's deaf community who founded SDD (Sanatana Dharma of the Deaf) and coordinator of our fieldwork program, talked about his background and history. He came to Gallaudet to give a lecture on religion and philosophy and that experience marked the beginning of his networking between the American and Indian deaf community.
Chandramouli, the coordinator for the Indian delegates mentioned that this is the first time in history that a program like this has happened here in India. It feels good knowing that I have the opportunity to be a part of it.
Kripa, the sign language cell coordinator at the Institute of Speech and Hearing talked about how she has been working hard to spread the awareness of sign language and to get sign language to be respected as a language despite the fact that different sign languages are used in different parts of India. Her biggest goal is to work hard to ensure that the language of instruction for the deaf is in ISL and ASL, not together but separately. That was a relief for me to hear that someone in the room understood that the use of two languages should not be mixed up, but rather used separately. I had studied and learned a lot about language acquisition during my masters program in Deaf Education and for me to witness a mixture of languages being used, its no surprise that confusion and miscommunication occurred often. Unfortunately, I found a comment that Kripa made about Smitha's speech to be a bit contradictory to what she said about avoiding the mixture of two languages. She commented on Smitha's method of communication (Total Communication) to be "signing in one box" and speaking in beautiful English and now she wants to see that more. Smitha was using ASL and English simultaneously, not separately. The reason why 2 languages should not be mixed is because neither language is produced fluently. Spoken English has to be modified to fit the structure of ASL and vice versa. It causes some gaps in the fluid production of both languages.

Overcoming the language barrier between 2 different nations will be the biggest challenge during this week. Even though we had 2 Indian interpreters who used a mixture of ASL and ISL, there were deaf participants who understand only Kannada. Kannada sign language has not been formally developed yet and these participants are just starting to learn English and ISL/ASL. I was somewhat bummed to find that the deaf community in Bangalore uses a mixture of ASL and ISL because I was hoping to become more immersed with learning ISL. It's quite easy for us American delegates to understand them, but for the Indian delegates, they're still acquiring ASL and with us not knowing many signs in ISL, making sure they understood us was a challenge.

Shri V. S. Basavaraj, the director of APD, said he is "all about change" and has been waiting for a moment like this to happen and that each one of us delegates, American and Indian, are considered to be role models for the deaf. He has a strong desire to change the way society sees people who have a disability, to see them as capable human beings just like everyone else.
Shri Rama Reddy, the director of the Department of Welfare of Disabilities and Senior Citizens, mentioned how deaf people face different issues than other people with disabilities due to the fact that we use a visual language.

On the 20th, we visited 3 local schools for the deaf. At Adarsh College, we met with a group of deaf college students and we had a discussion of what challenges they face at the school, mostly related to needing support services, interpreters (they only have 1), better notetakers, desire for direct instruction,etc. At RV Integrated School for the Disabled, which is an oral school, 50% of the day is spent in classes for deaf students and 50% of the day is spent in classes with their hearing peers. It was amazing to see that every child had hearing aids, even the old box with hard plastic molds model are still being used today. The last time I saw those kind of hearing aids was in '86.
While observing a math class where the younger students learn with their mothers, it was difficult for me to watch a deaf child guesturing to their mother and instead of receiving feedback that was visually accessible, the child's eyebrows crinkled down, eyes squinted, trying to make out the word that the mother was mouthing. It just looked really unnatural.
At the Sunaad Institute for Speech and Hearing, they teach some English and have a sign language class. We spent the afternoon learning some ISL and teaching some ASL and reciting ABC stories. Earlier at that school, I observed a class where the method of instruction is oral. Even though the teacher normally teaches maths/science/dance, he was teaching an audiotory training class where the kids were learning how to recognize high and low frequency sounds. The kids were sitting at their desks eager to impress us with recognizing the difference between a bell chime, a horn, a drum beat....I was in awe because not only was a student way off with her recognition, but the fact that it was obvious that no matter how many times she practiced this sound recognition, she probably will never be able to recognize the sound outside the classroom. The children looked like robots during that activity. In fact, the kids had already figured out who has the best hearing and would follow that kid. I also felt like a fool standing up in front of the classroom with the teacher talking to me really slowly, emphasizing each consonant expecting me to understand him. If only these kids could truly express how they feel doing this everyday......*sigh*

Oh! I forgot to mention, one of the highlights of the day was when Wyatte got hit by a cow on his buttocks! We were walking back to APD from ISH and there was a cow standing on the sidewalk. The cows here are considered sacred and are free to roam around as they like. Right when Wyatte passed the cow, it swung its head real hard and whacked him on his butt. Wyatte's face expression was permanant for the rest of the day.

