Go Goa!

After my last day on the 26th of February, I was feeling very sad and I knew I had to do something to snap myself out of my gloomy mood. Two other Nanubhai teachers had left for Goa on the 27th and they had invited me to go, but initially I declined. Goa is located in the South of India and is known for its beautiful beaches, party scene, and as a place to unwind and relax. Goa was now sounding like the perfect place to go. On the afternoon of the February 28, I looked for tickets and found two; one to take me from Surat to Bombay, and the other to take me from Bombay to Madgaon. I bought my tickets at 3:00pm and I had to be at the train station at 11pm to catch my train. I did a fast packing job and was waiting for a bus by 9:30pm.

When I finally boarded the train at 12am I was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep for long. My train was scheduled to arrive in Bombay at 4am, and then I would have 7 hours to kill until my next train. When the train pulled into Bombay I had to navigate the city commuter trains to get to the next train station, which was confusing, especially in my sleep deprived state. Three commuter trains later and I was finally at the LTT station, where I now had 5 hours to kill before the next train. I was exhausted now and was looking for a spot on the ground to curl up when I saw a room with the sign “Ladies Waiting Room.” Curious, I peeked inside. There were two very old ladies inside and it looked relatively clean. I picked a corner, laid out a plastic bag, and tried to sleep. Sleep was difficult as women streamed in and out and the early morning sun shone into my face. One woman saw me smile at her baby so she walked over and thrust it into my hands. I then became the babysitter for her pantless and diaperless baby for the next 45 minutes while she washed dishes and clothes in the sink.

At 10:30am on the 1st I boarded my 12 hour train and was happy to find that I had the top bunk. This meant that I could sleep undisturbed for as long as I wanted, which turned out to be 7 hours. I eventually climbed down and had a delicious dinner of crackers. The train was scheduled to arrive at 11pm and in my haste to prepare for the trip I had no time to research the city of Madgaon. From Madgaon I would need to take a two hour bus to Palolem Beach, but no buses would be running so late at night. I was now faced with the decision to either sleep on the ground in the train station, or venture out into the unknown streets for a hotel. In my anxiety I had been praying a lot on my train rides because I really had no idea what to expect or what I would do upon arrival.

Thankfully, before the train arrived I started talking to an Indian man in my compartment named Thomas. He was 45 and a self-proclaimed Roman Catholic and he would not allow me to sleep in the station. Together, we walked the darkened streets in search of a decent hotel. When we found one, he booked two rooms and paid for them both. He then insisted on taking me to get something to eat because he had seen me eating only crackers all day. The next morning he brought me chai, took me to breakfast, and then put me on a bus to Palolem. I feel so blessed to have met Thomas!

Goa was ruled by the Portuguese and they lent their architecture and religion to the region, giving it a distinct flavor which felt so different from any other part of India I have seen. There were many large, beautiful cathedrals, and even the style of dress was different. There were fewer saris and more skirt and blouse combinations. After five train rides and a beautiful bus ride, I arrived in Palolem where I met up with Kathryn and Addaia. We went to our beach hut, which was precariously perched (partly) in a tree. One side of the hut was supported by the small tree, and the other three sides were supported by bamboo. When we walked around in the hut it would creak and move and I began to have flashes of our eminent death due to beach hut collapse.

We retreated from our rickety hut and headed to the beach for some sand and sun. It was very strange for me to put on a bikini. After nine months of being wrapped up in yards of fabric and always being completely covered, wearing a bikini was like being naked to me, not to mention the ghastly color of white my body had turned. The water was so warm it was like bath water and the beach was lined by restaurants and bars offering tempting items for three girls from Gujarat. We spent several days lazing around, reading books, playing cards, drinking lassies, and decompressing from a challenging year. I literally kicked off my shoes and I spent five days without wearing them.

After a week on the beach it was time to bid the sand and sun farewell. I headed back up to Bombay to meet up with Kirsten and Meghan for what would be another difficult time…see the blog below to learn more.

Beautiful Bollywood

After hanging out in Goa for a week I ended up in Bombay to meet up with my roommates Meghan and Kirsten for what would be our final dinner together. Meghan was heading back to America in the early morning hours of March 11th and Kirsten and I wanted to be there to say goodbye. It is hard to say goodbye to someone who, for nine months, was your co-worker, roommate, friend, and little sister. Most of my tears were shed before I even got to the restaurant so I was able to keep it mostly together. Still, as Kirsten and I drove off in a cab and watched Meg disappear into the chaotic mess at the airport, we were again struck with sadness and we clung to each other and cried.

While entering our hostel a few days later a man asked if we would like to go to Bollywood…Kirsten and I looked at each other and immediately said “Sure!” I had been waiting for this very instance for a long time! Bollywood is India’s version of Hollywood and it turns out more movies than Hollywood. Bollywood movies can be very fun with lots of singing and dancing, and you rarely ever see kissing. They usually run about 3 hours and anytime a movie is shown in the theaters here there is an intermission.

The recruiter promised transportation, three meals a day, hair, makeup, costumes and a mere 500 rupees. We did have our misgivings though, as we had heard of scams involving just these kinds of promises. We decided that we would see what kind of people showed up the next day and would go from there. The next morning when we headed down to the lobby to meet the recruiter my worries were put to rest….there were several very large men and people from all different backgrounds and decades. For some reason this made me feel better…I would have been very nervous if it was all young women. We boarded the bus with everyone and we were off to Bollywood!

