Kanda

     Our next stop was a small village to the west of Kausani called Kanda. Our time in Kanda can be mostly summed up by three things: our service project, chocolate, and the day we left.

     For our service project, we were living and working with an organization called ROSE. ROSE works with foreign volunteers to better the community and we were going to spend our time rebuilding a caved-in roof on the house of one of the villagers. Now, rebuilding a roof may sound like an impressive job but don't be fooled; for at least half the time, our work consisted of sifting gravel and bagging the sifted sand. Evidently, making cement requires inordinate amounts of fine sand, a fact I am now well aware of thanks to the 60 bags we produced over the course of 4 or 5 days. Still, heaving a shovel of gravel against a grate is surprisingly satisfying and, after a week of total relaxation, some manual labor was definitely appreciated. After being rained out for another 4 days, we did complete the project on our last day in the village. If anyone's curious, making a cement roof in a rural Indian village is actually fairly simple ordeal. All you need to do is get about 30 workers one morning, mix (lots of) sand, water, and cement mix manually on the ground, and then literally pass up big platefuls of the wet concoction and dump the goop on the roof. In about 2 hours, the house will be covered by a lovely and sturdy cement slab.

     As for chocolate, we were addicted. I probably ate as much of the stuff in one day as I normally do in one month at home. The food at ROSE was good but consisted of variations of the same thing for every meal and so the necessity of some dietary supplements became immediately apparent. The chocolate in the village mostly consisted of slightly melted Cadbury 'Dairy Milks" and Kit Kats but it didn't seem to matter as long as the candy faintly resembled real chocolate. In fact, one of the highlighting discoveries of the week came one day when Katie and I were checking out a store in the village, about a 20 minute walk from our house. Katie was perusing the shop’s Cadbury selection and tried to see if they had any larger bars by asking "Barra Walla? Bigger one?" The shopkeeper looked confused for a couple seconds and then his face lit up and he motioned for us to wait. He went to the back of his shop, opened his refrigerator, and pulled out a black box. I had already bought everything I wanted but I couldn't help but be a little curious about the contents of the mysterious container. He blew some dust off the top of the box and, I'm not kidding, opened it as if showing us some fine jewelry or precious stones. The box was full of average size bars of chocolate and so Katie started explaining again that she wanted a bigger size, not a different kind. I saw the brand name was "Fun Tan" and was about to dismiss the bars when I noticed in small letters underneath the words "Dark Chocolate." The storekeeper was sold out within two days.

     And then there was the day we left. Uttarakhand, the region we were in, had received record amounts of rainfall that year and many of the roads had been wiped out by landslides and debris. Even though the train station was only usually an eight hour jeep ride away, we decided to leave a day early to ensure we made our train back to Delhi. So, bright and early at 7:00 am on Tuesday morning, we packed up all our stuff, left Rose and walked half an hour to the village where we could catch a jeep. The direct road had been washed out so we were going to have to take a longer, roundabout route that required switching jeeps several times. I took my trusty car-sick medicine immediately and by our first car switch, was beginning to feel the drowsiness side-effects. I woke up two hours later when we switched jeeps yet again and then one hour later when we hit a road block. We didn't know how long it would take to clear the roadblock and heard there were several others so we decided to hike 2 kilometers past the road blocks and catch a jeep on the other side. 2 kilometers turned into 5 kilometers which turned into 7 kilometers which turned into a 12 kilometer or 7.5 mile or 3 and a half hour hike. Except for the paved roads we were walking on, the trek felt like any backpacking trip and we passed the time by talking, listening to music, and even playing some trail games. We finally reached the end of the road-blocked section and took a short drive to the nearby city of Almora, where we decided to spend the night. The trip from Kanda to Almora normally takes 2 hours. It had been 11 and half since we left ROSE. The next day went a bit a smoother, with only a 9 hour Jeep ride to the train station, which we arrived at with plenty of time to catch our ride to Delhi. 
     Our 32 hour journey was exhausting, but also incredibly exhilarating and exciting. It may have taken 4 times as long as usual, but we learned a lot more about expectations, flexibility, determination, and optimism than we could have possibly learned by simply sitting in a car for 8 hours.  I don’t know if I’ve ever enjoyed a hot bath and real bed as much as I did that night in Almora, but I do believe the adventure was one of the best ways we could have possibly ended our time in the mountains and geared up for our time in Banaras.