On the 21st, yesterday, we stayed in at APD and had a workshop on Leadership, Deaf Rights, and prepared a workshop on Teamwork that we're going to do today at the Sheila Kolatta School for the Deaf (SKID). We all learned a new outdoor game called Koko, which is a mixture of baseball, bowling, and dodge ball. The object of the game is to knock a tower of rocks down with a ball and rebuild it without getting hit by the ball by the other team. It was a lot of fun! We just came back from visiting the Amruthavani Kannada School for the Hearing Impaired. It's a free school that was founded by a teacher who used to work at SKID. On the way to AKSHI, we had to cross a railroad track and the train was coming as some of us were crossing it. Smitha, Wyatte, and Chandramouli were behind and ran to try to cross the tracks before the train passed. Chandramouli didn't feel like he was gonna make it and tried to stop Smitha and Wyatte, but his eyes widened with surprise when he saw Smitha and Wyatte determined to cross and quickly followed. It was insane! Not only that, but the train choo-chooed right by where we were and released thick, black exhaust from the engine car. We all ran for cover and covered our face. You couldn't see anyone in front of you.

What's next?

Alf
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Day three by kt

Today was very relaxing as we just stayed at the APD and did workshops.

I was really amazed by how all of the delegates came together by the end of the day. At the beginning, there were numerous communication barriers and lots of interpreting and translating going on. We all had to practice a lot of patience on everyone's part and it helped when we made things more visual via short skits and examples.

I know that in Jaipur, some members of team one tried to teach me some ISL, but I'm the kind of person that learns best through doing. So, I didn't really remember nor use any of the signs taught to me.

However, at the end of today, I could see the Indian delegates using signs that they had picked up from us and the American delegates (myself included) using a lot of ISL. I also was happy to see the Indian girls become more assertive when they didn't understand something or wanted someone to move in order to see them better. Actually, that statement applies to all of the Indian delegates.

I was reviewing the video at the end of the day to label everything and I was intrigued by the transformation that occurred in our group in the course of one day. We all went from being shy and reserved to the end of the evening when we all socialized way past the end of the workshops. We compared dance moves, Tamer cut a rug with Bus, and Wyatte and Alf learned a dance move or two from the Indian delegates.

One of the Indian delegates also decided to regale us all with a retelling of the tale regarding a certain blogger's, one who shall remain nameless, incident with the cow on the streets of Bangalore yesterday.

I think we are all getting much more comfortable with one another and I am glad for that since we start giving workshops to high school students tomorrow!

The food at the school is so delicious, I can't get over it. I asked Smitha why the foods at the restaurants weren't like this, because I was really starting to detest Indian food from our not-so-good restaurant experiences. To which I got a reply of, "Honey, because it is homemade, that's why!"

I am also in love with fresh fruit juices. I was apprehensive to the idea of fruits at first based on warnings from everyone. I tested the waters with some sugardane in Goa, not too crazy about it. Nor was I fond of the sugardane juice that we had in Mysore. We also tried jackfruit in Halebid, which wasn't so bad despite smelling like unwashed feet. I am, however, in love with the pineapple juice here.

What else? The weather here has been extremely forgiving as of late. Lots of cool days and short rainstorms. No complaints here! It's nice walking to the APD in the mornings from the Don Basco Provincial Saletarian house, just go down Milton Road, hang a right on Davis street, then an immediate left on Hutchins and take that to past 5th Cross Hutchins road and go left past the Mini Bazarr store. The APD itself is a tranquil place I think. When we went out to the playground to play 7 Stones, an Indian game, a cute little boy came up and grabbed my hand and wanted his picture taken. Then he came up and held my hand again when Chandru was explaining the rules of the game.

That game is better than cricket, IMO. Albeit, a bit violent, haha. On that note, I should get some sleep. Good night/morning all!
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India v/s India: quoted by kt

This was recently published in The Times of India and I thought it would be worthwhile to share here.

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There are two Indias in this country.

One India is straining at the leash, eager to spring forth and live up to all the adjectives that the world has been showering recently upon us.

The other India is the leash.

One India says, give me a chance and I'll prove myself. The other India says, prove yourself first and maybe then you'll have a chance.

One India lives in the optimism of our hearts. The other India lurks in the skepticism of our minds.



One India wants. The other India hopes.

One India leads. The other India follows.



But conversions are on the rise. With each passing day more and more people from the other India have been coming over to this side.

And quietly, while the world is not looking, a pulsating, dynamic new India is emerging.

An India whose faith in success is far greater than its fear of failure. An India that no longer boycotts foreign-made goods but buys out the companies that make them instead.

History, they say, is a bad motorist. It rarely ever signals its intentions when it is taking a turn.

This is that rarely-ever moment. History is turning a page.

For more than half a century, our nation has sprung, stumbled, run, fallen, rolled over, got up, dusted herself and cantreed, sometimes lurched on. But today, as we begin our 60th year as a free nation, the ride has brought us to the edge of time's great precipice.

And one India - a tiny little voice at the back of the head - is looking down at the bottom of the ravine and hesitating.

The other India is looking up at the sky and saying, it's time to fly.
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