Some Days A Student....Other Days A Teacher

Today marks a week of me being home and I am still struggling to find my regular sleep pattern.  I am falling asleep to early at night and awake way to early in the morning.  The worst part is this nonsense begins about 1 or 2 in the afternoon, so it seems like I only have a few good hours in the morning to feel like myself. Which is unfortunate for those who have to deal with me at home and at work.  Who knew this sleep battle would last so long....I thought the worst part of traveling half way around the world would be the plane ride, turns out its the jet lag.

In my sleepy haze, I have spent the last week answering a lot of questions about India. I have been able to form the sentences to directly answer the questions asked of me, but to be honest I am not sure I have fully felt the emotions behind the words I share with those who inquire about my trip. Anyone who knows me understands that I take any situation and analyze it....I am always looking for the lesson I should be learning or for a deeper understanding of human interaction. I believe learning from one another is one of the reasons we are put on this earth. So when it comes to participating in my life as a student and a teacher, these are roles I take on with a lot of thought.  That being said, teaching and learning are not easy when you are tired and I find myself guarded when answering most questions that are presented to me. I have a deep understanding that I will now be the "friend" who has visited India and therefore my views will be parts of many conversations I will never actually participate in. Two days ago, my brother text me and said he had  met a guy (at work) who was from India. Soon my proud brother began to tell him about my trip to Mumbai....the two men got to talking and all the sudden I was linked to a man who I may never meet. So through a series of texts with my brother, I became very aware that my journey and how I shared it was now how my brother and a total stranger (to me) would remember this moment of commonality together. With that knowledge came great responsibility, because my journey to India was so complex.  It is also my words that people will share from here on out, when they say, "I had a friend that went to India and she said...."and because of this I want to share a couple of ideas with you.

The questions I got from my brother that day, or from anyone curious about my trip over this last week, have been very interesting.  If I had to guess what I have been asked about the most it would be food.  The questions are usually.... How was the food, how close are the flavors to those served in the US, how did my stomach handle it, etc.  I have come to the conclusion that these are the gateway questions to help people feel confident to dive into what they really want to know about Mumbai. Food is an easy way to start our conversation, but what people THINK they really want to know is....is Mumbai really like Slumdog Millionaire, what does the poverty really look like, is it really as 'bad' as they have envisioned, and if so....the questions quickly turn to... how and why would "they" live that way?  Oh how I have come to cringe at the word "they", it is such an easy way to say I am not are part of that.  They allows me to have distance from them. For me these are the questions, that I analyze the most as a teacher.

So lets start with the easy questions: The food was fantastic, although many in my group did not agree.  For this vegetarian, it was a perfect mix of  spicy,veggie and carbs....everyone knows I love my carbs.  There was always some type of bread and rice to compliment the saucy, veggie, dish.  I also loved the tea we got three times a day.  The first cup was delivered, daily, to our door at 630am.  Each cup of tea was just as complex in flavor different as the person who served it.  No matter where we went, as students, we were able to dive in and learn about a complete stranger and their life passions, over a cup of tea. Also, the cookies that came with the tea, were just an added bonus.  The food is very much like Indian food here in the states.  The only real difference for me was we add more meat in the US and less spice.  Overall, my stomach was able to handle it until about day 12 and then I needed a break from the spicy.  I began to get terrible heartburn and my stomach was queasy, so we found a Dominos in a mall and I was able to offer my tired system a cheese pizza.  Was that the same?  Mostly, it had less sauce, but still helped the stomach situation.

Now you have made it through the gateway....are you ready for the Slumdog Millionaire and how "they" live in poverty questions?

