Tuesday, October 14 ("Let the games begin"/ Chennai to Delhi, INDIA): Our group gathered in the union this afternoon to organize for a 2:30pm departure time. Originally we expected 70 participants, but two people cancelled; one person failed to show up. Great, 70 to 67…what a relief (hear the sarcastic tone & stress level of my voice). Indian customs told us, for security reasons, we could not carry toiletries or batteries onto the plane. At the same time SAS Field Office told me & Rachel not to allow anyone to check baggage. Unfortunately, this created an obstacle: what to do with 67 people's toiletries AND batteries. Let the circus games begin…

As a result of these limitations, we had to place all batteries and toiletries into three large bags that could be checked in. About two days before our departure we sent students a note instructing each person to bring travel sized toiletries. Do people follow instructions? Rarely. Now, imagine this: all batteries were labeled and dumped into large Ziploc baggies. Then, 67 people stuffed batteries and toiletries (of varying sizes) into three duffel bags. I don't know how, but we did it. Of course students were upset because they wanted to have the ability to take pictures (honestly, I believe being without cameras forced everyone to be present to the moment and take in as much as possible). In addition to the two known withdrawals, another student did not arrive nor pick up the phone in his room, so we left the union without him.

Although Rachel and I are colleagues, I have not worked with her. Rachel serves as a graduate student in the Field Office organizing field trips, while I mostly interact with students outside the classroom. So being trip leaders together was our first collaborative effort. As we prepared to lead this trip, we were told we would have guides working with us in each location. We agreed to separate the group into two groups of 34 students. She'd lead a bus and I'd lead a bus for the duration of the trip. With that, we all piled into two non air-conditioned buses and traveled 45 minutes from the ship to the airport.

Once we arrived to the airport, another set of guides greeted us. They gave us plane tickets to distribute to everyone and helped us check three toiletry bags. After we distributed tickets, we headed toward the security check point. Just as we were standing in line, a guide told us an SAS student was outside, so the guide agreed to go outside to collect him. (What we later learned was the student slept in his friend's room so she could wake him up for the departure, but he told her the wrong time. When he woke up and went to the union, he figured out what happened and took a taxi from Chennai to the airport. Goodness, he was lucky!).With the addition of one person, our group increased from 67 to 68.

As we stood in line, it became clear there were two lines: one for men, another for women. There always seem to be more men than women, so all the women patiently stood in line. Rachel and I intentionally stood last in line to make sure we did not miss any students. Once we reached the front of the line, the security officer would not let us proceed through security; he said our flight was not leaving as soon as others who were behind us. We stood in line about ten minutes longer and whenever we asked a question, he completely ignored us. My blood was boiling! Finally, he arbitrarily decided to let us go through security. As women, we had to place our things on the same area as men did, but we had to walk through a completely different metal detector. I never thought I would be insulted or annoyed, because I know this custom of men over women exists, but experiencing it is a whole other ballgame…my patience was truly tested.

Our two hour flight arrived to Delhi without any complications. We picked up the toiletry bags (can't forget those!) and drove 45 minutes from the airport to Hotel Parkland in New Delhi. When we arrived at the hotel, staff greeted us with yellow and orange floral leis. Everyone checked in (Rachel & I shared a room)…all picked up their toiletries & batteries…ate dinner…and went to bed.

Wednesday, October 15 ("Taj Mahal"/Delhi to Agra, INDIA): Yesterday Rachel and I traveled from Chennai to Delhi with 68 people; today 68 took a train from Delhi to Agra. My two word summary: HOT MESS! Okay, okay, it wasn't a complete hot mess, but it was a terribly long, stressful, overwhelming, stimulating day.

Last night we made sure each room had a 4:15am wake up call. We had to be in the hotel lobby by 4:45am to board the bus. Our Delhi tour guides introduced us to Raj & Shawu, who would be serving as our permanent guides over the next two days. Raj agreed to partner with me and Shawu with Rachel. I got on the bus and counted 34 people. Since we had 34 people, Raj instructed the driver to leave. After 5 minutes, the bus was in reverse…heading back to the Hotel Parkland. Shawu called Raj and said Rachel's bus was missing two students.

