March 16, 2008

Udaipur, Rajasthan

So we've been touring around the state of Rajasthan in the west part of India. It's kahaki desert landscape is offset by the fantastic colors of women’s’ saris. We splurged andhired a car with driver. Our driver’s name is Beer. We’ve made it to near the border of Pakistan far out in the Thar desert. The weather is starting to get hot and it is really dry. Camel carts are common on the main roads, and peoples main business seems to be tending goats. There is a lot of army in this area and fighter jets are common overhead. Tourism is pretty big here too. We’ve seen some big old forts and walled cities left over from the times of the Maharajas. We went for a camel ride and spent the night out in the desert under the stars. It was quite romantic trudging through the desert at night with the only sound being the bell on the camel’s neck and the soft “hut hut” of the driver.

People are friendly. All the time we are asked our names and which country we’re from. We must strike an odd couple because young girls have a little laugh whenever we walk by. Our health is OK (knock on wood) and the shock of the everyday chaos is wearing off. Like after 50 or so suicide passes on the road you kind of get used to it. We plan on heading to Bodhgaya and the school soon. We’re schlepping around a desk top computer and some books, etc. so it will be nice to get there. Were looking forward to seeing the school and the teachers and children.

Cheers Sheri & Curtis

March 20, 2008

Photo: Curtis, Sheri and Beer Singh in Jaipur, Rajasthan, India

Hey Y'all

We're ending our tour of Rajasthan and catching a night train from Dehli to Gaya tonight. Tomorrow is "Holi", a Hindu festival where people go crazy and throw colored water and powder on everyone. I've been through one of these before and I'm bracing myself. Sheri and I rode an elephant up to a big fort in Jaipur. It was highly touristy but good fun. Our drive from Udaipur to Pushkar was probably one of the most stressful drives I've experienced. The road is a truck route so was heavily trafficked and maybe it was better to just read a book rather than look out the wind screen and see what was going on. Passing and being passed, passing right, passing left, three way passing, and the occasional lunitic, straight up, driving on the wrong side. On a particularly curvie narrow section a man was pushing a bicycle rigshaw loaded with little elephant statues up hill, taking the lane.

Well the next entry will be from Bodhgaya and we'll have something more relevant to say about the school, the teachers, and the children.

Cheers to all.

Delhi Night Train

Photo: Elephant Festival Jaipur

We visited the starting of the elephant festival in Jaipur. We had some time to kill before we saw any elephants. We walked down a side street, all commotion and noise. As we walked a chanting procession passed by bearing a litter for a dead man. He looked quite young.


We caught a night train from Dehli. We entered the station and had a Pepsi in the refreshment room until they kicked us out. Apparently no waiting in the refreshment room. We waited below a reader board until our train platform number was displayed. Train 2802, the Purshott Express. A man with a badly injured right eye squatted before us, put his hands in prayer position and asked for some rupees. The hall was filled with people. The two dozen lower class booking windows had lines thirty deep. Dozens of people were spiraled around on the floor. Hard to say if they were waiting there or living there.


At the platform, Platform 4, it was full of people and luggage. We picked a dusty spot on the concrete and sat on our luggage, waiting. Scurrying around the train wheels and all along the tracks were scores of rats, some running up on the platform. A friendly dog followed me around as I went to find our names on a posted list. I must look like an easy mark. A blind man came taping his stick and holding a can in his hand and repeating something bizarre. He bumped into our luggage and then went around and bumped into something else. The loud speakers were continuously making announcements, none of which I could understand.

The train arrived. Sheri was worried because there was a 100-yard long line in front of our coach, but they were getting on the general seating coach next to ours. Our 2 tier AC class coach was fine. People in our couch were chatting on cell phones and texting. By the time we pulled out of the station the people in general seating were hanging out of the doors. Overlooking the grime and the cockroaches and the occasional mouse our 17-hour train ride from Delhi to Gaya was comfortable.


