Nick Vails Spring 2007 Semester at Sea: 4/1/07

FRIDAY MARCH 30, 2007
I have been thinking a lot about how I might describe my experiences in India to those back home and frankly it is impossible. India is a place that can not be described but only experienced for oneself. It is a place that challenges your emotions, perceptions, and humanity. From hope, kindness, happiness, and awe to despair, anger, fear, and helplessness emotional states changed frequently and rapidly for me in this country and would oftentimes conflict. So where do I begin?

SUNDAY MARCH 25, 2007
Today I traveled from Chennai to New Delhi via Jet Airways. The first difference I came upon in India was the bureaucracy. To depart the ship we were required to fill out two customs declaration forms and meet with customs officials twice to gain approval to disembark. Unfortunately my Chinese friend Zhimin was unable to get through customs and had to remain on the ship the entire time in India. They refused to give him a reason for denial. Upon leaving the ship around 4pm and driving to the airport it was immediately noticeable that things were different here. The police guarded our ship with AK-47’s, the busses had no A/C, the fans did not work, and the smell was lets say unique. The drive to the airport was perhaps the most eye opening as I had not yet adjusted to the sights and smells I would experience regularly the next four days. I learned quickly that littering and public excretion had taken their toll on the city as clean and green areas were something reserved only for ones imagination. The streets were also occupied with bicycles, motorcycles, rickshaws (taxis), and daring pedestrians instead of the sole territory of cars and SUV’s as they are back home. But then something else began to attract my attention. Many of the sidewalks were not filled with people walking but instead small tents, blankets, and people sitting. And I realized that these people were not camping but living on these sidewalks, in the alleys, by the rivers/sewage systems, on the beaches, and in their rickshaws. In between decent gated concrete homes with a car in the driveway were thatched roof houses built of whatever shards of local vegetation could be found. In between modern glass hotels and office buildings were plots of land occupied by makeshift tents, tarps, and tenements. Underneath billboards selling diamond studded watches, HD Flat screen TV’s, and luxury condos were beggars, homeless, and the disabled. But as quickly as these observations came they went as we passed by in our bus and finally arrived at the airport.

For a city of seven million plus people, or about the population of North Carolina, the airport was very small. There were a total of six airline gates but all were serviced only by busses and the planes were all boarded out in the open on the tarmac. While on the bus headed towards the plane I had a completely unexpected experience sitting next to an overweight Indian lady and her young overweight son. She was listening to an iPod and holding Barak Obamas recently published book. I asked her what she thought about the book and she said it was interesting reading about the struggles he faced growing up. I soon learned that she had studied at Boston University studying law and she currently runs her own law firm in Chennai. She then inquired in to my thoughts on the 2008 presidential candidates and Obama’s chances. I shared my thoughts with her as we finally boarded the plane.

