9/24/08 in bed surrounded by moat

We've been visiting Ravendra (the man we look to the hospital) every day. He is doing a little better. Abel for the most part has taken responsibility and visits him 2 or 3 times a day bringing clothes or food. Abel was gone for the day so he told Mayang and I to take food to him.

When We got to the hospital, we saw that he had managed to completely defile all the clothes and sheets around him. They where covered with piss and blood and what mayang calls "su-su". It bothered us that he had been like that all day and the hospital hadn't helped him or cleaned him or given him a diaper of some sort. So, we helped him up to the bathroom to take a bath. The bathroom was so filthy that I almost vomited. The toilets (that are level with the ground) where all clogged and overflown, the urinals were clogged with what looked to be gallons of red Kool-Aid ("oohh yeahhh!") , vomit was clogging all the sings and drains in the bathroom, and the floor was a big fat mosaic portrait of the hospital's incompetence drawn with piss, blood, puke and "su-su". To top it off there was a malaria warning on the bathroom door. After feeding and cleaning Ravendra we left, promising we would come back with hot tea and cigarettes (we where happy he felt good enough to smoke..heh)

We came back to the hostile and Mayang and I where still upset and disturbed by poor conditions of the hospital. Mayang was ready to take a bath in rubbing alcohol when he we came back into our room (we now share an extended cut off to the Madelin room that is separated by french doors and leads into the garden outside) to find his bed covered with hundreds of ants. He wasn't in a great mood to start off with and now, needless to say, he was pissed. He tried in vain to brush all the ants off, and then lifted the mattress to find more underneath! He pulled his caut away from the wall and there where TWICE as many as he had already found! I looked at my bed and didn't see any ants, but I lifted the mattress and there were TONS! By now we were laughing in disbelief Mayang looked at me and said "Sy, mahn.... If we don't deal with these ants now.... we will die in our sleep tonight, and then be carried away".

We started to sweep the ants off the mattresses and underneath them, which sent the ants into a panic and they went all over the walls and covered the floor so that every step we took ants where climbing up our legs. Mayang shook his bed sheet swiftly to catapult the hundreds of ants off of his bed, and they flew into the air and landed all over his body.He started yelling and taking off his shirt and slapping every inch of his body (needless to say I was laughing head off. We pulled away a small night stand away from the wall, and behind it where twice as many ants as we had seen already, on this concentrated spot on the wall, all carrying their larva around with them. After an hour or so everything was clean. We swept the ants away and cleaned every square ince of our little room.

The next night before we went to bed, we searched the entire room for ants and didn't find one. I layed down in bed and thought "I should call april, but sleeping sounds incredible right now" so I went to bed. 40 minutes later I felt something on my arms and head and think "it's just my imagination recovering from last nights trauma" but the "creepy crawly/ebee-jeebees" got incredibly tangible and I turned on the light. There were ants all over my body and bed. I looked at mayang who was still asleep and saw there were none on his bed. I took it as a sign that I should call april... so I did. I turns out that mayang woke up at 2 in the morning to the same unpleasant surprise.

This same routine has happened for 3 days. The ants disappear during the day, and at night they cover your body and bed. When I told our "ant woes" to Aanugra, he suggested putting each leg of the bed into a bowl and filling the bowl with water, because ants won't try to cross the water, and if they do they can't swim. So now, as I write, I am laying on my bed with half of a water bottle on each leg of the bed filled with water. Call it superstition but I feel safe to sleep tonight.

Abel often laughs when Amy tries to speak in hindi, which is ironic because half the time I can't understand a word he says in english. He often mixes his "ss-ah's" with his "sh-ah's". The other day when we went on a group site seeing trip, Abel told us "let's stop here and shit together". we all laughed and assured him that there was no way we could all fit into one bathroom.

I realized that some jokes just don't make alot of sense in india. Like that joke "Which hand do you wipe with?.......(friend answers right hand or left hand)...... oh really? I usually just use toilet paper!" doesn't really apply here. If you asked them what hand they wiped with they would just say "left hand! Duhh!" or maybe even retell the joke "what kind of toilet paper to you wipe with?..... (wait for response)..... oh really? I usually just use my left hand!"

There are some other cultural differences and preferences that you come to recognize after you've been in India for a while... example- Did you know that "cow tipping" is frowned upon here? well I sure didn't!