We arrived at the dusty train station in Gaya, Bihar in the heat of the afternoon. The tuk- tuk stand was unusually quiet because of the ‘Holi” holiday. We were quoted ten times the normal rate for a ride to Bodhgaya by grimy men covered in the colors of Holi. We attempted negotiations and waited around. Nearby a boy with a crippled leg was having a wrestling match with a boy with one arm. They rolled in the dust. The crippled boy got the upper hand by smacking down hard with his crutches. Cripple boy got up and ran by us and then savagely hit a lame dog. Cripple boy came up behind us and started to say something, and then something more in a very course way. His face had so much color from Holi that it had blended to a muddy dusty black. The crowd laughed. Sheri closed the negotiations for two and a half times the normal rate and we slipped away.


The tuk-tuk went on one back road to another odd lane to a bumpy track and back again. Bodhgaya? I asked. Yeah the driver said. He was avoiding the main road because he thought his tuk-tuk might be damaged by out of control Holi revelry. We arrived at our guesthouse in Bodhgaya just in time for Curtis to run to the toilet.

Touch Down Bodhgaya

Photo: Downtown Gaya, Bihar. The nicest part. Watch your step.

We visited Sheri’s School in Bakrour (Sajata) Village. Promid was at the guesthouse early in the morning. We walled over together. It’s a wide stretch of sandy flood plain and dry riverbed from Bodhgaya to Bakrour. As we approached we could see the school. It’s clean beige lines sitting above the riverbank. A good sight. They welcomed us with broad smiles all around. School was out because of the ‘Holi’ holiday. The nine boy orphans who live there were ecstatic to see Sheri. They were made to stand at attention and recited their names and answered questions in English. At the first down time they swarmed Sheri. They were bright and well kept and adorable. They live in one room with a caretaker and the school guard. One poor boy suffers the affects of polio. We all shared breakfast and a cup of chai on the roof top kitchen area.

We met with Promid andMahmod and talked and decided a few things one of them being setting up a computer with internet access. So no time like now. Promid and another man and us hopped into a tuk-tuk and went to Gaya. We arrived in the main shopping area which was really dirty and fully Indian. We bought a monitor, a universal power supply, a blue tooth antennae, 150 school uniforms, a cell phone, and looked at a generator. We visited the dingy office of the school’s accountant and went over a stack of receipts and a salary book. After we had a crazy tuk-tuk ride in the dark back to Bakrour. We were all dirty and exhausted. They greeted us at the school with smiles and a roof top dinner and a peaceful cup of chai. Looking over the river towards Bodhgaya we were very happy that the school is located in this peaceful village.

March 26, 2008

Photo: Promid intoduces Sheri to a first grade student.

This morning we walked across the river to the school with two Americans we met in the street (Cat and Dan from Idaho). We were greeted by the commotion of a school full of children. We visited each class and talked to each teacher. After, we walked to the Sujata temple and visited the two classes that were taking place there. We returned and had lunch at the main school. We wasted a lot of time setting up the computer and attempting to connect to the internet.

The following day was something similar except we visited Busari village where the third branch of the school exists.

Well the news is good. After eight years the school has progressed.

The school foundation owns free and clear a plot of land and a one story building.

At the school building six teaches hold class for 60 students aged 6 to 15, grades 1 to 5. Nine boy orphans live at the school and are provided a safe and clean place to live. They receive food and medical care. They seem happy.

At Sujata temple two teachers provide kindergarten like classes to 80 young children in two donated rooms.

At Busari village we found 130 children aged 6 to 12 being given late after noon “coaching” (2 to 3 hours per day) in English, math, science by 4 female teachers in a house donated by one of the teachers.

As far as we can tell most all the money donated has gone towards the education of the children or the purchase of land and construction of the school. We have asked around and all reports are that the school is reputable and is providing a reasonable level of education.

In Bend Oregon the above would be considered normal or even unacceptable. In the state of Bihar, India all of the above is literally a miracle!

Thanks to all, we are very lucky.

First grade student

Introduction to Computer headache

Children at Busari village school

Packed in like sardines.

