Saturday, February 13, 2010

Off to Army Camp

Reporting from Camp McCrady, Fort Jackson, South Carolina

I made it. I am now firmly ensconced in the US Army, or rather the South Carolina National Guard. After a week of pokes and prods, waiting in long lines, and sitting quietly, I can now expect more of the same!

For those of you who aren't familiar with South Carolina geography, I'm sleeping under the green arrow below:


Other than an infuriatingly slow bus trip, the day has been uneventful. I was impressed first thing this morning by a group of well-wishers as we boarded the buses. Apparently they're out there every week giving the sailors heading overseas a smile and a pat on the back. We each received a small care package loaded with delicious junk food, home baked cookies, and a note from a local 4th grade class. The cynic in me found it slightly comical, but I suppressed that impression and tried to appreciate the good natured outpouring of support as just that.

There were some heart-wrenching moments as young mothers and fathers said goodbye to their children, including a new-born infant, and families parted ways. This is a clear reminder of one of the greatest sacrifice of the men and women being sent over seas: lost time with their families. Whether going to the relative safe locations of Kuwait or Qatar, or facing danger in Anbar or Helmand, all these soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines will miss out on countless irreplaceable moments in the lives of the families and loved ones. I know that, for me at least, this is the most difficult aspect of the deployment.

Now we're just back in sit-and-wait mode, the next event doesn't happen until tomorrow afternoon. The weeks are heavily scheduled, but we should have some time to relax and head into Columbia next weekend, which I hear is the New YorkCity of the South...



Thursday, March 12, 2009

Op-Ed

Reporting from Cambridge


Just wanted to note that an opinion piece I wrote in the Harvard Citizen was published this week. The text is below in case the link changes.

“Che du… Cha de wu… cha du vu…” The children laughed heartily as I blundered through the phrase that they were trying to teach me. I’m confident that they considered me a bumbling idiot, not even able to parrot such a simple phrase.

Just seventy miles away from the economic miracle of Bangalore, India, with its gleaming IT campuses reminiscent of Silicon Valley, lies an obscure rural valley experiencing a miracle of its own: the Rishi Valley Education Center. While Rishi Valley may not have the media appeal of companies like Infosys and other upstart IT companies that are changing the way the world does business, it is having a profound and fundamental impact on the Indian educational system.

The mission of the Center is simple: provide a quality, village-based elementary education for rural children in multi-grade, one-room schoolhouses. However, as is often the case, significant cultural and economic barriers complicate achieving this simple goal.

In a region where most live on subsistence farming and every family member must contribute, education frequently becomes a low priority for parents and children alike. The realities of survival in such a poor area make it difficult to convince the community to embrace education. Additionally, students often live miles from the nearest government school with no option other than to walk miles each day to attend school.

Furthermore, the educators at Rishi Valley found that the families frequently required their children to be out of school for extended periods that did not conform to the standard educational schedule. These students, upon returning to the classroom, found themselves lagging behind their peers and consequently lost motivation to continue.

In response to these problems, the husband and wife team of Y.A. and Rama Rao created an elegant solution that they call “School in a Box.” The curriculum is modular, with simple graphics of plants and animals, color-coded by subject area, to depict the progress and level of the students. These graphical “achievement ladders” are simple enough for both children and illiterate adults to understand, leading to an increased level of parent participation. The self-contained lessons provide the teachers of the one-room schoolhouses with enough flexibility to support up to 25 children spread across five grade levels.

The Raos believe that in a society with such strong communal bonds, it is vitally important for the entire community be involved in the schools. To encourage community participation, they developed a program of math and science fairs, organized by the schools, but run by the students themselves. We, the HKS India Trekkers, were lucky enough to attend one such “Math Mela” over the winter break, and we were amazed by the turnout. It seemed as though the entire village attended. Eager students wearing sashes saying “Can I help you?” quickly split us up and took us to the various stations where we had to guess the metric measurements of sticks and weights of different foods. Each station had a student that graded our attempts to use Tangrams, measure our height, or use an abacus-like counting device. Despite some communication problems, we performed fairly well on our student-issued report cards, although there may have been some grade inflation.

In less than two decades, the program has made amazing progress, expanding from a handful of village-based schools to 15 across the Rishi Valley. The Center has also worked with regional governments in India and other national governments to bring the “School in a Box” process to one-room schoolhouses in other parts of the world.