To my delight, I had received a first class seat due to the limited capacity of 70 students to fly economy on the Boeing 737. What fortune to ride in wide cushy seats and be served warm towels and cold drinks. While sitting in my comfortable seat I had a chance to read the in flight magazine and local newspaper. Fortunately the reading was for the privileged English literate societal class or about 3% of the 1.1 billion Indians in the country. There were articles on politics, agriculture, cement prices, astrology, banking, fashion, celebrities, vacations, cricket matches, and much more. One article contained a quote about economics that extremely fascinated and concerned me. Concerning a 32% rise in cement prices for 2006 the Indian finance minister, P. Chidambarams, was quoted as saying “The government owes responsibility to the people to moderate prices where prices have risen unreasonable.” From my western economics teachings this clearly would just limit the incentive of cement producers to increase production to meet the increased demand. There were also many interesting articles on call center (or BPO) worker wages, avoidance schemes of capital gains and dividend taxes, adoptions, investments of Indian FOREX reserves, the predicted slowing of Indian GDP growth to 8%, Garfield and Calvin and Hobbes cartoons, an Iran-Indian oil pipeline, Shakira performing in Bombay, investments in mega planned ultra-chic high tech cities modeled after Dubai, sex education in schools, and how US universities can invest in and expand their institutions in India. This last article discusses how only 7% of Indians between 18 and 24 enter a university, how US institutions are teaming up with Indian schools instead of setting up satellite campuses, and the increased use of telecommunications to bring US distance education to the Indian market. Finally, the classified sections were a little different especially in the employment and matrimonial areas. You HR folks would enjoy the ad that went “REQR: Female, Administrative Assistant, Young, Attractive, Computer Skills, Walk-Ins Accepted, Contact ******@yahoo.com.” Title VII provisions have not yet arrived in India it seems. I personally enjoyed the matrimonial section of the classified ads where families were looking for qualified husbands or wives for their children based on education, parental occupation, and caste. Finally the last article I will share with everyone was about a recent ruling on the permissible grounds for divorce. “If, WITHOUT the consent of her husband, a woman decides not to have children from her marriage or if she refuses to have sex with him for a considerable period, it would amount to mental cruelty on the husband, who could seek divorce citing this ground, according to the Supreme Court.” Furthermore sterilization by either partner without the others consent would also be “mental cruelty” and grounds for divorce. While those acts can be quite cruel, reasons of personal dislike or discontent with the other person, according to the article, are still not sufficient grounds for divorce.

Finally for me and for you my readings were interrupted by the in flight meal. “Vegetarian or Non-Vegetarian” were my simple choices, and I like meat. I quickly learned after eating some chicken curry that Indians like spicy food, really spicy food. Unfortunately for me water had not yet been served and I battled with the burning in my mouth until relief finally arrived. After the main dish I was served a chocolate parfait with coffee and a mint. While I and my fellow first class students indulged ourselves in this delicacy I stopped to look out the window for a moment. All I could see was darkness, but there was more than darkness, there were people. Yes, while I was indulging myself in parfait and coffee, 30,000ft below me fellow human beings were struggling. Below me people too were eating, but also sleeping, bathing, loving, and working themselves to exhaustion day to day trying to survive. I wondered, perhaps below me someone is looking up. Perhaps one of the 300 million Indians who survive on less than $1 per day was looking up at the lights of an airplane 30,000ft above them saying I wish I were you. Wishing they too had the ability, like an airplane, to so easily leave the location of their origin. Unfortunately, for many Indians and other people in the world I realized they don’t have this choice. Many of them die where they were born watching airplanes fly over their entire life unable to escape the vicious cycle in which they were conceived. The above thoughts really diminished my enjoyment of the food, but as soon as that feeling of guilt was beginning to creep in to me, it was time to land.

We landed at New Delhi airport around 8:30pm and were comfortably transferred to the Hotel Ashok. Once again Semester at Sea spoiled us in our 4 or 5 Star hotel as we were greeted with trays of cold juice, flower necklaces, and a custom made welcome sign. Quite a reception for 70 kids who had not yet really done anything in their lives to deserve this other than being born in the right place, at the right time, to the right people. I settled into my room with my same roommate from the safari whom I am not very fond of. I proceeded to explore some with a friend and we discovered a high class and ritzy Indian fashion show that was taking place in the conference center wing of the hotel. This show would not have been out of place in New York or Paris and was attended by some of the most “renowned” designers, models, and buyers throughout India and the world. I however was out of place wearing blue hiking shoes, nylon shorts, and a yellow Ronaldinho Brazilian soccer jersey. Despite this my friend and I managed to get through security, past the TV cameras, and stand by the entrance to the show. Unfortunately we did not have tickets but did garner lots of attention as two young white ruggedly dressed college students surrounded by hundreds of well groomed and dressed Indians. I prefer to think however that they were just highly impressed with my fashion prowess and strikingly good looks but I will never know for sure. Following the fashion experience I had a beer at the hotel bar and watched the fashion show on TV with some friends before heading to bed early, about 11pm. Indian TV kept me up until about 1am because I was amazed at the variety of the programming. Nickelodeon, Animal Planet, Discovery, History, Cartoon Network, CNN, BBC, and HBO were all available. After watching some Indian MTV and Pirates of the Caribbean I fell asleep. Unfortunately my roommate, who I am not fond of, was kind enough to come in later at 3am drunk with some girl on the trip and attempt some Kama Sutra. I being awake now not so kindly ruined their moment so they creatively proceeded to the bathroom out of “genuine courtesy” of my presence. I did not fall back asleep that night but we had to wake up a 4:15 the next morning so there was not much time available anyways. What a day!!!