Sheri with some of the orphans

March 31, 2008

Photo: Some of the beautiful teachers that came to lunch

Well things are progressing in Bodhgaya at the Bakrour school.
But instead how about a story. The other morning I went to take a shower. We flip on the switch to the water heater on for a few minutes and then we have hot water. I flipped the switch, waited, turned on the hot, mixed with cold, fabulous. In the afternoon I was all sweaty and grimy, so wanting a cold shower I didn't flip on the switch. I turned on the cold and out came blasting scalding hot water. Scalded, I turned off the cold and turned on the hot, out came cold water. Hmmmm. Apparently the "cold" water was sitting in a black tank on the roof all day getting scalding hot, and the "hot" was sitting in an insulated water tank in our bathroom all day staying nice and cool. Only in India can hot and cold water switch during the day.

We had a board meeting with the school's board and all the staff. They requested many things. Some we accepted, others we rejected and some we said we would have to take to a higher authority. All the things they requested were reasonable. Stuff like there are four teachers at Busardi but only 2 chairs so there wanted two more chairs. The roof leaks. They want books. They want more salary.

We bought lunch for the school today. The cooks arrived early. They built there own stove out of mud and bricks. They used charcoal. Five men chopped up fresh vegetables, ground there own masala spice, made bread and served 160 meals. Price $77.00 everything included.

We are doing stuff at the school everyday. It's tiring, but a good tiring. We met another traveler and brought her to the school. She broke down and cried. I guess the experience reminder her of her own simple eduction she had in Guyana, South America.

One little girl we adore. Her name is Pinky. She is so bright and sharp. She tries so hard. She walks straight backed and fast and wearing the same two year old school uniform everyday.

April 5, 2008

Photo: Our friendly and beautiful teacher 'Sonali' on the rooftop with the kids.

Cheers to All:
We finished week two in Bodhgaya, but we still have a lot of things to do. Sheri is a now a notable personality in Bakrour village. Strangers introduce themselves, or during conversation they'll say "oh! so you're Sheri gee". When we arrive at one end of the village, the far end of the village knows about it. We've been here long enough so that the little touts and pesky little street salesmen don't waste their time on us.

We're been getting some stuff for the school, and dealing with delays, and we're being familiarized with the headaches of cell phone internet, blue tooth technology, power and water storages, uninterrupted power suppliers, and battery and inverter systems. I think the simple things are best, like we bought a cricket bat for the kids and they loved it. Curtis rode on the back of a 100 cc motorcycle from Gaya with a load of books on his lap.

We had some weather the other night. It blew hard and rained a lot. The bazaar road in town switched from a dusty mess to a gooey wet mess. Power was out at the school more than usual so therefore they ran out of water. It's not easy being an orphan at the school, but in India, the alternatives can be unspeakable. The children at the school are made so happy with just the smallest touch or smile. They are so genuine.

Thanks to you all.

(And for those so inclined, tip a cold one for us)

April 7, 2008

Photo: Our new sign on the School.

It's starting to get hot.

We've made some progress. We were able to have installed a battery - inverter setup to power the school during the daily electrical outages. This is enough to power a fan, a couple of lights, and a PC for eight hours before needing to be recharged. The installation involved alot of shouting and stamping of feet, multiple cell phone calls, and many fantastical discussions. The quality of work, appalling. But this is what happens here in India. I was quite worried about the fragility of the equipment, but it was given the acid test. Within 2 minutes of the inverter system being switched on a compact florescent light bulb experienced a short circuit condition. The circuit fuse is rated at 32 amps and didn't blow so a huge load, far beyond the capacity of the battery system, was applied, right out of the box. Fortunately the system protected itself and shut down. I think a few short years ago this technology was not available and the whole thing would have been wrecked.

We have been toiling trying to get Internet at the school. Our blue tooth antennae had a bug and was not working properly. We were able to have a computer guy come to the school. He is tall and handsome, well dressed, friendly, and a complete computer geek. Somehow some software was misplaced. So while Sheri stalled the guy, Curtis sprinted from the school across the dry river bed through the Bazaar, bought a blue tooth device, negotiated a tuk-tuk ride and rushed back before the man left. After hours and hours we connected to the net, albeit dial up, we are connected.

We brought a couple of coffee table 'Oregon' photo books. While going through them with a boy called Dhramdra we came to a photo of a lighthouse dramatically perched above the Pacific. The concept of an ocean is a bit difficult to explain to a boy from Bihar, but he asked a telling question. "What god is worshiped in this temple?". I looked at the photo and it appeared to me in a whole new way.