Thus far, the results have been astounding. Graduates of the program are well received in the government middle schools and high schools, outperforming their peers in traditional elementary school programs. In this impoverished area where as many as 25 percent of school-aged children are considered child laborers by UNICEF standards and schools consistently underperform their urban equivalents, this success is encouraging. If India is to maintain the economic momentum it has achieved through enterprises like Infosys, the level of education provided to its youth must continue to improve. Innovative programs such as this offer great hope.

The Rishi Valley Rural Education program operates on an annual budget of less than $50,000, but struggles to raise even that meager sum. Luckily, even from Cambridge’s ivy-covered walls, we can help.

Just $2,500 runs one village school for an entire year. Please help the students of the HKS India Trek reach this goal and attend the fundraiser at Tommy Doyle’s on April 2nd at 8 pm. The minimum suggested donation will be $10 at the door, but please consider giving $15 - enough to fund a student for an entire month. We look forward to seeing you there - the students of Rishi Valley need your help!

Oh, and the phrase that I finally managed to repeat successfully? “Cha-du-vu, kor-e-ka.” It means, “I want to learn.”

Monday, January 19, 2009

Reflections

Reporting from Washington, DC.

I'm home! (almost)

I just wanted to wrap up my trip with a couple of thoughts.

Travel Agent: If anyone is looking for a great travel agency in India, I can't recommend SITA highly enough. They were great: didn't miss a transfer , were flexible for a group looking for a non-tourist agenda, and set up a great group of travel guides. While I don't think its necessary to have a full service travel agent while in India, it certainly helps.

Denial: In our meetings with Indian government officials, I was frequently impressed with how well they understood the gravity of their situation and the incredible hurdles they are facing to bring India from the "developing" to the "developed" column. In a country with nearly four times the population of the US and less than one-tenth the income, they have challenges beyond compare. That said, there is a large segment of the population that does not recognize that India is not there yet and those are the people that are clamoring at the door of world prestige, but forgetting of all the indigent and helpless people of India that they are cruelly standing on.

I was dismayed to read an op-ed in India Times last week that was complaining about India's portrayal in Slumdog Millionaire. It said that it portrayed India in a negative light, with all the poverty and homelessness. I haven't seen the movie yet, but I understand that this movie really was one of the triumph of human spirit and that the Indian people were featured highly in it. Unfortunately, the sentiments expressed by the author, a prominent Bollywood director, seem to me all too typical of the upper classes. They have found it relatively convenient to forget that India has a population nearly the size of the US that lives on less than $1.25 per day (the World Bank definition of extreme poverty.)

This may be a stinging indictment of India's wealthy and probably unfair to many of them that care deeply for the economic problems of their fellow countrymen, but even after a week it seemed clear to me that this denial was pervasive in the press.

Leakage: One of our first meetings in the country was with 1298 Amulance, whose founder discussed some of the issues that they were having with "leakage", a euphamism for employee theft and government graft. They were solving the problem with technology, increasing monitoring of ambulance movements to prevent moonlighting with company equipment. At first I didn't think too much of this, but by the end of the trip I realized that India has an epidemic of leakage and 1298 has an uphill battle. The corruption ranged from the billion dollar Satyam scandal to fifty rupee taxi ripoffs. While it is clear that these issues have direct negative impacts on the economy they also have further ranging implications: they create intangible barriers to commerce. Whether it's multinationals no longer wishing to do business with large Indian companies or tourists (like us) that tired of getting slowly and constantly ripped off, India is losing business to this culture of corruption and must take more concerted action to solve the problem.

People: I said it a few times, but wanted to reiterate that the Indian people are amazing. Living in a place with such hardships and remaining optimistic is not an insignificant accomplishment. They are generally friendly, even in a place like Mumbai where personal space is at a premium and it would be very easy to become agitated and rude. The tragedy in Mumbai also provides another aspect of the Indian's generosity and kindness of spirit as they all pulled together to get through the past few difficult months. They are the country's greatest resource.

Lessons on the last day

Reporting from Bombay Airport

Lesson 1 - If you’ve hired a full service travel agency, use it! We came to a consensus that sitting around in the airport for fourteen hours was not the best of plans, so we made arrangements to stay in a hotel until it was time to check-in. When we arrived, the SITA representative meeting us at the airport was mildly concerned that we’d set ourselves up for failure and, in fact, the hotel didn’t have the van space to take us all. Fortunately, SITA already had a bus for us! In the end, everything worked out, just something to remember for the future.

Lesson 2 – You can’t buy a plane ticket at the airport after 26/11 (Mumbai Terrorist attacks.) I made the mistake of showing up to the airport without a copy of my itinerary, which is even required to get through the front door. I made a lame plea to be allowed in and the guy refused, but it turns out that they had a copy of the passenger manifests anyway. They eventually let me in, but only after some grief.