When we returned to the hotel, Rachel said she did a name roll call; I also did a name roll call and figured out that two of her students were on my bus. So although Raj and I correctly counted 34 people, two were on the wrong bus. Yesterday we thought we had been abundantly clear that each person needed to stay on the right bus, otherwise confusion would ensue. Well, I guess the message wasn't as clear as we had hoped.

Remember the kid from yesterday who met us at the airport?! Well, today he and his roommate, overslept. Once we figured that out, hotel staff went to wake them up. Anyway, the two students left my bus for Rachel's, then the two who overslept quickly came onto my bus. By 5am my stress level quadrupled. In the moment I realized that I would have to work in partnership with Raj a little more and not completely rely on him for all small details.

Our itinerary for the day was quite ambitious. We drove 45 minutes from Hotel Parkland to the Shatadi Express Railway (think Amtrak). As we piled onto the street outside the Railway, we immediately walked into people sleeping on the streets—not just one or two, but rows upon rows of people. Street lights barely lit the ground and pungent odors filled the air.

The two hour train transported us from Delhi to Agra. We got off the train, onto a bus, with Raj as our guide. Raj was born and raised in India, and has a PhD in Religious Studies from the University of Delhi. He was a wealth of knowledge throughout the day. So we started our journey at Fatephur Sikri, a city about 25 miles outside of Agra. This city was built by Emperor Akbar as his capital to honor a Muslim saint. The red sandstone palaces are remarkably preserved and the site was beautiful! As we were leaving the palace, a snake charmer seduced a snake. Yikes, cool, but scary at the same time.

After Sikri, we left the city of Agra and drove 45 minutes to Saga Department Store to see marble production. I never knew this, but marble is easily accessible in India and the carving technique originates from Indian culture. In the basement of Saga Store, I watched two artisans mold marble, which was neat. Students were not interested in the demonstration, but I admired how much time and energy artisans invest in the process. Oh, the reason the Taj Mahal has been preserved so well, is largely due to use of marble in its construction. I also learned that real passmina scarves are made from silk and baby goat hair. An authentic passmina is designed to cover a woman's body and provide warmth in the winter/ cool in the summer. I couldn't resist buying one!

After lunch, we drove to Agra Fort, which contained halls and palaces of the Mughals, who built the largest dynasty in the world. Just as a sidenote, many America celebrities say they're "moguls"…I think they're referring this great dynasty. Anyway, the highlight of our day was seeing one of the most admired monuments in the world, the Taj Mahal—a 17th century mausoleum in white marbal built by Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan in meomory of his queen Mumtaz Mahal. The Taj Mahal is an architectural marvel because of its perfect symmetry of design and construction. It was absolutely beautiful! The pictures don't look real, nor do my photos adequately capture how stunningly it is. Many people asked to take pictures with me. Indians seemed to think I was German or Indian…all day people said they loved my hair…asked where I was from…stared at me, which felt strange, but whatever. After Taj Mahal, we quickly ate dinner, loaded back on the bus, and headed to the Shatadi Railway for an 8pm departure.

While waiting for the train, Rachel and I were talking to Raj and, as I turned, I saw a disfigured man smash a 10 year boy into the ground. It was such an alarming sight and I wasn't sure what to do. Before I could ask Raj what was happening, the man walked away from the boy. Then, women and little, little babies came up to students asking for food and money. All of this was happening simultaneously. Several SAS women bought food and drinks for them. As I turned my head again, I noticed young children playing on the train tracks that our train would be arriving on. Raj explained the begging subculture and said the little boy was on the older man's territory, thus inviting a fight.

Raj was speaking as I turned back to a crowd of students. A male SASer stood tall in front of a little girl, motioned for her to be quiet, bent forward, and proceeded to give her money. Technically the little girl was on the older man's territory, so the student was trying to protect her from being punished.

All day I was counting, yelling, walking, checking, thinking, hearing, and witnessing so many new things. I was exhausted in a way I never experienced. I was trying to wrap my brain around everything that I had seen. Throughout the day I saw many vibrant images of women. First, a little girl hanging outside Agra Fort…another group of women piled onto the back of a truck…three older women wrapped in traditional Indian clothes…others demonstrated strength as they balanced bricks or bowls on their heads. India seemed to be such a complex place—with the beauty of Taj Mahal and the most extreme poverty on the streets. I observed so many newly exciting and painful sites, and the pace of the day had not allowed me to fully experience my emotions. The male SASer was sensitive and demonstrated care/concern for that little girl, which caused me to be overcome with emotion. Between seeing the old man hurt the little boy and the images I had witnessed throughout the day, I finally gave myself a moment to take off my trip leader hat to be myself. I cried. Human life is valuable. Yes, there is homeless and poverty in America, but not the same way as it exists in India; the human condition is not like ANYTHING I've ever seen! Why are people living this way in India?