At some moments it's a little discouraging to see how completely f'ed up everything is. The Bihar government is a complete failure. We visited the government school that two of the orphans will be attending. It's new but unfinished. Most of the widows are broken, there are no lights in the fixtures, crap and feted water was standing all around. A dog with a huge stomach tumor was laying beside the hand water pump. The Rise Up school, though quite simply is better than this.

April 9, 2008

Photo: Sheri and the kids in uniform.

Today Sheri and I passed out uniforms to the students. It was supposed to be easy. A tailor had measured the children. A list collating student names to shirt and pant /dress size was not included. The delivered uniforms contained 150 shirts, 94 dresses and 53 pairs of shorts for 54 girls and 88 boys. All the shorts were sized extra small. So the chaos began. It took hours to hand out what we could and figure out what was needed. Sheri was thoroughly pissed but got over it once she saw packs of kids running around in their uniforms. Each with a small Rise Up crest on the pocket.

After reviewing where the two orphan boys (Niraj and Dharmendra) who are graduating from grade five and leaving the Rise Up school (but not the orphanage) will be attending (the government school) we decided that it would be better for them to attend private school. Trust me private school is not fancy but I feel that to give them the best chance possible they should go there. They are taking an entrance examination tomorrow. I figure with admission fees, monthly fees, books, uniforms, bus fee, etc. the cost for one year should be about 10,000 rupees (about $260). Maybe they could get sponsorship (hint, hint). My feeling is that we should commit to these nine orphan boys to get them through grade 10 (which is one sort of cut off point in India). Since they are orphans my feeling is that they will need a little extra something to have the chance to succeed since they don't have the family network which really is the backbone of Indian culture ( much more so than in the USA).

Cheers to all.

April 10, 2008

Photo: Ladies carrying baskets of dried cow manure.

Well yesterday we set in motion our plan to send two of the orphan boys (Niraj and Dharemendra) to private school. Our hope is that they will succeed and be able to help the other children and teachers especially with their English. Just filling out he admission application raised many questions. Like the boys have no idea when they were born. Curtis took the twos boys and the school principal, Uprendra, first by bicycle rickshaw then by auto rickshaw to the School (Manav Bharti School). 10 adults and 2 children and several large sacks rode in the small three wheeled vehicle. The children were interviewed at the school. The admission officer was sympathetic. The verdict - the children are at grade level but their English is lacking. We had discussions and a program was developed and the children were admitted to class VI. These children face huge challenges to succeed at the school but we think that this is best course for them (we hope). Curtis prepaid for one years tuition for the two. Curtis and the others went Gaya to buy uniforms, backpacks, water bottles, books, supplies, lunch boxes, and a wristwatch for Niraj and Dharemendra. They were thrilled to put on their first pair of shoes.

Indians are tough. In Gaya, Curtis suffered under the heat and toxic effects of the contaminated environment of the streets. Everybody else seemed unaffected. We ate at a singularly unappetizing restaurant. In the baking sun we stepped across a large open sewer to enter. Liquid was running down the steps to the door. Inside was dingy and filled with men and flys. Several kerosene stoves were burning and the center piece was a charcoal fired stove with a enormous wok filled with boiling oil. The restrauant was full so we stood until some spots opened. The floor was blackened and cracked. Men had there heads low over their plates, shoveling in food with their hands in the Indian way. The power was out so it was dim and the ceiling fans were off. We sat. I turned down the Curd (liquid yoghurt poured over some sort of ball) and opted for the geasy bread like stuff and veg liquid with chick peas. Everything was extremely hot. They brought steel glasses and pitches of water. I was overheating but dared not drink. We ate and left after washing our fingers with glasses of water on the steps. The bill for four - 25 rupees - 62 cents.

April 14, 2008

Photo: Curtis and some school lads.