MONDAY MARCH 26, 2007
So 4:15 a.m. and the phone rang as expected. I threw some clothes on, skipped the shower, and headed to the lobby to meet the group. We were handed boxed breakfasts on the bus consisting of a doughnut, bread, a nectarine, and some juice. Our group arrived at the New Delhi train station about 5:15am and to my surprise the area was bustling with people. Shops were open, traffic was heavy, beggars were begging, and people were sleeping on the curb. Rows of dozens of homeless people were lined up like body bags ready to go to the morgue. It was a strange sight and I was amazed at these peoples ability to sleep through horns honking, people yelling, and babies crying while lying on hard concrete wrapped head to toe in a dirty blanket. My difficulties sleeping the night before now seemed miniscule. So the train arrived around 5:45 and we were fortunate to have tickets in the nicer comfortable railcar for the two hour ride.

Upon our arrival in Agra we were immediately greeted by even more beggars, street vendors, and our guide. One could not help but feel pity for these people. I observed a man with elephantitis of the feet, another rolling around on a trolley because his legs were paralyzed, and a five or six year old boy holding his one year old sister asking for money. These were sights I would see regularly throughout India and that continue to haunt my mind. The first destination we visited was Fatehpur Sikri which in the 1570’s was the capital of the Mughal Empire in India. It was built by emperor Ashok and consisted of a large palace, many temples, and residences for his three wives and 300 plus concubines. I found it interesting that he purposefully chose his wives faithful to each of the three main religions Islam, Hinduism, and Christianity. This was to ensure his legitimacy of power through marriage. His only legitimate child was with the Hindi wife in an attempt to reconcile Hindu Muslim strife in the empire. I was persistently bothered by an orange haired Muslim man while exploring the abandoned city until I finally gave in and allowed him to guide me on a “private tour.” While slightly annoying he told me about his family and how he has survived by pestering tourists like me for 40 years. I finally gave him 150 Rupees as guilty payment for his services. We then headed towards a local fancy hotel for lunch.

Driving along the road through the countryside the sights, sounds, and smells were clearly not similar to those in the states. Where were the tractors and combines and pickup trucks we would expect in farm country? The few tractors present were used to haul grain and supplies to and from market but the prevalent mode of transportation for this activity was cow drawn cart. I was also curious about the large frequent piles of brown pancakes stacked alongside the road. I would later learn that these were piles of dried and hardened cow manure used mainly for cooking. Indians would burn this dung under a pot to heat water and cook food due to the lack of and cost of other energy sources. I personally would think the smell might perhaps tarnish the taste of the food but maybe that’s what all the spices are for? There was once again an oversupply of delicious food for us at lunch for which I felt spoiled. When leaving the hotel I noticed two sights in the courtyard that seemed strange. The first was two men cutting grass. Normally not a strange sight but these men did not have a lawnmower or even a weed whacker but were cutting the hotel lawn with scissors. At the other end of the lawn I also observed a man holding a leash. At the end of the leash there was not a dog but a baboon. Only in India! I am not sure if the baboon was a guard baboon or perhaps watching over the lawn workers but it did not look very friendly.