The train arrived just as I was pulling out tissue to blow my nose. I was able to sit next to Shawu, a 62 year old Indian male who was able to answer my questions and engage in insightful conversation about the culture. When we exited the train, Rachel told me a male student threw up on a table in the train as the group was exiting—likely due to alcohol consumption. This turn of events totally ruined my evening. Once we returned to the hotel in Delhi, Rachel & I talked to him and threatened to send him back to the ship. He told us he was motion sick, but surrounding students said he had been drinking on the train ride back to Delhi.

Thursday, October 16 ("Rikshaw Rides"/ Agra to Veranasi, INDIA): Because yesterday felt so chaotic, we layed down the law today. Rachel, Raj, Shawu and I agreed that if anyone failed to return to the bus on time, or if anyone separated from the group, he/she would be responsible for getting back to the hotel. Today's itinerary would be more intense that yesterday AND a 68 person group would be walking in high traffic areas, where one could easily become separated from the group.

In addition to 5:45am wake up calls, I personally knocked on each door. At breakfast we recollected all batteries and toiletries and checked out of Hotel Parkland in Delhi. We loaded onto the bus, toured Delhi, and departed (by air) from Delhi to Varanasi. Varanasi is the oldest inhabited city in the world, and supposedly, Varanasi has been the center of civilization over 2000 years; it's also a holy city for Hindus.

We checked into Hotel Radisson (even nicer than the first hotel) in Varanasi, ate lunch, and went out into the city. In Varanasi sidewalks were an after thought and lanes were merely a suggestion. There were cars, bikes, people, and cows in the streets. It looked and sounded completely chaotic. People drove where they pleased, cows walked into oncoming traffic, and bikes crowed the streets.

First stop—a tour of Sarnath, the ruins of the ancient city where Buddha preached his first sermon. According to Raj, Sarnath is as holy to Buddhists as Varanasi is to Hindus. We walked down the street and also visited the New Buddhist temple.

Around early evening, we were scheduled to visit the banks of the River Ganges. Raj arranged rikshaw rides because the big tour bus was not allowed beyond a particular point. A rikshaw is a method of transportation; the front is a bike and the back is a seat for passengers. Students were excited about riding on the rikshaws, but I was nervously hoping everyone would arrive in the right location. Raj asked me to ride in the last rikshaw with him. OH MY GOODNESS!!! That was the wildest mode of transportation I have ever experienced. I felt so bad that this frail Indian man was pulling me and Raj around; this rikshaw driver was working hard to keep pace. During the ride I wasn't sure where to put my hands, because you kinda have to hold on to the seat and be prepared for abrupt stops. To make the experience more fun, one also has to strategically place feet on a special bar in the rikshaw. My heart was pounding in my throat until we arrived to the River.

Now, the River experience was challenging because thousands of Indian people also come to the Ganges for evening prayer. Shawu and Raj lead us to the Ganges River and we witnessed the Ganga Aarti, essentially a prayer service of five elements. We let the prayer ten minutes early to avoid the mass exodus. Thank goodness Raj had the idea to give each rikshaw driver/student passenger a number. The driver and student memorized the number and at the end of the night driver/students were reunited. At the end of our two hour excursion, I had to wait for Raj; he did one final sweep to make sure we did not 'misplace' anyone. It was pitch black as I waited for Raj and all these people continuously came up to me to sell things, or ask "where are you from"... Anyway, students returned from their rikshaw experience to the bus without any problems, and Raj & I were the last two on the bus. WHOA!

