I Wish...

I was not raised in a religious family. The only church services I ever remember attending were ones I was dragged to by my grandmother when my sisters and I would visit for long weekends. I vividly remember wearing an itchy dress and sitting on an uncomfortable bench, listening to an old guy in an ugly coat lecture me for an hour. My grandmother died when I was 16, so my experiences as a church goer were minimal and seen through the eyes of a child; but I still remember looking around the big stone room and wondering what all of these people were doing here. Certainly, they weren’t ALL dragged here by pushy grandmothers, and there’s no way this weird leather bound book on the back of every bench was that interesting. Religion never found its way past my blonde curls and I submitted to pinching myself to stay awake during worship.

Later in my life my lack of religion almost became a burden. Being raised in a mostly white neighborhood north of St. Paul, Minnesota, there were a lot of schoolyard conversations about Sunday school, confirmation classes, and whether or not you would see your crush at church this week. I drifted along in the back ground of these conversations, nodding to every story and saying “I TOTALLY believe in God” whenever the judging eyes of 10 year olds would fall on me. I came to find out that lying is pretty clearly a no-no in the Bible, but no one caught me then, so I figured I was safe.

As a senior in college I spent 6 months in India studying international development. Even in the electric energy of Holy Week in Varanasi, I still only felt the slightest glimmer of faith. I still saw through the chanting and the head-hanging. All of the begging for forgiveness and searching for meaning through prayer was lost on me. It’s needless to say that when I “came out” as an atheist at 23, no one that knew me was shocked.

Today I am 28 and I’m still not a religious person, but the more I see in the world, the more I wish I was. I would give anything to be able to place blind trust in something I can’t see and feel like all of my steps are being guided by a miraculous force from on high. I want to resign to asking a god for help and being convinced that even the smallest happening could be “a sign”. I want so badly to believe that everything happens for a reason and that “reason” is the will of a benevolent ruler in the clouds.

Today I wish I was religious because my country is standing in the shadow of another mass shooting; this one at Stoneman Douglas High School in Florida. I wish that I could clasp my hands together and ask my god to give peace to the families that lost children and the community that was devastated. I wish I was religious so I could have somewhere to turn. I wish that I could demand answers and beg for change. I would ask why so many people that believe in him are opposed to scared women having access to safe abortion care, but are content to protect people that amass automatic weapons built to slaughter groups of humans. I would ask what has to happen next to convince people that this needs to stop. How do you explain this? How can my merciful god allow these things to keep happening? Did those teenagers, teachers, coaches, and children not pray hard enough to be protected? I wish I was religious so I could ask “why?” and feel like the answer of “God’s will” would be true enough. I wish I was religious because I would believe that my god looks out for the faithful. I’d be able to wake up in the morning feeling great that my god exists and wants to protect his children. I wish I was religious so I could lose my faith in my feckless and malevolent god today.

The truth is that I’m an atheist. I don’t believe that any god exists and that becomes clearer with every passing massacre. I’m left to clasp my hands over my eyes to catch my tears as I hope that those families and communities find peace again. I turn to my computer screen where I can read and take part in fruitless debates with other people who have no answers. But I can still demand answers and beg for change. I can ask my government honest questions about what we can do next, what those people did to deserve this, and how can we give them justice. How can we make sure this never happens again? The murder of people going about their day is not a partisan issue. This isn’t something that should go back and forth. There are clear answers about right and wrong here and I get to try to do something tangible. I can call my reps and I can write to my senators, but still all I can do is trust the process. I can wake up in the morning feeling fired up and angry. I can be ready to keep trying to fix an unbelievably broken system; and I don’t need religion to give my mission a meaning. Believing the world can be better is all the faith I need.

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Glass Half Full

I know that I am a fat lady. I embrace it. I am overweight and that is ok with me. You know why? Because I like food. I like food a lot. I like eating food, and drinking liquor, and I like laying down and if that means that I am overweight, I will accept that openly. But, in addition to being a fatty, I do enjoy physical activity from time to time. Not only does my job require me to be on my feet all day, but I do color guard in a drum and bugle corps. This means that I can't let myself go entirely and become a 2000 pound lump person; so I do my best to stay active once in a while.

In an effort to not humiliate myself with my lack of endurance come show time on the field, I make a point of running every day. Now, most people that have workout obsessions or use gym time and physical activity on a more regular basis than I do will say that exercise is a stress reliever, and it gives you a chance to clear your head. I always thought that was full of crap... But in the last few months, with my father being hospitalized regularly, the stress of graduation, trouble finding a job, and all of the other transitional 20-something crap that comes with it, I have found comfort in setting aside 30 minutes a day for myself; and more often than not, I use those 30 minutes to run.