We left the hotel and headed to Agra Fort which became the capital of the Mughal Empire after Ashok left Fatehpur Sikri due to a lack of water supplies. It was restored and improved by Ashok but had existed as a defensive fortification in some form since the 11th century. While quite impressive in its own right, we all were distracted by the amazing view of the Taj Mahal approximately three miles away. The fort was interesting and well designed but by then our mind was set on what was to come. Unfortunately as we were leaving the fort a girl became sick and we were delayed for about 30 minutes waiting for her return from the bathroom. Thirty minutes in a bus with “Tourist” on the windshield filled with young Caucasian American college students and yeah, we got noticed. There must have been as many people outside our bus as inside. People were tapping on the windows, asking for money, and calling “My Friend.” I must have made 50 friends that day and I did not even know their names. Except all my new friends wanted to sell me necklaces, Kama Sutra books, figurines, postcards, carvings, and anything else I would give them money for. As many of you know I am pretty frugal and avoided buying anything but it was difficult as one vendor offered to sell me a small magnetic chess set for 5 Rupees or about 15 cents. Finally we headed towards the place we were all looking forward to the most, the Taj Mahal. To get to the Taj we had to board another small electric bus about a half mile from the entrance due to extremist group threats to blow up the structure. Security was extremely tight with armed guards everywhere and metal detectors present at the entrance. Finally after walking through the stone protective walls it was there in front of me. Probably the most majestic structure I have ever seen was right in front of me. But just as I was taking it all in, “My Friend My Friend I take Picture, good price for you.” I was still in India, and we were swarmed by photographers who would take, process, and attempt to sell pictures of you as you left. It reminded me of those cameras strategically placed on roller coasters that take pictures of you regardless of your preference. I proceeded to get some pictures of my own before walking around the premises. This was another of those indescribable sights that I can not really explain but just encourage all of you to see for yourselves. IT IS WORTH IT!!! The monument was built in the 1600’s by the emperor in honor of his wife who died while giving birth to their 14th child. There was supposed to be a perfectly aligned and symmetrical black Taj Mahal across the river but it was never built because the Emperors son seized power and imprisoned his father in Agra fort until his death. The one fact I found very interesting was that the four minarets around the structure were built leaning slightly outwards to prevent collapse on the Taj in the event of an earthquake. We left at late sunset around 7:00pm with some delay due to picture purchasing and headed on our way.

While under the assumption that we were headed directly back to the train station, I learned instead our plans included snack stop. How amusing that our snack stop was at none other than the local Agra Pizza Hut. Now I am not only amazed and somewhat disappointed that we were eating at Pizza Hut but I soon learned that this was no normal Pizza Hut. This was super Pizza Hut compared to those back home. It was a two story building that was cleaner and more modern than any Pizza Hut I had ever known before. Astonished as I was already, during our snack some modern Indian dance music began to play loudly over the sound system. Next thing I know five Indian Pizza Hut employees are performing a modern Indian dance for us between the tables. Now if this isn’t the most obvious example of globalization and the blending of cultures then I don’t know what is. Pizza Hut America … You got some catching up to do!!!
We arrived at the train station once again to the greetings of beggars, hawkers, and street vendors about 8:30 pm. Exhausted from the days activities I was not in the mood for more friends and attempted to avoid their antics. But for some reason one little boy about eight years of age picked me and commenced the most persistent and uncomfortable begging I had experienced my entire life. For about 15 minutes straight this child tapped my waist pointing to my camera, watch, and wallet as suitable gifts for him. I honestly believe this child was in a semi-delirious state because despite my continued “No’s” and “I’m Sorry” he would not give up. As I looked into his eyes I could see the hopelessness and desperation in his soul, and while I did not giving him anything for fear of attracting others, he unknowingly gave something to me, motivation. The motivation and the belief that I can and must as a person of privilege help those less fortunate than myself. And for that lesson and gift I shall be eternally grateful to this persistent child.

