What?

Today is my father’s birthday! Happy birthday, Dad! I don’t have a phone here so I don’t know how I would call to wish you a happy birthday. I hope an email and a blog announcement is sufficient. I am going to ask around whether there is a phone somewhere around here where I can pay to make an international telephone call.

Since beginning at Gram Chetna I have had limited contact with Big Boss, or Mr. Om Pradesh Sharma. We call him Big Boss or O.P. instead of his long name. I’m not sure if they are nicknames he is aware of, or if they are what the subordinates call him behind his back. He never speaks to me anyway, so it doesn’t matter as far as I‘m concerned. Instead of getting my directions and assignments from Big Boss, I have directions given to me by Rajiv and sometimes John. I usually have a very limited understanding of what I’m supposed to be doing because of this. The other guy who speaks English, Prashand, was off getting married for the last three weeks. He just arrived back at Gram Chetna today. He called me over to his desk for a chat, and now I finally have an idea what is expected of me.

Saying Big Boss never speaks to me is a bit of an exaggeration. About a week ago, he came up to me and John and asked what we were up to. He nodded and smiled as John told him about the annual reports. Then he turned to me and I told him what things I was working on. I write things as if I am multi-tasking, which I’m not really doing. I told him I was wrapping up the annual report on education. I didn’t add that I was moving on to any other reports because I thoroughly intend on avoiding that like the plague. Big Boss then told me that when I was done with the report on education, he would like for me to research additional funding sources on the internet, and then start writing for grants.

I could not have been happier with that news! Writing for money is forte which I like to think I can do in my sleep. I was overjoyed! Yes, I was overjoyed. That was until my conversation with Prashand a few moments ago. He explained that they have an amazing staff at Gram Chetna, especially the field workers. The area in which they lack is the documentation side. He also explained that Gram Chetna’s relationship with a major funding source is coming to an end soon. Annual reports, and other documentation, need to be excellent this year to secure other funding sources. Finding these other funding sources has hypothetically been assigned to me, but the primary focus right now is finishing high quality reports to show to potential money granting organizations in the coming months.

Uggghhhh!!! I thought it was going to be smooth sailing from here on out. But instead, I must write more reports on programs I know nothing about. Oh, the disappointment!

In other news, I had my three-weeks-in-India meltdown yesterday. Well, calling it a meltdown is blowing it a bit out of proportion. Basically, I have been very frustrated with many things since arriving in India, and specifically Gram Chetna. My frustrations are primarily caused by constantly being surrounded by Indian men. It’s not really worth going into detail over. I’m a firm believer that if you don’t have anything nice to say, write your cynical friend an email. But certainly don’t blog about it. Also, I am fully aware that I have only been in close contact with a small group of rural, conservative men and that may not be an accurate representation of the entire male population in India.

Anyway, yesterday morning I was feeling especially annoyed over three weeks worth of nonsense. And then I had the unfortunate experience of spilling boiling hot tea on my leg. At the time it seemed entirely appropriate to stomp off to my bedroom like a drama queen. I just wanted to get away from the men! They are everywhere! Burping, farting, spitting, peeing on the side of the road, showering with the door open, telling me my nickname is baby doll… Gag.

So I stormed off. The Indians I have met don’t really understand the need for “alone time“, so everyone thought I was embarrassed and needed to see a doctor. I kept telling them I was fine, but they simply didn’t realize that I wanted them to kindly go away. After two hours of sulking in my bedroom, it was time to head into the office. I walked in, still annoyed, and John asked if I was OK. I explained that I was just a little sick of the place. That was not entirely true, but John is in obvious need of empathy skills, and hasn’t shown himself to really understand the difficulties of being a female traveler in this backward part of India. Regardless, he wisely advised me to find some sanity saving activity to do that can emotionally take me away from this place and these men everyday. He explained that without a solo activity, Gram Chetna can easily make a person crazy. He exercises on the roof every morning; that is his release.

I thought long and hard all day yesterday about what I wanted to do for my solo activity. I thought I could take a walk, but decided walking in the desert heat sounded a little too much like spending an hour in hell. There are two bikes here, one has a flat tire and the other belongs to Govind. He would surely let me borrow it in the mornings. So yesterday at about 12:30 in the afternoon, I decided that going for a daily bike ride would be my solo sanity saving activity.

I woke up this morning looking forward to my adventure! After tea I asked Govind to lend me his bike and I was off. I can’t even describe the looks I received. First of all, seeing a female foreigner in this part of Rajasthan is odd enough. But if she’s alone and riding a bicycle you have something to stop and stare at. Most people just dropped their jaws and watched me ride pass. Others yelled out greetings and waved. I decided to be as friendly as possible, so I waved and smiled at everybody. It was ridiculous! Seeing a tall, skinny, foreign girl riding a bike, waving at everyone and wearing a big, dumb smile surely gave them something to talk about all afternoon.

Haha! Awesome.

The bike ride also gave me an opportunity to take some photos. I haven’t been taking many pictures because I don’t want to alienate myself from the local people, or the Gram Chetna staff. It’s obvious I stand out here; but I am able to put people at ease by behaving a certain way. And that way of behaving does not include playing the role of photo journalist. But somehow the ridiculousness of a foreigner riding a bicycle makes certain behavior more appropriate. On the bike I’m not an American girl interning at Gram Chetna. I’m an outrageously friendly and bizarre lone tourist on a bicycle, and I am able to take all the photos I want. And I do.

I’ll end this entry with a funny, yet scary little anecdote. There is a water cooler right outside of the main office here at the organization. The staff says it also filters the water, but I’m not sure about that. I’ve been drinking it for about two weeks and I’ve just now gotten over the stomach issues it originally gave me. Anyway, yesterday afternoon, John left the office to fill his bottle and he came back chuckling to himself. I asked him what was so funny and he told me this story. He’s always had strange circulation in his hands; sometimes they feel like they have fallen asleep and get tingly. When he touched the cooler his hands went tingly and he thought they were acting up again. He then realized that the water cooler was in a puddle of water and somehow an electrical current was running through the entire appliance. Just as he realized it was electricity and not his circulation problems, Rajiv walked by. He told Rajiv that the cooler was electrified and someone should call an electrician. Rajiv calmly explained that there was nothing wrong with the cooler. John just wasn’t used to electricity, yet.

When he told me this story I, of course, had to check it out for myself. The cooler was in fact electrified. And it’s happened three times since. It’s a really weak current, so it really just tickles the skin and not much more. Later that day Rajiv asked me if he could get some photos off my camera. His battery ran out while in the field yesterday and luckily I had grabbed my camera before heading out the door. I plugged the USB cord into his computer and ZING! The metal decorative accents on the outside of my camera shocked the crap out of me. This time it was no tingle, it burned! I was worried for my camera so I quickly uploaded the pictures and unplugged it. I told Rajiv, and again he dismissed the problem as nothing. He said “all cameras have a current.” Whatever that means…

This would all be fairly comical if Prashand’s new bride’s brother didn’t just die in an electrical accident last week. I don’t know the details of what happened. The young man was 24 years old and just doing some repairs around his house. As I sit writing this at my desk, I look up and see a fan hooked up to electricity by two wires stuck in an electrical socket. Now the water cooler is electrified and it’s normal that a digital camera would shock the hell out of a person when it is plugged into a computer.

All I can do is be careful. Let's just hope I don't get electrocuted while writing an annual report. That death would be much worse than drowning or burning.

Love you!!!xoxo