While I will always be skeptical of people that are obsessed with working out, I have begun to understand the value of time spent exercising, if only for the opportunity for self reflection it provides. Rather than waiting until I'm laying in bed at night to reflect on my life, I can now do it while I'm jogging along a trail; and I'm coming to realize that allowing my pensive brain to work in the sunlight gives everything a new perspective, and my outlook becomes a little rosier. This became more clear than ever today:

As I ran down the last stretch of my usual running path, I came upon something stuck to the pavement. As I ran toward it, I assumed it was a dead leaf that just now blew from a tree, or an average piece of suburban litter. It wasn't until I almost stepped on it that I realized what it really was: a fully loaded, used condom. I almost broke my ankle trying to sidestep and avoid stomping directly on it, then craned my neck around to get a second look and confirm what it was as I ran past. Sure enough, I saw what I saw, shook my head, and kept on running.

Like I assume most peoples' would have been, my initial reaction was disgust. I scoffed and tried not to gag as I ran on, because human fluids being so carelessly discarded on a public street made my skin crawl. Not only that, but I don't particularly what latex and semen floating around in my storm drains any more than they undoubtedly already do. But as I ran the last feet to my house, I thought about how someone was in the position to throw their full condom onto the side walk. And while I didn't want to dwell on specifics of the act, I was humbled by the thought that even if it resulted in litter, someone out there had safe and responsible sex. Even though the method of discarding their birth control was less than responsible, at least someone didn't get pregnant or exposed to some form of STD. For some reason, the thought of strangers having practiced safe sex gave me a little glimmer of hope for humanity, and by the time I reached my driveway, I was smiling.

Every now and then I remember that, while people are often terrible and without redeeming virtues, and life is so often shitty and rarely provides excuse, there are little things that restore some faith. Like the hospital nurse that helps my dad to the bathroom without complaint, the jogger that stops mid-stride to pick up their dog's poop on the sidewalk, or the stranger that had the common decency to put on a condom before having sex with someone. Life would be a lot more positive if everyone could find 30 minutes a day to reflect on the little reasons to smile. And maybe by the time we get back to daily life and responsibilities, it'll be a little easier to keep moving forward.

Blasting Pasts and Burning Bridges

When I got my drivers license back in high school, my first car was a black 1990 Lincoln Mark VII. It had been traded through my family for about 8 years by the time it came to be mine, so it had seen its share of road even in the time since it belonged to the Stennes'. I don't know how many miles it had traveled because the odometer was broken. The fuel gauge was iffy and the radio stopped working randomly on my way to school one morning. The driver's side window didn't roll down, which made getting drive-through an adventure. The heat didn't work, the air-ride suspension would often not work on both sides so the car would be tilted, and the drivers seat was broken into an almost laying position. The car was worse for ware, that is for sure; but that car was my baby.

I named him Abe and he was my first love. He got me to school and work, cruised with me around New Brighton, and we handled our share of winter storms together. But Abe and I loved nothing more than the summer time. He loved the wind as much as I do, and an open sun roof was the key to life for the two of us. During the summer of 2008, I practically lived in that car. He was my sanctuary that summer and he helped foster some of the best relationships I've ever had. Regardless of how much I loved him, my time with him was short. In the spring of 2009, Abe's brakes went out and after searching for months to find parts for the old car, I work up one morning in August to find him gone.

There is no easy way to close a chapter of your life. It's hard to move on when the way you felt still lingers behind everything you see and do. With Abe, it's hard to think about him being gone, because by now he's gone for good; but most relationships have a way of aching after their end. Often, it's the ones you will never get back that hurt the hardest. It's not easy to be left behind, and it's harder still to look back at your life and wonder why you cut the ties you did; to look at the charred remains of the bridges you've burned and not regret the parts of your life that have led you to where you are now.

When I think about Abe, I think of June, 2008. I think of young love and Taco Bell, and being the happiest I've ever been. But I always remember that life is brief; and that while memories of love and happiness are nice, what's past has passed. You can't UNburn a bridge and you can't rekindle love that has long since fizzled out. The only hope you have is to love fully while you can, give with a whole heart, and never lose the ability to look past the crap that made things difficult. After you can manage that, all you'll remember are the summers with an open sun roof  in a car that never steered you wrong.

RIP Abe. You are deeply missed.

Week 14

Saturday 26/11/2011- Sunday 4/12/2011

Last few days in Udaipur: Over. Back in Jaipur, working on final seminar business... HOLY CRAP!!

This week has been an interesting one for sure. I started the week doing Focus Group Discussions in the slums around Udaipur. I learned a lot about the plight of these women in relation to their maternal and reproductive health, and I really had my eyes opened to the issues of people unlike myself. After speaking to the women in the slums, our project really started to come together and Annie and I spent the next few days compiling a report on our findings. On Thusrday afternoon, we finally presented our information and made our plea to Jatan to continue our research. The whole project was an awesome experience and, even if it was disorganized and disappointing sometimes, I wouldn't trade it for anything.