Kausani

      After arriving in Delhi and taking a couple days to get our bearings (and buy traditional clothes), we took an overnight train from the capital to the northern state of Uttarakhand. From there, we took a jeep to the small village of Kausani. The ride was pretty uneventful although I think I should mention that over the course of the 8 hour drive, I discovered the wonders of car-sick medicine. Where those magic pills have been all my life, I really don't know, but I mention them because I am certain that our travels in the mountains would have turned out very differently without them.
     In Kausani, we stayed at a hotel/resort/retreat called the Chevron Eco-lodge and the going was easy, to say the least. We were supplied with huge, delicious, regular meals, comfy beds, Western toilets, hot water, and a never-ending supply of fresh chai. Our days were mostly filled with food, briefings, exploring, journaling, and bonding.
     That being said, for two hours every day I was invariably wrenched out of this bubble and thrust into the difficulties of learning a new language. Hindi is hard. Binitji is a wonderful teacher but I still ended every class feeling completely lost. On our expeditions to the village center, we tried to put what we’d learned to use and I couldn’t help but laugh about what my stammerings must have sounded like to the villagers. Most likely something equivalent to “..How…are you? I are good! How much …does…err…one hour!...cost?!”
     Then again, one day at the internet café, I glanced over to the screen next to me and noticed that every time the boy did some action on his computer game, the words “Spicy Move!” would flash in bright orange letters. I laughed and then involuntarily thought “Spicy! Like..masala! masaaledar!” I pictured Binitji saying “Make a sentence!” and thought “khanna masaaledar hai.” The food is spicy.
     Kausani was everything you’d want from your first week in a country you're going to spend the next nine months in: nice people, beautiful scenery, delicious food, and lots of time to process. In some ways, it was almost like home. Almost, because whenever I started to get too comfortable, I was instantly reminded of my foreignness by something like walking back to the lodge and realizing that every time I meant to ask someone how they’re doing, I’d been saying “Ap kaha se hai?” instead of “Ap kaise hai?” I thought the confused looks I’d been getting were because people didn’t understand my accent. Now, I think it’s probably more of a combination of my accent and the fact that I'd been smiling and asking “Where are you from?” and responding “I'm good too!”
     Still, all in all, our first week in India was grand. However, by the end of our stay in Kausani, I think we all realized that we'd really just left one bubble of comfort for another and were greatly looking forward to moving on.

The Low-Down

     It took me a really long time to think of a name for this blog. For the past two months, my mental backburner has been perpetually creating and discarding titles with no clear progress. However, it has recently occurred to me that there is fine a line between putting off starting a blog because you want a good name and putting of starting a blog, period. So, to preempt my hesitation, I have decided on the straightforward “Gap Year on the Ganga.” If you hadn’t already guessed, this blog is about the year I’m spending in India post-high school and pre-college. If you wondering why the name is “Ganga” and not the more common “Ganges,” it is because “Ganga” is, in fact, the proper pronunciation of the river that flows through eastern India. "Ganges" is a Western distortion of the respectful name of the holy river, "Ganga-ji." As I’ve learned from recent experience, names can be a big deal and as I am living in throwing distance of the water, I think It’s probably best to start off with a clean slate.
     For those who don’t know, I am participating in Princeton University’s Bridge Year Program. In a nutshell, the program sends 5 would-be freshmen to Ghana, Peru, Serbia, and, of course, India. The purpose of the program is cultural immersion and service. For me, this means I’ll be spending 7 months in Varanasi (Banaras) working for a local NGO, living in a homestay, and learning Hindi. On either side of those 7 months, the program heads to the mountains for a month to escape the heat, complete a more succinct service project, and have either orientation or debriefing. Accompanying me on this odyssey are my group mates-Katie, Daniela, Alan, and Josh-as well as our fearless leader, Daniel, and a whole host of other supporters.
     I have dawdled so persistently in creating this blog that it’s hard to believe over a month has already gone by since my group’s orientation in Princeton and our departure. However, we are now beginning our fourth week in Banaras and the shape of the months to come is becoming clearer. To give you an idea of how the past month has been going, I will post a couple entries describing our time in the mountains. After that, I will try to post as often as possible about my comings and goings, and more often than not, probably my many inevitable mistakes and mishaps.
     As for the specifics, I have begun working for Kiran Center, a non-profit organization that serves to help both rural and urban children with physical and mental disabilities. At this moment, I am not entirely sure what my responsibilities will be, although I expect to be teaching English to the staff and helping out in the vocational department. In addition, we began intensive Hindi training in the mountains with our awesome teacher Binitji and are continuing it in Banaras with the renowned and lovely Verendraji, who also happens to be my homestay father. I will be living with him and his equally sweet wife, Sushelia, for the duration of my stay in the city.

That’s pretty much all for now, my dear readers, but stayed tuned for the adventures and escapades of Damaris in what is called the subcontinent of divine chaos.