Lesson 3 – Dominos delivers, even in Mumbai.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Buy, Buy, No Buy, Goodbye

Reporting from Jaipur

Our last full day in India. We didn’t have much of an itinerary, so today was meant to be pretty relaxing, mostly just finish up shopping. Waking up to say goodbye to Anjali, our trip organizer extraordinaire, we splintered off into small tuk-tuk sized groups to find some more Rajastani treasures.

We found Gopal Singh.

Gopal was a friendly, older, tuk-tuk driver that offered to take us around the city for a princely sum of 50rs per person for 1 hour. We managed to talk him down to 150 for 2 hours (roughly 3 dollars). He then took us to all his favorite (probably commissioned) places. It was pretty enjoyable for the most part and while I wouldn’t recommend cramming five Americans (well, one of us was German) into a tuk-tuk, we made it work. We spent a good amount of time at a fabric place that had markedly improved quality of products compared to yesterday’s market. While there Gopal explained his shopping philosophy “buy, buy, no buy, good-bye.” Sounded good to us!

His next recommendations were busts… a junky restaurant and an overpriced jewelry store. We declared victory and returned to the hotel. When Gopal dropped us off, he seemed a bit miffed that we only paid him double the negotiated fare, despite the pretty significant commission he likely earned from the fabric store and restaurant. Oh well.

Not interested in dealing with crazy cab drivers, we decided to have our final dinner at the hotel’s rooftop. It was a great dinner: we reflected on the trip’s highlights and applauded ourselves for being so great (like a small, slightly less glamorous version of the Oscars.) I’ll talk about that more later.

Tomorrow – the long trek back to the States!


Inspecting the merchandise


Sareena and Sam at dinner

Tourists on Elephants

Reporting from Jaipur

We got to sleep in ‘till 8 this morning! Yes, I do like my sleep. This would be a full day of tours, nothing to redeem the day academically or intellectually. I’m fine with that though.
First up, elephants.

We visited the Amber Fort, an incredible medieval palace not far from Jaipur city on a hill. The traditional way for tourists to get up the hill is on the back of elephants. Of course, what other way would one climb a hill while in India? We fit in well with the other tourists, some of whom were sporting the turbans they’d purchased from the touts in the line. I suppose there was an alternate route, but why would we pass on the elephants? Other than the last minute fleecing by the elephant “driver”, it was everything we wanted (needed?) it to be.

The fort was a spectacular setting with several palaces and a warren-like harem in the back. We spent most of the time getting lost and finding secret rooms. Apparently, the way down from the fort is by jeep…

Next, we visited the City Palace, which was built by one of the maharajas from the Amber fort. Not a whole lot there other than the largest (as registered in the Guinness Book) silver urn.
We ditched the guide after he wanted to take us to the government jewelry store (for a sizeable commission.) All that was left was shop and haggle until we were exhausted, which didn’t take too long. The market we were shopping had a ton of shops and touts, but was light on quality goods. A perfect place to hone our bargaining skills. After about two hours of “that’s not possible my friend”, “for my first customer, a special price”, near walk outs, and treasures acquired, we took our bags home.

That evening we went to dinner at rooftop Mediterranean place that had a huge square table capable of accommodating all twelve of us. The food was good and the staff friendly, but the best part was the beer served in teapots! There’s nothing quite like drinking your beer out of a coffee mug after pouring it from a teapot…

Excited to be on the prettiest elephant in Jaipur

Excited to be alive


Girls in the Harem windows...


I found Waldo! No, wait... that's me...

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Cultural Show

Reporting from Jaipur

Another early morning (sorry for the broken record on this…), I managed to get my act together and pour myself onto the bus. The trip from Delhi to Jaipur lasted about six hours. When we finally arrived, I promptly crashed in my hotel room.

I finally felt like a real person again around dinner, which was a good thing because the agenda for the evening was not to be missed. The tour guide set us up at a garden restaurant with a dance show! It was amazing slash terrible. I hadn’t attended the last cultural event so I was excited to see what the Rajastanis had in store for us. There were pots, knives, dancing horses, and crazy Norwegians (one of whom decided that he should share his culture with the crowd.) What more could one ask for?

Dancing, Trumpeting, Fire... What more could you ask for?

We argued whether that was a horse or a donkey... I also have a picture of one of my friends wearing it and dancing on stage, but I'm going to spare him the embarrassment of posting it (I'm not above bribery here.)