The truth is, I watched the movie way to long ago, to put it into context my experiences in Mumbai and compare them to the movie and if I am blatantly honest I would not even want to try.  It is after all a movie!  Should I compare The Wizard of Oz to KCK, or Breaking Bad to Albuquerque, because I have yet to encounter a farm with a Scottie dog named Toto or blue meth being sold by a chemistry teacher. Yet, the backdrop on screen resembles my childhood home and my current home so the stories must share some truth.  Well they do, KCK does have Scottie dogs, I am sure one or two are even named Toto (but I have yet to see a flying monkey)  AND Albuquerque does have Meth, maybe even sold by a school teacher, but blue meth is only sold by the Candy Lady in old town.  My point being stories are told through characters and a script, but the truth can only be found in living the journey with real people and life stories.

For me real life in Mumbai was learning about social work. I learned about housing issues, sexual violence, gender bias, poverty, domestic violence, and human dignity concerns. All of which is the focus of my work here in the US.  I am not exactly the person people come to for sugar coated life lessons, instead I shed light on stuff most won't talk about because its uncomfortable. I am the one in a group of people who seems mysterious or detached, but that is because I know lots of secrets and staying quiet helps everyone else have a good time because they cannot take in what I know or understand the journey's have seen.  So when I am asked about Mumbia, yes, those uncomfortable topics are in Mumbai and they were hard to see. They were heartbreaking and haunting.  They were hard to digest and they will forever be carried as part of my being.  Although, I will forever honor the experience, and cherish the education about the hard stuff....it is not the uncomfortable stuff  that Candace Bolz will remember about Mumbai. Nor is it how I want you to continue to think of Mumbai.

Instead, I would love for us all to see how each struggle is sandwiched between the singing and giggling of children, the comfort of family and community, the kindness of strangers, the freedom of stray animals, the hope of religion, and the honesty of human relationships. India offers amazing beauty within the language, the rituals, the clothing, and the even within the brokenness of people. In my heart, when I hear, how can "they" live that way...I wonder how can we not? In my journey to Mumbai, India was the teacher and I was student.  So how can "they" live like that???  The same we do.

So my hope, is next time you are talking about your friend who went to India, you don't tell them about the harshness of poverty or corrupt law, but instead you tell them about how she was changed by the beauty in the brokenness and she was astonished by how often her own reflection was seen in the faces of the amazing people she shared a cup of tea with. The journey is never about "them" it is always about us.


Today's challenge, acknowledge how often you use the word "they".  Happy Friday Peeps!

The Life Giving Gift of Clean Water

Now that I am home and have a spent a couple of days laying on the couch, trying to recoup from 20 hours on an airplane, the thing that I am most aware of us is the luxury of hot, clean, water!  The first thing I did when I got home, was take a hot shower to wash off the grime of international travel.  I then spent my first day home laying in front of the the television drinking a ton of water in hopes of hydrating my tired body. Each time I walked toward my fridge, to refill my water bottle, I was very aware of how easy it was for me to get and drink clean water and in turn thought I would write about in India vs. America.

Before we left for India we spent a long 8 hour day in an orientation class.  We were give a great deal of information about what NOT to do while we were India.  The list seemed to be a mile long on how to prepare ourselves for the trip, but the information that stood out most (for me) was on how to keep my body healthy while I was so far from home. One of the things that caused concern, was the idea of not being able to drink water (from the tap) while we were there. For a girl who drinks four Nalgene bottles full of water (a day), the idea of being put on a water budget was frightening. Especially because I also knew the weather would be in the mid 80's - 90's. 

Although, India has running water, the differences in filtration of water can cause problems for American students. The differences in how water is filtered leaves different bacteria in the water compared to the system we have here in the US.  Also, in some cases the water is pumped into the small villages we would visit or NGO locations, so being safe was better than dealing with stomach issues, while visiting India. I have been in this situation before while traveling to other countries, but for some reason (maybe because I was going so far from home) my concern about this issue seemed greater when traveling to India.  As it turns out, dealing with lack of clean water did become a problem.