The week ended with us being given friday off and spending the day finally seeing the Udiapur tourist sites. We climbed to a temple on top of a mountain, took a boat out to a beautiful island garden in the middle of a lake, and went out to dinner at a roof top restaurant in the old city. It was an awesome end to a less than satisfying time in Udaipur.

On saturdau morning we all piled into a van and returned to Jaipur for our final seminar. It was a long tough trip, but it feels AMAZING to be back in my Indian home. It's only made better by the fact that I'm staying with my Indian parents for 2 nights here. Tomorrow night we head off to a hotel, but for last night and tonight at least, Lauren and I are reunited and we're happy to be back at D-39 Devi Path. From here, we spend the next few days doing semester wrap up, and by this time next week, I'll be almost home!

It's crazy to think of how the time has flown by. I left my home in July, and it's nuts to think that it's already December. Don't get me wrong, I've very excited to get home. I miss my family and friends and I'm anticipating my homecoming more and more every day. Only a few more days and I'll be back to the familiar and I am so looking forward to it all. We will see how I feel in the next few days..

:}

Week 13

Saturday 19/11/2011- Saturday 26/11/2011

This is it! The last full week in Udaipur is (for the most part) behind me. I have 6 days left here before I head back to Jaipur and my MSID final seminar. About 8 days in the Pink City, then I’m back to Minnesota and the USA for a while. It’s strange to think of where all of the time has gone.

This week has actually been an eventful one, which is a welcome change these days. Last Saturday, Annie and I were finally given a project that relates to our areas of study and it’s been very good to actually learn about stuff we’re interested in; rather than just do the busy work of playing with kids because our staff had no other work for us. We were given an assignment to survey and study the women of the Ram Nagar and Devali slums in Udaipur in order to better understand their reproductive and maternal health status and what they need as far as education and access. On Saturday and Sunday, Annie and I spent some time putting together the basic skeleton of what we wanted to do for this research project. After some working it over, we went into the office on Monday in hopes that we could talk with our supervisor about the next steps to take, but a miscommunication meant that she left early in the day without telling us where she was going and that she wasn’t coming back; leaving the two of us to sit and waste 3 hours waiting for her return. We finally left the office frustrated and proceeded to go home. On the way, we stopped and bought Sita Phul and pineapple and returned home to have a fruit feast! I will tell you what, WOW. It was so nice to throw caution to the wind and eat (possibly contaminated/bug filled/ dirty) street fruit, and it was totally worth it. Best meal I’ve eaten in a long time.

On Tuesday, we got into the office to hopefully work out some more of our plan and thankfully ran into our boss who offered more help than our supervisor the day before. The only problem was that we walked into the middle of a big moving project. This past week, we have been moving our office from one building to another one not far away, and Tuesday was a big bulk moving day. After a brief discussion about our plans for the project, we left the office to find a quiet place to write our research proposal; which of course meant we went home and did it quickly so we could have the rest of the day to relax.

On Wednesday we finally began our interviews of women in the slums. We got a translator and finalized our questions before heading out to the field to begin our research. We took Wednesday to interview women in the village of Ram Nagar and Thursday to interview the women of Devali. On Thursday, after our interviews, we went on a tour of the slum itself and got to see where the women live, and in the cases of some, where they gave birth to their children. The whole interview process offered some very interesting insight into lives so different from my own. Also on Thrusday, the American students from MSID and other Americans we have met since being here went out to celebrate Thanksgiving with south Indian food. It was fun to see everyone and have that little taste of friendship and camaraderie that is usually so abundant on this holiday at home. It was a very much needed outing.   

Since then, Annie and I have been slowly compiling our data into something remotely understandable. We have been slowly working on trying to find a way to make the small amount of information we have into a proposal that could ultimately enrich the lives of many women for years to come. Of course finding a way to make that actually happen is another story.

It’s strange how close to the end I find myself. My next posts will be my last ones from India and it’s so bizarre to think that I’ve been blogging this whole time so continuously. These pages saw everything I did and I can’t believe that soon my weekly posts about my exciting travels in India are going to be ending.

I know that I’ve spent the last few weeks complaining a lot about my internship and my homestay and about a lot of other things, both publicly on here and privately to friends and family, and now that the end is so near I find myself looking back on those complaints often. I have tried to make the best out of these weeks in Udaipur and I’ve done the best I can with what I’ve been provided; the thing that I think I’ve been lacking is the proper attitude. Since after Diwali, when I thought I was going to be starting important work and of course didn’t, I allowed my disappointment to take me over and it’s been my downfall for most of this time. Now, as I face the fact that I’m leaving very shortly, I realize that once I’m gone I really will miss this city.

I feel like it’s a strange phenomenon that I’ve come across before, where after I leave a less than satisfactory experience, I look back on the time and notice the good in it. I know that when I get home, I’ll look back on my time here in Udaipur in such a more positive light. For now though, my eyes are still on getting out of here, back to Jaipur and my MSID friends, then ultimately home to my family and homey comforts.

To say I’m getting anxious in an understatement…