We arrived back in New Delhi and proceeded to our hotel but I noticed something during the drive back that I missed in the morning. Glancing out the window I realized the homes we were passing were not the crumbling huts and shacks I had become accustomed to but huge mega mansions surrounded by high walls and gated driveways. These houses would not have surprised me in Beverly Hills but they did seem out of place in New Delhi. I asked my guide who lived in these homes and he said they were the residences of political representatives, ministry heads, and the business elite. How did all these people afford mansions on government salaries? Now while I knew from transparency international and general discussion that India had corruption problems, this was just ridiculous. Never did I think the wealth accumulated by corrupt officials through kickbacks and bribes would be so boldly displayed.
Arriving back at the hotel around midnight I headed directly for bet in an attempt to squeeze out every last minute of sleep before awaking at 6:00am.

TUESDAY MARCH 27, 2007
Up early again, we departed the hotel around 7:00 am for a quick driving tour of New Delhi before our flight to Varanasi. While driving we passed the home of the Prime Minister, the US and Pakistani embassies, some cricket fields, and more corrupt officials mega mansions. The most interesting feature of New Delhi was the manner in which it was designed. It was, like Washington DC, a large area planned out to be the center of government. According to Encarta encyclopedia New Delhi was built between 1912 and 1929 to replace Calcutta as the capital. Apparently it was designed by an English architect so European architectural influence is clearly evident. The streets are also laid out in a radial pattern with large open tree lined boulevards intersecting at well manicured roundabouts. Our one stop in New Delhi was at the War Memorial Arch. This is a commemorative arch honoring the Indian soldiers who died in World War I fighting for the British in Europe. Many thousands of Indians died in the trenches of World War I fighting for the nation that occupied them at the time, Great Britain. The arch was very similar to the Arc de Triumph in Paris except smaller and surrounded by large grass fields instead of a huge roundabout.

We arrived in Varanasi that afternoon after experiencing the fastest and hardest landing of my life. I don’t know if they are worried about surface to air missiles or something but man do planes land fast in India. While leaving the airport there was a sign that caught my attention that read, “Say No to Torture.” I felt fortunate that our society had moved past anti torture campaigns and can now focus more on saying no to drugs. Yes I do realize that domestic violence still occurs in our country but the sign caught me off guard. One of the first things I noticed driving towards our hotel was that this city had cows. The roaming holy cow density had increased considerably in this ancient holy city. We ate lunch and unpacked at our luxurious Radisson hotel before heading to the holy site of Sarnath. This is where Buddha (aka Siddhartha) gave his first sermon describing the four noble truths and eight fold path to his first five followers during the 5th century B.C. While very fascinating from a historical and geographic perspective there was not much to see at the sight because everything was destroyed by Muslim invaders. We were also once again harassed by street vendors and kids looking for money.

After visiting Sarnath some friends and I paid for a taxi, known as a rickshaw in India. It is basically a small three wheeled powered go-cart. Rickshaws are without a doubt the most dangerous form of transportation known to man. No seat belts, no doors, and six people traveling up to 45mph passing within inches of motorcycles, bicycles, pedestrians, and cows. We headed towards the Ganges River to observe an evening Hindi ritual along the river. As we approached, the road became narrower and the crowds denser until we finally had to walk the last quarter mile or so to the river. We passed many street vendors, beggars, and more cows before arriving alongside the Ganges. Along the river we watched a group of Hindis perform a cleansing ritual consisting of prayers, candle lighting, chanting, and bell ringing. It was a fascinating ritual to watch and I found it particularly funny that one boat on the Ganges had set up a billboard on deck behind the ritual selling water front property. The rickshaw ride back to the hotel that night was one of the biggest adrenaline rushes I have ever had. It was right up there with skydiving and I was literally scared for my life. Our driver would have made a great NASCAR driver because the speed and distance between which we were passing people was terrifying. I personally prefer more than 3” of clearance when squeezing between a pedestrian and another rickshaw at 35mph. Somehow we survived and spent the evening relaxing at the hotel and trying to get some rest. Except for my roommate coming in drunk again to cuddle with some new girl at 3 am I slept great.