First, it is important to understand that running water in Mumbia is a privilege for most.  Previously, I gave a brief look into the slums, but throughout this trip I was constantly reminded of how very wrong my interpretation of the slums were.  The most surprising stat on life in the slums is knowing that people living in slums does not inevitably mean there is a lack of money in the family.  Instead, the biggest difference of those living in slums verses housing is having reliable resources such as running water, sewage systems, and a lack of waste management services.  With 80% of the city of Mumbai living in slums, this is obviously a HUGE problem.  While there are some government recognized slums, which means they do have services, most are forced to purchase water and find other means of disposal for waste.

For people in unrecognized slums, there are water trucks that visit and allow residents to purchase water.  There are two types of water.  First, there is water you purchase to wash clothes, bath, and clean your home.  This water is less expensive and is often not filtered.  Then the expensive water, the water one needs to survive...it costs more because families purchase it for consumption. It has been filtered and is deemed safe.  Imagine if every time you were thirsty you had to contemplate if there was enough water before the next truck came to your neighborhood, or if you had enough water to bath your children before they left for school the next day.  Maybe you needed water for the meal you are making to feed your family? Whatever the case, the issue of water is a constant one in the slums.

However, the slums were not the only place that water was a noticeable obstacle to survival. In villages there were areas in which the local people could pump water for their personal needs. We asked one girl if the water was drinkable and she said yes, but our teacher told us we shouldn't drink it because it wasn't filtered. Apparently, our bodies would reject what other bodies thought of as drinkable. This idea made me feel spoiled. Some other issues with the pump, were location and scheduling. For one village the pump was miles away and the water had to be carried back to the village OR in some areas the water only ran for a certain amount of time during the day, due to government restrictions. Meaning, villagers could have two hours to access clean water or maybe four, it just depended on the schedule.  Because of these two issues children would miss school in hopes of obtaining water for the family, while parents worked in fields or brick making.  Young girls would be attacked on walks to the pump and families would suffer through these tragedies, all in hopes of getting clean water.  While others simply went without some days because it was impossible to know when the water would turn on. 

As we heard these stories it was hard for many in our group to imagine such a thing happening in our country.  After all, it is hard to imagine people not having access to clean water when all we have to do is go into any kitchen and turn on the water, but just because it seems unimaginable doesn't mean it isn't happening with our boarders.  There are people living on our streets unable to obtain clean water everyday. Think about this.... how likely are you to invite a person experiencing homelessness into your home to fill up their Nalgene water bottle four times a day.  Just the smell or the worry of them stealing probably consumed your imagination as I mentioned it. So you are probably just as likely to do so, as the store shop owner or a restaurant manager.  That being said how do you think a person would get water on the American streets... and this scenario is assuming our friend on the street has a Nalgene bottle to fill.  Our bodies, all of our bodies, need clean drinking water and it doesn't matter if we are sleeping in a slum in Mumbai, sleeping under a bridge in Denver, or recovering from a 20 hour flight. 

Be thankful and kind today!  You just never know who is simply in need of a life giving drink of clean water.   

A Tired Mind Rambles

I have been sitting here for 30 minutes trying to think of a powerful topic to write about today and although my mind is full of information, it seems to tired to process any of it. So I figured if I just started rambling maybe I could tie something together by the end of the post.

The trip is almost over and my days in the country have gone by quickly. I have learned and experienced more than I could have ever imagined I would, when I applied to this program. The amount of academic content that is packed into those daylight hours is overwhelming and exhilarating. Between lectures and being in the field, there hasn't been a day where I didn't learn something!  I cannot say that for my classroom time, back home! We spend our evenings exploring Mumbai and  shopping for things to remind of our travels in the future. Which now as I type this seems silly, because our lives have been changed forever and that is a souvenir none of us can find hanging in a store window.

Mumbai has shown me great love while I have been here. For as much as they suffer, the people also find ways to deeply love and honor one another. The people we have met in the social work field strive to change the injustices being seen within the boarders of this country. There are groups who have shown us incredible hospitality and I have enjoyed many cups of tea with brave and honorable people.