9/19/08 St.Stephens bench on lawn

Friday we all took a 30-minute silent walk down the street, and on the way back Abel pointed and motioned at something cross the street and darted across to the other side. I followed him and it turns out that he was wanting to help out this guy who was asleep on the sidewalk.
Every day I see people sleeping on the sidewalk and if you didn't know better you would think it was because they were all destitute. But then you realize that everyone takes naps around 2 or 3 in the afternoon. I've seen men in nice cloths sleeping on the sidewalk, it really doesn’t define you. So I had seen this guy from across the wide street, and figured he was just another rick shaw driver or beggar taking a nap. When we got closer I realized that there was something wrong.
The first indication was that he had a legion of flies covering his whole body laying eggs in the cuts in between his toes and in his eye lids, and aside from that...he was shockingly thin. He had no fat on him, and no recognizable muscle. He was a walking skeleton.... well except that he couldn't walk. Abel and I bought some food, a coke and water and brought it to him. He didn't have enough strength to tear thru the thin plastic wrapping that held his sandwich. He ate a small bite of the sandwich and looked at us and shook his head back and fourth and put it back in the bag. He was babbling, and the only thing Abel could understand was that he had not eaten in 20 to 30 days, and had no strength to walk. He was incredibly excepting of the flies that covered him. We realized that he was starving to death, wasn't physically capable of eating and that if we left him there he would die.
We then realized that there was a government hospital right across the street that I hadn't noticed before. We called a rickshaw and helped the man to it and then pushed it across the street. He didn't even have the strength to sit up. Abel helped him into the hospital, and when we had him sit down on this metal chair. He didn't have the strength to ease himself down, so he came down on the chair with a loud "THUNK" made by his protruding tailbone hitting the metal with great force, and with no fat or muscle to cousin his fall.
We went into the office to talk to the doctors. They had us bring him in, and after noticing he was homeless asked "Who is this man? Where did you find him?" Abel, not startled enough to loose his odd sense of humor said "Thailand!" ...."really?".... "no, actually he was dying right in front of your hospital. He hasn't eaten in 20 days, is no longer capable of eating, and doesn’t have the strength to walk or talk"..."well what are we supposed to do about it?"....."Why are you asking us? you're the doctors! He's not capable of eating, feed him intravenously"..... "sorry we can't do that, as soon as we give him any treatment we are legally responsible. The man said his whole family is dead, so who will take his body in the unfortunate event that he dies? If he has no family to claim responsibility we won't do anything".
We convinced them to take a blood test, and when the results came back they said "He doesn’t have any disease, so we can't admit him. He's malnourished... that’s all. If he eats he'll be fine" and so we said "well... he CAN'T eat... that's the reason he's starving to death! he needs to be hooked up to an IV!" and we had this back and fourth argument with the doctors. After Abel said he would take full responsibility for him. the doctors said "We can do some tests, but we won't admit him unless we see a clear problem. But we will only do the tests if someone stays with him the whole time. We don't know how long it will be till anyone sees him. Do you REALLY want to wait around all day? ".... "Actually we'd be happy to!". They were a little taken back, and then they said "why? he is a beggar. He starves because he is lazy. What if we help him? He'll just go back on the street doing nothing. These kinds of people don't like to work. Why waste the time?"....... "just make him well, give him some strength, get his appetite back, then he can decide for himself whether or not he wants to work" but they kept trying to talk us out of it.
after waiting 30 minutes in the waiting room they said "okay take him up to the 3rd floor for an X-ray".... "Can we get a wheelchair?"...."why?"....."umm, because he can't walk". So they gave us the worst wheelchair they had, with one small front wheel that didn't turn properly. So we spent a few hours running him around the hospital in this piece of s--- wheelchair getting tests done.
One thing I forgot to mention.... this guy smelled like had been taking baths in cow piss for a month.. and he stunk up any room he was brought into. When we had an X-ray done, we helped him out of his shirt and then threw it away because it was so rancid. Abel then quite literally gave this man the shirt off his own back.... and a pair of his underwear (sounds odd... but he needed it).
This guy seemed incredibly familiar, and I thought I had seen him before. I realized that he reminded me of pictures I had seen of holocaust victims. He also bears a strange resemblance to Abraham Lincoln.
After the tests where done and they said we'd have to wait, Abel had to leave and yuvraj (who had come over when he heard what we were dealing with) had to teach in a slum, so I volunteered to wait. After waiting by myself in the waiting room for an hour or two I think they realized that we were seriously committed to helping this guy, and we wouldn't stop being a major pain in the ass until Ravedra (the mans name btw) got the help he needed. They came out "you can leave. We're treating him now and you don't have to be here anymore". I got the doctors phone number and made sure they were actually treating him and not just BSing, then assured the doctors that we would be back to visit him often (to ensure some accountability) and then I left for Amy’s house, where we watched Dumb and Dumber in Hindi.
When they were trying to talk us out of taking responsibility for Ravendra, they kept saying "people like this come in all the time"... well something tells me that if that’s true, they kick they're starving butts back out on the street to die (unless a couple pesky lads from California and monipore badger them into it).
He's doing better now, though he still doesn’t have much of an appetite, he is being fed thru an IV and can now sit up, walk, talk, and bathe by himself. Mayang helped give him a bath last nigh, which was not a pleasant experience for him. He has a sensitivity to smell similar to Aaron’s, and he left that hospital with the look of "I'm going to go home and scrub my skin with steel wool until I have shed my first 3 layers"
There was a man in the hospital that I could tell from his screaming and moaning that he had appendicitis. I asked "appendix?" and he got silent, nodded, then went back to screaming and moaning. I almost told him "yeah the first times the worst" forgetting that it's only suppose to happen once. Then I thought to myself "Lucky skunk gets to have his appendix taken out!"