MARCH 28, 2007
Up again at 4:15 am but for the experience I would have that morning it was well worth it. Today we were to have an early morning sunrise boat ride down the Ganges River. We boarded the busses, drove towards the river, and again walked the last quarter mile to the banks of the Ganges. Again I was convinced that people don’t sleep in this city because shops were open and vendors were wide awake trying to sell us stuff. We all boarded into two large boats holding about 30 people each and then departed. These were not motor boats as you might have imagined, but large row boats powered by two older frail looking men. The air was cool and crisp as the sun began to rise over the horizon and the sights I would see will remain engrained in my memory forever. Silence was all that could be heard except for a flute player on shore, Hindis splashing water while bathing, and the sound of bamboo paddles pulling us slowly through the water. As we drifted down the river the sights began to change and I observed two or three fires burning along the river. These were not fires to keep warm or to cook with but for cremations. Apparently it is considered an honor to be cremated and have ones ashes put into the Ganges. I watched as two men picked up a dead body and moved it towards a fire in preparation for its cremation. I thought how amazing it was to see this ritual that had taken place unchanged for thousands of years. It gave me a new appreciation for the scope and timelength of history and culture in this part of the world. Moving back up the river we were enjoying the sights and next thing I know “My Friend, My Friend.” You have got to be kidding me I thought, but sure enough some young boys had paddled up beside us in a small boat trying to sell us stuff. Their effort paid off as many people began to buy souvenirs. Just as this was going on I heard our guide casually say something I will never forget. “Dead body over there, dead body floating.” Sure enough as I turned my head there was a dead body wrapped up floating in the river about 30 yards from our boat. This must be the only place in the world where a dead body floating down a river is not considered to be a big deal. Again it is part of their religion and culture so instead of calling the police as I would do in any other location in the world, I took a picture. The morning river boat ride along the Ganges River was the most surreal experience of my life thus far, and a moment I will never forget.

We returned to the hotel for breakfast about 9:00 am to check out of our rooms then proceed to the airport. I spoke with a Norwegian couple on holiday for about 30 minutes before boarding our flight. The rest of the day was uneventful as we flew from Varanasi to New Delhi, then back to Chennai. I tried to reconcile in my mind the experiences of the last three days but fell asleep instead. I arrived back on ship around 9:00 pm and finally went to sleep around 11 pm to prepare for my last day in Chennai.

MARCH 29, 2007
On my last day in Chennai I participated in a socio-economic tour of a poverty stricken area of the city. We left the ship at 7:30 am and arrived around 9:30 am in a supposedly poor area of the city. To my surprise the conditions in this neighborhood were not as desperate as some places I had seen before but the experience was still very valuable. The area basically consisted of a few hundred acres where the government had come in to provide housing for these poor families. The buildings were all concrete two story setups with a private residence on top and another below. Each room was about 15’ long by 8’ wide and had electricity but no running water. Apparently the residents would claim ownership if they paid R150 (approx $4) per month to the government for twenty years. It seemed like a great idea to me in order to help these poorer people build financial equity in this unequal society.

After a short speech and question answer session in the community center we proceeded to walk to the primary school down the street. The school was in no way similar to schools in the states but consisted of a concrete room with no door and open square holes for windows. Inside were about 60 children sitting cross legged on the floor in perfect rows. The first thing I noticed was that the room was divided down the middle with boys on the right and girls on the left. The children were the most well behaved and disciplined I had ever met. They remained sitting on the hard concrete floor focusing on the teacher until she allowed them to interact with us. However, once she gave way we quickly became the main attraction. Next thing I know we were treated like rock stars and the mission of these children became to get an autograph from all of us. Seeing as most of them could not read or speak English and that we were not famous I did not understand the autograph hysteria, but I proceeded to sign about 120 notebooks and hands for the next 15 minutes. I then requested a map from the teacher and she brought one in from the other classroom. I enjoyed very much showing the children where Raleigh was on the world map in relation to Chennai and all were amazed. We left the school house but I managed to speak to an English speaking teacher for a few minutes about education in India. She was telling me how many of these children were hoping and studying to be trained and employed in IT jobs later in life. She seemed extremely confident and proud of these children’s abilities and prospects for a better life in the future. I also found it interesting that when telling her I studied Economics she asked about my knowledge of Amartya Sen. I told her I knew him but could not remember his arguments but I could tell that this lady was well educated and Amartya Sen well renowned in India.