It is funny because before I left Kansas I worried about my place in this journey.  I contemplated my strength and courage to make this trip. Now, here I sit wondering why I ever gave any time to worry about this adventure.

So while my mind and body are tired, my soul is honored to have been chosen to take this adventure and be able to share it with you. Happy Wednesday Peeps. Love Big today! 

Do You See Your Reflection In Homelessness?

Homelessness, in any culture, is a reflection of the government and society.  How does that grab you?  Are you offended to think homelessness is a reflection of yourself?  Or can you recognize your contribution as a member of society within the context of homelessness?  Or maybe you stand somewhere in the middle and you have to mull this concept over before coming to a conclusion?  


When I heard those words come out of a professors mouth my heart sang!  It is not very often that I am among like minded people on this subject.  Instead I am usually in conversations about how "they" (meaning those experiencing homelessness) should just a get a job, or get off drugs, and their lives would be different.  That being said, when I heard a professor basically say…. this is not just an issue of not having a home or laziness, but instead a reflection of who I am and who you are and who we vote for, well I felt like he spoke the words I have been carrying around for years!

In India, homelessness looks and feels much like it does in America.  The hearts of those who sleep on the street (or street dwellers) have had a long hard journey that got them to where they are.  It is not as though they woke up one day and thought, "I think I will live without a job, sleep on the streets, and be shamed in my community".  The streets have broken this population and their souls have been scared by their time here on earth.  Their long twisted journeys can not be unraveled by simply getting employment or having a roof over their head.  It takes much more than that and in India the complexity of the legal system is just another form of oppression for this group.

The most difficult think in India, compared to America, is the amount of people experiencing homelessness.  Simply because of the shear volumes of people who live in this country; but the children (say between 5-17) are really the ones who have broken my heart.  During the lecture, we learned that "begging" is against the law in India and in order to be criminalized for this activity the only thing that needs to happen is a police officer simply says you were begging.  The officer does not have to be able to prove "begging" occurred.  He/she can simply say a person is begging and can arrest them.

Two interesting facts here:  Lets say a mother is carrying her child and gets arrested for begging.  If her child is under the age of 5 then the child goes with her to beggars jail.
So we are clear thiz means the child  is incarcerated at a young age, but gets to stay with its mother. 
However, if the child is over the age of  5, then the child is left on the street and forced to fend for themselves. Often they are then picked up by a handler and forced in to labor or sex trafficking.  Astonishing right????  Well it doesn't get better for this mother.  An investigation occurs within 15 days of her arrest and if she is not found to be working then she imprisoned for one year…any further offenses could lead up to 10 years in jail! Now put yourself in this mothers shoes.
Can you even imagine the sorrow she feels.


Ok so lets look at it from the male perspective.  A police officer picks up a street vendor and calls it begging.  He is then arrested in his own community and then goes through the same process as the mother did.  Doesn't seem so terrible in comparison right???  Wrong?  When this man is released back into his own community he is no longer employable, because he has a criminal record.  He can be shunned by his community for simply being wrongfully convicted or lets say he was begging….the question there is WHY IS THIS A CRIME?  Isn't it just another way to survive? What would you do if you could not get a job and your children where hungry?  And if you don't think asking strangers for money is work, well then I ask you to stand out and fly a sign on the street one day and report back.

The truth is in America we also criminalize this method of survival.  A person can be fined for spanging (a term used for asking for change) for different reasons.  The differences is the penalty is not as severe, but the criminal record and shame that comes with the humiliation is exactly the same in both Mumbai and America.

What if next time you saw someone asking for change or holding up a sign, you asked them about their story? You offered to buy them lunch?  You learned about who they were as a person, instead of assuming they were beggets on the streets of Mumbia or lazy p drug adddicts who just needed to get a job.