9/14/08 madolin room (on new bed in room extention)

So I know that I have been neglecting to write all that I am experiencing, and I'll try to write more and give you a clearer picture of what it's like over here. So far I have stayed away from posting my wittings that are sad or negative, because I'm sure everyone hears enough sad and negative things every day, and from every YWAM student that comes back to the states from a foreign country, telling you what terrible people you are for not helping. I didn't want to be just another beating drum. But as I talk to people, they seem to want to know about those kind of things, and they tell me to write about it more, so I guess I will. Starting...... NOW....no wait...............NOW.......no hold on.... not yet..... not yet.........................NOW!

As most of you know, I'm teaching kids in a slum English (take that Darwin!... and All the English teachers who never gave me passing grades! and to those of you sending this post back with all the spelling and grammar errors highlighted!). The place is called Wazzipor and it is a slum not to far from the metro. When I first went there with my Nepali friend Yuvraj the kids were chasing our rickshaw screaming "KALI!!" (WWE wrestler) at me and "JACKY CHAN!" at Yuvraj. I don't think alot of white guys come in their neighborhood. It's been pretty fun the few times I've gone. I'm scheduled to go there every wensday and we get to make up are own curriculum, which makes it really fun.

Last week one of our students died. I had only met him a couple of times, and couldn't picture his face until someone showed me a photo (he's in that big group photo with me and the rest of VDS if you've seen it). His name is Umesh, and although he looked like he was 6, he was actually 12 (malnutrition). He went to a cheap, unlicensed, untrained chemist to get an injection for loose motion (probably caused by the water or food he's exposed to). The chemist gave him either an overdose of the medicine, or an expired injection gone toxic. Umesh reacted to the injection and died. The injection he had cost Rs.10 (about 20 cents). He could have had the same injection done by an actual doctor for 20 more rupees. His death was cause by poverty; a social crime, a social murder. Amy said the more they ask around, the more they hear these kinds of stories. It's the "norm" in the slum.

A few days after his death, we visited his mother just to offer some love and comfort. I found out that she was already a widow and had already lost her eldest son a few years ago. Her husband and eldest child both died of suicides at different times. Now that Umesh is dead she only has 2 children left. One of them is a cute little girl that I teach, and the other is a 17 year old boy (who looks like he should be 11 or 12) who is a drug addict. It was pretty sad. The Mother would softly cry at different times of our stay, but for the most part, she just carried this blank, hopeless stare that seems so familiar to so many of the poor here in India.

After we visited Umesh's family, we went to a peace rally to protest communalism and the neglect of the government with the flood victims of Vihar, and the victims of persecution in Orrisa. One theme of the night was "How close does the bloodshed have to get before we hear the cries of the victims?".

Well... it got pretty damn close.

Saturday was my day off, so I slept in and spent the late morning talking to mayang. At 1pm when the cyber cafe' opened, I headed to the hospital to check my email. I was online for 2 or 3 hours writing friends and researching international teaching techniques. Ashley was on and I got to touch base with her for the first time in what seems like years. As usual she was very refreshing to talk to (when she talks it seems as if she's been reading my mail). Around 4pm I was about to get off the the web and I was just wrapping up a message to April where I said "I'm going to go now and look for a cell phone in CP (Connaught Place)."

And that was my plan. At 5 I walked to the metro station and planned to go to CP (which is like the most popular shopping place in Delhi) to look for a cell phone, an ATM and maybe grab a coffee at Cafe Day. But I was feeling extremely unmotivated. I hadn't showered since the day before, and just the thought of all that shopping drained my energy. So I decided to go home first and take a nap.

When I woke up everyone was glued to the TV where they were watching the news in Hindi. Mayang and Yuvraj translated it for me. There were five bombings in three different areas in Delhi. All of them at real central shopping areas where people all over Delhi go, and the bombs went off at the peek of the shopping traffic. 3 of the bombings happened in 2 different places that I can't remember the name of, and then two bombs went of in CP (Connaught Place) at 6:20. CP was where I had been planning to go. In all 30 people were killed and 100 injured. The bombs where simple small chemical explosives, lined with ball bearings. They where put there by a Pakistani, anti Indian Muslim terrorist group Mujahideen.