Sheri and I were invited to a school sporting day at the private school where we enrolled two of the orphan boys, Niraj and Dharmendra. It was roasting hot as we got out of the tuk-tuk and walked into the Army parade ground used for the event. As we approached the rear of the podium young boys started surrounding us, asking all types of questions and practicing their English. The required uniform for the day was white shirt, white pants and shoes with blue tie. A man came and gave us a box of sweets. “Breakfast” he said.Niraj and Dharmendra appeared out of the crowd and they seemed happy although they were not participating in any events.Boys were running on the rough grass field in sprints and 400 meter events. Girls participated too in long white skirts. They had a hurddles event where they used wooden benches, but they where short a few so some runners had a lot less hurddles to clear. About 30 boys at a time would crowd around us for a time until a teacher would come with a switch and they cleared out in a hurry. They had a teacher’s race and then a male parent/guardian sprint. Curtis copped out because of the heat. But it was a true Indian affair. Half the men ran barefoot. After a few false starts they were off. The crowd moved forward and a portion of the spectator's tent collapsed. Midway there were bodies rolling on the ground and sandals flying in the air. It all ended in a huge cloud of dust. Next event was a female parent/guardian race. Sheri couldn’t wait to take the field. She lined up with the others all in their saris and at the command started to sprint. Unfortunately it was a walking race. The loud speaker bellowed “No running, no running”. Sheri slowed and was passed by some others who were “walking” suspiciously fast.

April 19, 2008

Photo: Wedding reception and meat feast area.

It’s getting hot, high 90’s maybe touching 100 at midday. Not many places available to try refuge.

We were invited to a wedding last night by Shawan, a travel agent. We bought some Indian clothes and three of us rode on a motorcycle over to the groom’s house. The wedding takes 4 or 5 days. This was day 1 where the male relatives of the bride go over to the groom’s family house and give him all the dowry presents. We had a friendly greeting and were seated in the entryway and each given as small box with sweets. We ate and a 13 year old boy befriended us. He showed us all around. Many people were walking around in the two story, middle class house. We went to the room where the old women were sitting and laying around, and another where women and children were putting on make up and laying out children’s clothes. We went to a courtyard where 10 or 12 men were cooking vast amounts of food and finally to the reception area were a dozen servers were waiting around. We went back inside and talked to people and later Shawan came in and we went to eat. Our young guide called it a meat feast since chicken, fish, and goat was being served. Only men were eating, standing around and eating with their hands. I guess women eat after the men. It was good and we had some ice cream to top it off. It was time to go to the rooftop where the groom and a priest and an old woman were making puja (prayers). The old women had painted the feet of all of the married women red. Since feet are dirty this is a low caste job. After a while bed covers where were spread out on the ground and people started arriving. The women, in their best saris, started singing non-melodic songs. The roof started filling up and then the male relatives of the bride arrived. They had coolies carry up the gifts. The prize gift appeared to be a flat screen TV.They also brought their own priest and videographer and light man. The priests started their throat praying and the women sang and a man played a drum in the street and the CD player played Hindi pop. People sat around and chatted on cell phones. After this a man from the bride’s party sat before the groom who held out his cupped hands and remained emotionless. He placed one gift after another into the groom’s hands and each was removed by a withered old man sitting at the groom’s side.Water jug, iron, food processor, platter, cups, all the things for a household. There was a pause and little cups of ice cream were handed out. It was a hot night and ice cream was good. Everybody dropped the empty cups on the ground. Things picked up again and the priests made more puja and rice was thrown on the groom. A man in the back fired a shotgun in the air. Then one man after another started whipping rupee notes around the groom’s head and then paid the videographer, coolies, priests and the old low caste women with the notes. Things started to breakup. Curtis went forward a dropped an envelope with 201 rupees into the groom’s hands. He accepted it silently.

April 22, 2008

Photo: Saying goodbye on the dry riverbed

After one month in Bohdgaya and Bakrour village we finally left the school. They arranged a little send off for us. Some kids danced, one of the teachers with a fine voice sang love song, we had soft drinks, they put flower garlands around our necks, then each orphan came and gave us a handful of flower petals or a little drawing and hugged us. It was hard for Sheri to leave. The orphans and some students followed us halfway across the dry river and then turned back. They were really sad, and Sheri was emotional. It's hard to think about those little guys, nine of them living in one hot room, only being cared for by men, not really having the special love that Sheri gave them. Three little guys would fight just to hold Sheri's hand. But on the other hand without Sheri they wouldn't even have what little they do have. Sheri's and Rise Up's efforts directly affect around 300 people.