When people ask me about my work as a social worker, I always say….I feel most at home when I am on the streets within the homeless population.  People are living on the streets of Mumbai and people are living on the streets in the United States, there is no denying that. What you may deny is that people are EXPERIENCING homelessness and they are not just homeless.  This group of broken hearts are a story, a journey, and an adventure.  So now contemplate it again.....have you been denying your part in this issue as a member of society,
as a voter, or simple as a human?

What Is My Role In This??

Only a few days have gone by since I last wrote and there is so much to talk about within my experiences.  I have been keeping a list of topics to write about and it continues to grow longer and longer with each adventure we take.  So I am sure I will be blogging about my trip for weeks to come…so be prepared!

Today I wanted to tell you about our experience to the rural areas of India.  We have heard about the rural area several times in the classroom setting and every time I heard rural, I pictured large open fields in eastern Colorado or Montana ranches/farms.  Maybe this is because within each lecture, that touched on the subject, the professor would begin to talk about farmers….so my reference was of an all American farmer. However, in actuality the rural areas of India are small villages where the indigenous or "tribal people" (an Indian reference) live.  We were able to visit two of these villages and it was a life changing experience.

The first village sat at the bottom of plateau.  It was surrounded in open fields, but not land to grow crops on.  Within the village there were 500 people, who had shared this same land with 5 generation before them. There were two types of homes made of either mud and sticks or some were concrete.  The majority of the population worked for brick makers, where they formed and carried bricks in order to earn money.  While others worked in rice fields for farmers. Workers were paid very little for this back breaking work and being a woman also meant less money.  The children were also expected to go to work with their parents and therefore would miss out and receiving any type of education. Astonishingly, the work of all the family members and stipend government agencies still left families without enough food. The village also did not have electricity or running water.  Much like the indigenous people in America, the tribal people have experience Genocide and have struggled to be honored by others in India.  

While we were there we were asked to take our shoes off and to sit in a circle with our legs crossed.  They welcomed us to their village by placing mats on the floor and having the children surround us as we learned about their history, homes, and culture.  The children who formed a circle around us were in awe of our different skin tones and they would whisper and giggle as the adult conversation took place.        We learned about the hardships this population has experienced, including police corruption, a lack of land to be self sufficient, young girls being attacked, and farmers using their labors without pay.  When it was time for us to ask questions one of us said, "ask them if they have questions for us?"  One man spoke up and asked if we had families in the USA who went to bed hungry, like his family did.  With my background in homelessness, every head in my group turned to me to answer the question, including my professor.  When put on the spot, I found it so difficult to compare the poverty the tribe was living and poverty in the United States.  What could I say to a person that would allow them to understand the difference and the deep similarities we shared as a people?  How could I explain that as I sat in their village it felt very similar to sitting in a squat under a bridge, while not harming their spirits by ignoring the pain they were feeling.  I was full of fear, but then I said, "Yes, we have people who go to sleep hungry in the United States and some sleep outside in the cold this time of year."  

As they listen to my answer being translated, a million other things ran through my mind.  Did poverty in America really compare to that of this village?  Did I answer the question without seeming as though their struggles were not worthy of comparison?  Where all these little ones sitting around me going to bed hungry?  How could I even relate to this issue, knowing I would leave this village and have lunch on the bus that drove me there?

The hardest part of this trip comes with self reflection.  What role do I play in this situation and how can I change what happens in this village in the future?  The answers are still unknown, but my heart is heavy while seeking answers.

The village visit did end with dancing. Young girls (middle school age) tried to teach us to dance.  As we gave it our best shot it was obvious the dancing was more about laughter than actually learning the steps.  After a long emotional visit it was nice to laugh together!

Understanding A Mumbai Slum

Yesterday was a day full of adventure!  We made it out of the classroom and back into the hustle and bustle of Mumbai.  The chaos of the streets and the amount of people always leave me exhausted by the end of our day.  However, in the midst of it I feel like I am missing so many things due to the shear amount of activity happening around me.  There are just not enough adjectives to describe this city and this is really apparent because my blogs are getting longer every time, when I promised them to be short.  There is just so much I want to share!