Friday, October 17 ("Dawn at the River Ganges"/ Veranasi to Delhi, INDIA): Another 4:15am wake up call. We planned to watch sunrise at River Ganges. By not showing up on time, four people opted out of the experience. We boarded a boat and sailed along the river to witness a spectacle of religious practice that has continued unchanged over centuries. Essentially, at dawn, locals come together at the holy waters for a ritual immersion and prayer to release their souls from the cycle of rebirth. It was such a spectacular sight to watch the sunrise on the left and the moon disappear on the right. As we sailed in a small boat, many people saw a dead child floating in the Ganges—another site that caught me off guard. In India, children younger than eight years old are not buried because their souls are untainted. Then, men were cemating bodies for burial next to people who were bathing/praying in the Ganges.

Immediately after watching people in the Ganges, Shawu walked us through narrow streets flanked with shops selling things…people sleeping on the streets…cows pooping next to sleeping people…vendors cooking food. In just a few hours, we had experienced Varanasi, the heart beat India—a complex place for an outsider. From my experience, Delhi seemed to be a more modern/ bustling city, while Varanasi seemed to be a pilgrimage place (not advanced from the 1800s).

Afterwards, we returned to the hotel for breakfast and checked out. Then we went to Indian Art Emporium and watched silk weaving. Varanasi is known for its silk production, so we went to a local place with silk table cloths, silk scarves, silk hats, anything silk. At 12noonish we left for the airport to fly from Varanasi to Delhi, then Delhi to Chennai.

India was an exhausting experience for me. It felt like I had been there for weeks, instead of days. In America we have boundaries, law, and order that protects us from mayhem and chaos. I have never seen discarded dead bodies, naked children in the streets, disregarded women, or grey drinking water. All the boundaries that I take for granted in the US, were not protecting in India. I witnessed exploitation and oppression like I've never before seen. It begs the question of basic human rights in the 21st century. Do I accept injustice as a norm if I fail to act? Although I'm not living in such horrific conditions, should I be engaged in preventing these human rights violations? As a citizen from a developed country, what is my part—my responsibility? And, if I didn't know people were living like this, how many other Americans are blind to what's happening in India?

I had a transformational experience and I never want to forget what I smelled, witnessed, and heard in India. There must be a way to make a contribution. It feels right to be concerned about the human condition. My heart is heavy. My heart is open. My heart is searching.

Saturday, October 18 ("I'm a woman first"/Delhi to Chennai, INDIA): What was I thinking? Why did I volunteer to lead a service project…the day after my trip to India? I did not anticipate I would feel so exhausted emotionally, mentally, and physically. Last night we returned to Chennai close to 12midnight and by the time we organized toiletry bags, it was 1:30am. Although I was tired, I woke up at 6:30am and went to the Union for a 7am departure to Sri Sayee Vivkeanada, a school serving the economically disadvantaged in Chennai. Before we boarded the bus, each person was given a box breakfast.

We arrived to the school after a 45 minute drive and teachers, administrators, and students greeted us with music. Mrs. Ghandimarie, head mistress, provided a brief orientation about the school, then SAS students were split into teams to work with the children. SASers were helping the children practice their English and playing learning games with the kids.

While students worked with the kids, I talked to Mrs. Ghandimarie. In the end, I'm so glad that I went on the service visit. Mrs. Ghandimarie struck me as an outstanding woman. She shared a number of insights with me, but I was especially touched by her comment, "I do it (teaching) to serve my people (poor people in India)." Mrs. Ghandimarie spoke at length about the importance of not being selfish and continued to share how each person should work to improve their society. Her message was timely, especially given my recent thoughts/experiences in India.

After our conversation, she recalled all the SASers, gave each person fresh cut coconut water, and asked children to perform traditional Indian dance moves (then she told SASers to contribute to cultural sharing by singing American songs/ dances). When we returned to the bus, someone took out all the bread and fruit we did not eat for breakfast and distributed it to hungry people in the streets. This simple act helped people in the most basic way. What else can be done? At this school…somewhere else in India? According to Mrs. Ghandimarie, teachers earn about USD$2,400 yearly and it's only USD$3,000 to build a classroom in the school. Maybe I can raise money to help build a classroom, or fundraise to help a few kids go to school for free, or money for a proper playground. A little seems to go a long way…

Later in the evening I was looking through my pictures and noticed a number of my images were of women. Instantly I realized that my identity as a woman means more to me than my ethnicity. Prior to India, I would have said being black, followed by being a women surface as the two most important aspects of my identity. However, after traveling in India, I would now say that the reverse is true. I more highly value being a woman and I did not know that about myself.