Saying Goodbye to BodhiGaya

Photo: The gang from Hari Om restaurant.

Sheri and Curtis ate at Hari Om restaurant on a regular basis while they were in Bodhgaya. The guys their were very friendly and helpful. Jotyi, the main man had good advice and a great sense of humor, Mahindra built several pieces of furniture for the school, and Sharavan went to town with us on shopping trips where he bargained hard. They gave us free rides around, and especially a nice midnight ride to the train station. They tried out new food on us and everything settled well.

Thanks & Cheers HARI OM

April 27, 2008

RISE UP


We have arrived back to simmering Delhi. On our way we stopped by the new age Hindu pilgrimage center of Rishikesh and the refreshing hill town of Musooie. We rode a very civilized AC night train, and the usual selection of filthy buses and crazy tuk-tuks. Arriving in Delhi we were met full on by the unpleasant touts, scammers and con men who greet every foreigner at the bus and train stations. But now we could ignore the fake ticket offices, the bogus hotels, the rip off travel agents, the over priced taxis, and instead proceed confidently telling them to buzz off, bite me, and get the hell out of the way. And of course we made bee line to a real cafe for a real latte.


Sizing up our experiences in Bodhgaya and Bakrour village we composed a letter to the board of the school and orphanage summarized as follows.


First we want to emphasize the school should be providing quality education to the children. Some ways we proposed to do this was to: limit class size; train our teachers; motivate, promote and retain quality teachers by offering better salary; improve the quality of the school & orphanage environment by adding the second story and improving the water and electrical situation. We also want to develop a plan for supporting the orphans.


To these ends we hired a local English teacher to teach English to our teachers 2 days a week. We provided education books and CD’s. We asked the board to come up with a proposal for teacher skill building seminars. Admission to the school was closed, children were turned away from attending the school. This was not easy for the staff to do.


We had discussions about at what age or grade level the orphans should be allowed to stay or move on to make room for new orphans. The board wanted to add more orphans, but Sheri and I thought that we should be focusing on quality of care for a limited number of orphans. Sheri and I are supporting the education of two of the orphans in private school.


All of the above costs money. Realistically we need $1000 per month to keep the school (250 students) and orphanage (9 children) operating. To add the second story we need at least $15,000. Once the second story in complete, most likely we’ll need more staff. Also prices of everything in India are rising fast. There are experiencing an inflationary period (7 to 8 percent per year). So in reality we will need something like $1500 per month in the near future. We are proposing individual sponsorship for each orphan so they came be as prepared as possible for the future ($300 per year for education, and some other amount for their care).


It is a very strange feeling trying to plan for the future and create a realistic budget for these children. A few hundred dollars more or less means that a child could be denied decent food and clothes or 10 children won’t be able to go to school or maybe they will. Our teachers are only making about $30 to 40 dollars per month. They should be paid a lot more. They are barely making it. All this requires a close examination of ones ethics and principles and sometimes the picture isn’t so easy to accept and everything isn’t so clean and nice. It is very tiring. But doing something is better than doing nothing. So everyone please RISEUP.

Cinco de Mayo 2008

Photo: Painted Elephant Eye

We rolled back into Bend last Friday. We enjoy breathing clean air and the light traffic on the roads. Driving was boring. Except for Curtis made a roadside charitable donation. His ‘91 Ford Taurus wagon gave up the ghost on I-5 in Tualatin on the way to Bend. Sheri came by and he flagged her down. Curtis called the Salvation Army then the tow company then the Salvation Army then the tow company. They agreed to tow the car to the donation place for free. Curtis left the keys on the floorboard and drove off before the tow truck arrived, and didn't look back. Curtis felt good, his load lightened, one less thing, and maybe someone at Salvation Army is benefiting.

**** Take note, RISE UP is throwing a shindig in Downtown Bend. ****

FRIDAY, MAY 9th, 6:30 PM

THE NEW POET HOUSE ART STUDIO

856 NW BOND STREET
ABOVE NORWALK FURNITURE

LIBATIONS. FOOD. ART. BE THERE

Sheri and Curtis will have a small display about the Rise Up India School.

Cheers