Over the last few days, when we have been out in Mumbai we have passed different slums in our travels, but have only been able to see them through a bus or car widow.  The idea of slums is one I could not understand while living in my 1900 sqft home with running water and a comfy bed.  When I would see the pictures or media representations of the slums my thoughts were never focused because the people living in slums never really affected my day to day life.  Why would it right, I mean those were not my streets or people I actually knew?  Well I can officially now say the Mumbai slums are my streets and people I know live and survive there.

Our visit was directed by one of the local YMCA organizations.  We were first able to see different classes, within the community center, that were set up as empowerment tools for members in the community.  There were classes women could take in: henna application, fashion, beauty school, jewelry making, etc.  All in hopes of providing them a way to earn an income for themselves and their children.  They also offered computer and typing (on a typewriter) courses, as a way to provide the community members a place to build the vocational skills for government employment opportunities. Each of these classes is provided at very little or no cost.  I did have concerns about this excursion however because the tour of the campus was awkward, at best.  I actually really struggled.  I didn't like the idea of standing in front a classroom and talking about students as if they weren't all sitting in chairs right in front of me.  We were barely introduced, there was a language barrier, and we were not given an opportunity to build relationships.  It felt very intrusive to me and I couldn't imagine how I would have felt if I were in their shoes.  I couldn't imagine being in class, having foreigners come in front of the room, speak a different language and dig through my assignments. It made me very uncomfortable. However, I cannot take away from the fact that the agency is doing amazing work!

The community center location is in the heart of a slum, occupied by a Muslim community.  The reason this is important is because, India has the 2nd highest Muslim community in the world and there is great discrimination and oppression for this population.  The problems for Muslims in this country goes way back in history, but the results of it are written through every small shack in this slum.  The 10x10 rooms hold 8-10 family members, however there can often be rooms built above the original structure if family needs the space.  There is no running water or sewage system and they are charged roughly 400 American dollars a month.  The most shocking part isn't the cost, but instead people can come from very little money or can be doctors and engineers making good money.  This is all do to a lack of housing and/or discrimination and oppression in Mumbai.  Man, have I had this all wrong in my head and my heart broke when I heard this!  Some even consider it a privilege to live in a slum. It is hard to understand, but again it isn't wrong.  The piece for me was I couldn't imagine beginning treated so poorly for my faith?  Every night we hear the Muslim call to prayer as we sit in our rooms and now with each one of the calls I too have begun to pray for the changing of hearts in Mumbai.

Our final stop was in a day care center, run by the YMCA.  This was probably my favorite part of the day.  As we walked in and saw kids ranging in age from 5-16 (I am guessing) we were greeted with giggles and astonishment over how different we looked.  We were asked to come over and hear the youngest members of the group sing a song.  Their faces lit up as they jumped around and smiled through the music notes.  We couldn't understand the language, but we understood the pure joy! After they were done we were asked to sing to them.  It was fantastic to see the shock on our faces, but we gathered the courage to belt out the ever famous Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.  As we sang the entire group of students (old and young) turned to look at us and each of them began to sing along with us.  It was a life changing moment of human interaction.  I loved that one little song could bring two parts of the world together in the most unlikely place, a small community center in the heart of a Mumbai slum.  The best part, it was all watched by a bull that stood outside the open door as we sang.

Bringing Shame Into the Light.

Another 3am wake up call from the body.  This can't be a good sign!  However, it does give me time to update this blog.  At 3pm today however, I know I will not be able to see this same silver lining.  