It felt a lot like 9/11 for an hour for me, and I seemed to be the only one the least bit shaken by this. I realized it's just the difference between the American mentality and the Indians. In India, there has been invasion and killing for thousands of years, and around the world these things seem normal. Death is real. Not to say they didn't care, weren't afraid or even that they were callused, it's just part of Indian living. their attitude and outlook differed from mine.

When 9/11 happened America was so stunned and paralyzed by fear. So shocked that people from another country had caused death and devastation. We rallied under our patriotism and suddenly revenge seemed biblically sound. Revenge is the cause of these terror attacks. Every time we take an eye for an eye it just fuels more hate and more death. I immediately felt compassion not only for the victims and their family's, but for the people that were behind the bombings. For the Muslim familys in India that will be vicariously associated with these bombings because of their faith and probably persecuted by the Hindus. Revenge and civil war have scarred India for too long, and the violence needs to end. The only way this can be possible is if we learn to Love. Perfect love casts out fear (terror). Perfect love casts out terrorism. I'm not saying that I don't believe in justice, I just think most of the world needs to redefine it. Revenge is not Justice.

I had the thought right after this happened "will my parents make me come home? do I want to go home?". I don't want to go home. I don't see why I should leave here when my family has to stay. I wouldn't forgive myself if I let something like this send me running for the hills, abandoning my new family. I love it here.


Ha I'm surprised I haven't been mentioned on the local news! haha. It seems like they are always trying to connect themselves national and international events that have nothing to do with Fresno by leeching onto someone born from there who happens to be there. "josiah siemens, our beloved, native son of fresno, was 10 miles away from the bombings.... sleeping." I don't know why this thought cracks me up so much, it just does. hahaha

9/6/90 12am St. Stephens

Today had it's up's and downs. Even though it was a day early (2 days if you count time zones) I decided to call it my birthday.

At lunch they gave me the massive box that my dad shipped and they all watched as I pulled out a 12 pack of trail mix, multiple bags of sun flower seeds (which I'm currently chewing), a nerf set, an 18 pack of trident, beef jerky, books, Aprils beautiful bracelet, and an air mattress with "air pump sold separately" boldly written on the front of the box . Yuvraj, who makes bracelets himself, was very impressed by the bracelet, and my Naga (Mayang) enjoyed the beef jerky
"Wow. Are you really missing sunflower seeds?" ..."no... haven’t thought of them since I've been here" "What about trail mix was it your favorite snack?" ... "no.. I rarely EVER eat trail mix". Then I opened the card and Abel read over my shoulder everything out loud that he saw me looking at such as “Ya'll suck butt!” and “Nigga for life!” .It was nice to see everyone’s face.

They thought it was really funny that you guys would spend over $100.00 shipping
a box filled mostly with food over-seas, but I appreciated it. The tastes gave me this weird high…a strange euphoria that lasted 20 minutes. I was very confused by the familiar tastes. It felt like I was in the hostel, but the hostel was located on my property in California. As I chewed the trident I was up in my dad's airplane on the way to oceano. As I chewed the trail mix I had my back up against a tree in Yosemite, desperately thirsty, listing to Jordan begging his dad not to call the rangers for help.

Shortly after I came off my trident high, I had to gather up a few people and leave for the antodia orphanage to do some English tutoring. When we got to the metro station, I swiped my card and then put my card in my pocket. Julie and me packed ourselves into the most crowded tram I had been in yet. I couldn't move. The pressure from the multitude of unbathed men compacted me from every angle until I was packed into a small concentrate of myself. I had the thought "wow they could all have their hands in my pockets and I wouldn't know the difference".....well..... they did.

As I got off the metro and made my way to the exit where you have to swipe your card to leave, I patted down my pockets for my metro card and felt nothing. "hmm I distinctly remember putting that in my pockets". I checked my bag... nothing. Luckily I had about 20 rupees on the card (about 40 cents). "Jokes on them" I thought to myself, without realizing that they had also snagged my cell phone my 2000-rupee long distance card. When I realized that I had lost both of those I was a little crushed. I hadn't talked to April in over a week, and the climax of this week was going to be calling her.

So I went on and tutored the kids, bought a new metro card and got back on the metro with Amy to her house where her and her family were going to cook a homemade dinner for me. I had mentioned a couple weeks back that I was kinda missing Mexican food. So... they decided to make it for me. Homemade tortillas, beans, rice, cheese, salsa, chicken fajita, and tortilla chips. It tasted great. Very sweet of them.

I felt bad that they were going to such great lengths to make me feel at home, and I think they were trying to cure my homesickness... when I'm not actually home sick. Home is here for me right now. The home that I came from seems imagined and made up. Not that I'm not looking forward to going back... but it just doesn't seem real.