We visited a private home afterwards and I was amazed at the items that lay within it. The first thing I saw was the 21” or so color television with cable. They had all types of stations including CNN, BBC, MTV India, and many of the stations I discovered in the hotel earlier. It will be interesting to see if resentment swells among the poorer people in the world as their access to knowledge of the wealth and lifestyles in the western world grows. These people also had a refrigerator and an electric cooking plate. What I found missing however in this 15’ long by 8’ wide room was a bed. This couple still, despite the nice appliances they owned, did not own a bed but still slept wrapped in blankets on the concrete floor. I inquired into their family life seeing three pictures on the wall and I learned they had two children. The hopeful part for me was that when I asked if they planned on having any more children the husband and wife strongly indicated NO, two children was enough. Hopefully more people will reach this conclusion soon before we get beyond the earths capacity to sustain us all. Solving the high fertility rate problem along with the West’s over consumption of resources, in my opinion, are the most pressing issues concerning the planets ability to sustain our species today.
One final experience I would like to share occurred as I attempted to purchase some candy from a street vendor. I approached an old frail lady about 60 years of age who was selling a small collection of foods displayed under a dilapidated thatch shack. After examining the products I became interested in some sealed candy packets hung over a branch. She allowed me to taste one and they were delicious so I attempted to purchase an entire rope of these candies. I handed her the candy and R50 which I assumed would cover the price and leave her some extra as a gift. She took the candy and money but instead just looked at me with a funny smile on her face. She then hands me three pieces of candy removed from the rope and the R50 I had just given her. I attempted to tell her that the money was for her but she continued to refuse payment. I finally gave in to her persistent pressure and took back the money I had given her. Walking away from her I was inspired by such a generous and selfless act. Why would an old poor lady refuse payment from someone like me who was clearly willing and able to pay? Like the child at the train station, this lady gave me something more than just free candy. This act of kindness by someone with so little renewed my faith in the good nature inherent in all human beings. It reminded me that what is important in this world is not how much stuff you have but the respect and empathy we hold for one another. I concluded ithout respect and love for one another we all truly have nothing.

While leaving the community we were once again surrounded by smiling energetic children who had just been dismissed from school. With our celebrity status revived I once again proceeded to sign more autographs and pick some children up in display of my “amazing strength.” I was shaking hands with children and smiling residents when an older man stopped me close to the bus. He showed me some letters he had received from past Semester at Sea students who visited his community and told me he had no gas for his rickshaw. I gave him R100 to buy gas and he thanked me profusely. He then kept bowing and thanking me saying how I was a god to him. Me a God? This comment for some reason motivated me to spontaneously give a short speech to him and the people around me assuring them that I was not a god nor any better than he or anyone else in this world. I felt like a preacher as I loudly declared to the group around me how we were all equal, all unique, and all human beings that must focus on the similarities and not the differences between us in order to ensure happiness and prosperity for all in the future.

Finally, after boarding the bus we were once again surrounded, but for a change people were not selling stuff or begging to us. In this community people had surrounded us in thanks and respect of our visit and to say goodbye. I was extremely happy for this experience during my last hours in India. This community had renewed my faith in the goodness of humanity and the mutual respect we could have for one another. With these final images in my head I boarded the ship that afternoon with a smile on my face and thanks for all India had given me.