Yesterday, we were in the classroom setting.  We spent the morning talking about Poverty in India and the afternoon talking about Domestic Violence.  Learning from Indian professors is a cultural experience in itself. For the most part, I am able weed through the language/ accent barrier, but the thing that I struggle with most is as westerners we are deemed untrustworthy to receive this information and not judge it or misuse it. The even harder piece, for me, is I acknowledge this is a valid concern, from the perspective of an Indian professor! Yet, it saddens me when a teacher comes into the room and begins the lecture with, I had to figure out how to present this information to you because I didn't want to provide more information for your negative ideation of India.  The teacher spoke further on the matter and said he had to tell himself we were peers in the field and information is good to have if given people who are like minded. I began to ponder this deeply.  In America, we hide our shame.  The things we don't want the world to see, we spin with a positive tone to allow us to feel better about the situation.  Yet, we have issue of great shame that have molded who we are as nation and in truth it is probably this same shame that keeps us from growing into a more loving and honorable nation.  This is a problem, a BIG problem. Big enough that  a professor sat in front of a group of US social work students and basically said....I wish I knew for sure you would bring new light to the way India is seen in your country.  So to honor his message, I hope to shed new light on old ways of thinking.

The reason I say all this is because I am to give you some information that you may not understand or even agree with.  Yet, I ask you to remember one cannot assume it is something is wrong because they do not understand it or wouldn't participate in it. Just as we cannot assume things are easily fixed.  Instead I challenge you to take the information and compare it what you know in hopes of gathering a deeper understanding and acknowledge much of this happens in our country every day.

When we were listening to the lecture on poverty, I kept thinking about how we tell children, finish your food there are starving people in India (or Africa).  That statement is true, there are many people who are hungry or living on the streets.  In fact, one of the professors said yesterday 77% of the country lives on less than $2 dollars a day in India. That seems unfathomable, how could anyone live on $2 a day? To put in in perspective we went out for dessert and I spent .30. India also has 400 million poor people living within its boarders, which also sounds astonishing.  It runs 2nd internationally, next to China, on largest number of people. So with more people comes bigger problem and the problems are extreme just due to numbers of people affected by the issues.  This does not the dismiss the need in India, as when I am face to face with starving children it is hard for me to comprehend how any human could ever go hungry.  However, I debate this same issue when face with starving people on the streets of the United States, yet we do not say....finish your food because there are starving people in America. 

As the teacher continued to talk he mentioned that the issue was not a lack of food, but instead the problem was distribution and policy implementation at the government level.  Which again is the same in America.  The issue of poverty in India is very complex and honestly overwhelming when I thought about it.  Yet, for me many of the issues brought to the table were issues I have discussed or seen in our systems as well.  I saw India as a kindred country yesterday.  I understood the inability to fight issues with poverty, because of political agenda, lack of community support, or lack of funds to provide resources.  The idea that we can look at the extreme impoverished in India and judge the situation (which if I am honest I did before I came) is one I will no longer be able to understand.  I was changed by the conversation yesterday and I hope a part of you will be now too.

The lecture on Domestic Violence stemmed mostly around gender equality and poverty in India. The complexity of this issue is still being worked out in my own mind, so I hope to shed more light on this in future days.  The biggest note I will share here is shaming is never a way to engage in this topic or any human interaction!  For example (not necessarily domestic violence associated): arranged marriage in our country is hard to understand, but does that make it wrong or just hard to understand?  Saying, "how can they do that" feels like shaming to me. In India, marriage looks and feels different, but in America marriage is far from perfect and families are broken! In India, family is essential to how one thrives culturally. The thing that stood out most to me about families is when two people are married the families are then married.  In our world, this piece is lacking and to some unthinkable.  The stuff I am having a hard time putting into words deals with gender equality in India and we will be discussing it more in future days so I hope to be able to touch on it then.

Overall, the learning experience is well worth the trip. I am beginning to think the key to human understanding and acceptance is traveling with an open heart and mind.  I have loved being reminded that in this world we are more alike than different and we are all interconnected.  We even share a love of pugs!  Yesterday, after a long day of deep and hard topics we ran into a Simba the pug on a walk. He didn't question who I was and neither did his owner, instead he was ready to show some love and she was ready to share my love of pugs.  It was a good end to a day full of bringing shame into the light.