About an hour later we showed up at a studio. We were taken into a huge room full of makeup mirrors, costumes, and production assistants running around screaming at each other on headsets. They had us all sit in chairs while the director walked up and down, scrutinizing us. She pointed at Kirsten and another girl. “You, and you! Come with me,” she said. They were to become the waitresses; while in the meantime, I was taken to the costumer and given a short black dress and heels. After I was dressed I went to accessories where they gave me jewelry and was then sent to hair and makeup. After the transformation from rural teacher to glam clubber was finished I was allowed to eat some breakfast before I was rushed to the set.

As I walked onto the set my mouth dropped. It was an incredibly beautiful nightclub, apparently set in Istanbul. I was immediately paired with a man from Iran, given a fake martini and was directed to walk with my “date” in front of the camera while laughing and talking. We did this simple scene about 5 times before the director was happy. Then, I was placed at the bar talking with a man from Holland while the real bartenders showed off their skills for the camera. Another scene at the bar had me sitting right next to one of the main characters while he did his dialogue. During dialogue shooting we were not allowed to make any noise, but we had to appear as if we were having real conversations while dancing and having fun. This was sometimes a challenge, especially when there was no music to dance to. When the cameras rolled all the air conditioners and fans had to be turned off and the set soon became incredibly hot, especially with all the lights shining on us.

Finally, the moment I had been waiting for all day; Abhishek Bachchan entered the set and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He is a very famous (and handsome) actor in India; he is married to Aishwarya Rai (purported to be the most beautiful woman in the world) and his father is the most famous actor in India. In several scenes I was standing within feet of him. We had just watched him in a movie called Paa and it was weird to now be standing so close to him.

One thing I really enjoyed about the day was meeting and talking with all the other extras. I talked with people from Australia, Iran, Kazakhstan, Afghanistan, America, Spain, England, etc. It was a really interesting and very exhausting day. After nine months in flip flops, my feet and my back were protesting the heels. At 9pm, 12 hours after we started, we were released. We changed back into our street clothes and once again became hippies, teachers, and tourists. Kirsten and I were asked to come back for the next five days with paid accommodation and an increase in pay, but we already had confirmed tickets back to Gujarat, so sadly, we had to decline. Despite shooting for 12 hours, probably only 5-7 minutes will actually be seen in the movie. Look out for Crooked (working title) in the future and you will be able to see Kirsten and I, or at least my right arm and the back of my head ;)

A Year to Remember

On Friday, February 26th, Kirsten and I woke with a heavy weight on our hearts; it was our last day of school. The day we had been dreading for weeks was finally here and there was no avoiding the pain that we would feel. As I wrapped myself in a sari for the last time, my eyes stung with tears. I thought back to the first time Kirsten and I wore a sari to school. I remember feeling nervous that my sari would fall off and how our cheeks burned with embarrassment when 700+ students cheered wildly at the sight of us in traditional Indian dress. That day seemed so long ago, and now, here we were preparing to say goodbye. I could have never predicted the emotions I would feel on our final day, but earlier that week I was given some insight into just how hard it would be.

On the 22nd, after weeks of preparation, endless amounts of frustrations and several headaches later, our Spoken English students performed their Annual Function to a hall packed with students, teachers and families. Despite our worries, the students did a fabulous job and we couldn't have been more proud. At the end of the program some of my girls rushed up to me and said, "Teacher, Binal is crying." As I went to comfort her, the tears became contagious and soon, all 16 girls were huddled around me, tears streaming down their faces. "Please Teacher," they begged, "don't go to America. Don't leave us!" Now, I was the one with tears running down my face.

The rest of the week was just as hard and filled with tears. In each of my final classes I wrote my address on the board and the students copied it down into their worn notebooks. I was crying again when my 8D class presented me with gifts and roses. I was deeply touched when my 5th standard students gave me whatever they could, which amounted to 15 ball pens, 2 key chains, a half bottle of purple nail polish and a heart made from notebook paper. I choked back my tears as I said goodbye and walked out of the classroom for the last time.

Not only did I build relationships with the students, but also with our fellow teachers, and saying goodbye to them was just as hard. As a small token of our appreciation, Kirsten and I hosted a lunch for all the staff members on that final Friday. The entire staff of 60+ people gathered in the center hall and I was fighting back tears (unsuccessfully) as some of the teachers spoke about us. When it was my turn to talk, I couldn't. Sadness had gripped my throat and I couldn't catch my breath. Kirsten took over while I regained my composure and I then tried to relate with words the feelings in my heart. I thanked them for opening their school, sharing their students, and for treating us like family.
As we sat down to eat, a teacher leaned over and whispered, "Even though you are leaving, we will always remember you in our hearts."
"And you will be in mine," I replied.

My days in India are numbered, a fact that I would like to deny. This country is so vibrant and full of life, from the colors to the people. India is bursting with possibility and I hope that the students, the future leaders of India, are given the skills to make their dreams possible and to lead their country. I hope that I helped to contribute to their future successes, and I hope that they will remember me, because I will remember them.

I feel so blessed to have had this opportunity to experience India in such an intimate way; to interact with it's future, to fall in love with it's people, and above all, to learn. India is a country I have grown to love, even though it challenged me. It's a place I have learned to appreciate, even though at times it frustrated me. My heart will not forget the things that my eyes have seen or my ears have heard. The kindness that was shown to me and the friendships I have made will not be forgotten.
For me, India will always remain Incredible.