The Beautiful Hasta La Vista

See Jimena, I'm learning Spanish already.

"Hasta La Vista" is (in my heart) "Goodbye until we see each other again." I met great friends in Jaipur that I will miss very much. I was sent off with notes, cards, earrings, Gods (a Ganesha to watch over me - thanks brotha Vikrant) and blessings from the God of Karma to take care of my family and myself on the rest of my journey. I cried (a little), fought to hold back tears (a lot), had many hugs, and Vikrant even sang "Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, Goodbye" which reminds me of what a McLellan would do.

In total there was close to 45 interns and volunteers at Idex when I left. The women in that camp are true examples of Women's Empowerment. The stories were incredible - many quit their jobs, left boyfriends and husbands at home, and came all the way to India to try to make a small difference.

Thanks Nicola for capturing the pyaar.

My beautiful Neha. I will return one day for her wedding.

Some of the best at the
proved-it's-name-on-our-last-visit-'Shitty'-bar.
Miss you girls!

So Wednesday morning I was off to Goa, casting off my safety net of the women / roommates / family at Idex for my own adventure.

Goa is ... hmm. A very different side of India to see. It's lush and tropical, there are many Christians and dogs are pets here (my personal favourite part). There's stretches of beautiful water and sand, small huts and palm trees aplenty. Upon arriving, I found that my guesthouse is more like (for only 900 Rs a night) paradise. I live 60 steps in one direction from the Arabian Sea and 60 steps in the opposite direction from small, beautiful street markets. I spend my days enjoying fresh juices, getting massages on the beach and having lunch with locals.

Sounds pretty good, doesn't it?

Straight off the plane to palm trees!
(still the usual though: cows, garbage, peddlers
and  men peeing on the side of the road)

My daily beach spot and breakfast, lunch & dinner shack.
They know me well and it's only been three days.

After a sunset swim.
The Arabian Sea is salty & warm at night
as if 1000 people have peed in it.
It stings the eyes, the waves are huge and apparently more
tourists die from being swept out to sea than from crime here.
But I am loving daily dips in it!

What my day looks like. Fresh watermelon juice & a
must-read book.
Yum.

My lunch date and the first Indian with
a HUGE smile for a picture, Zaoor.
It seemed fateful that I met him, as
he shared great wisdom about moving forward in life,
how we should live life with a smile,
and about the damn Russians in Goa.
Everyone here thinks I'm Russian.
They are happy to hear I am Canadian & therefore
friendly and willing to pay for my food/drink.

It looks beautiful, but not to worry; Katputli and the cause are stronger than ever in my heart. As it turns out (Nicola), time for reflection really means having everything that we want out of life pound through our head like waves. We spend time jumbling it up and then when we pause it hits us. I'm taking time this week to try to control the multitude of waves flowing through my mind. But I can't help it, I find myself asking every Indian I meet - no matter their age, "Are you studying? What do you want to be when you grow up? Who provides for your family? What makes you happy? Can you go to school?"

As I was enjoying my massage, I asked the woman doing it all about her life and discovered that Kerala never went to school, moved to Goa 15 years ago and has successfully run a fresh juices shop and massage business since then. She makes a decent living, has learned decent English and gets to 'live the life' on the Goan beaches (if serving a bunch of snotty white tourists is your idea of 'the life.') When a small jewellery merchant came along and introduces herself as Sunita, I ask her similar questions. She's 16 and her two brothers get to go to school. She purchases items from the local markets and spends long, hot days in the sun (in a sari no less) selling them to tourists. She makes a decent profit and is able to help her family.

Not a surprise to me, but I discover again that it doesn't matter where you are from - life in India is tough for women. Some tie on a smile, learn some English and work hard, and maybe then they make it. Maybe. If making it means being able to send their children to school and have enough leftover to eat. My heart feels at peace with them, like I am one of them, yet I never will be because I was born in Canada. Why was I so lucky? Ahh, but that's for another rant.

Then last night I learned something new. I got to learn about another struggle Indian women face, when they become widowed.
I ran into some American girls yesterday on the beach who are here vacationing from Delhi, their home away from home for four months. They are working in an ashram for Indian widows and one sweet girl from Utah told me:

Hindu widows are shunned from society when their husbands die, not for religious reasons, but because of tradition -- and because they're seen as a financial drain on their families. They cannot remarry. They must not wear jewelry. They are forced to shave their heads and typically wear white "as if all colour is gone from their life". Even their shadows are considered bad luck.They flock to holy cities to find salvation for their next life and often resort to begging for their food.

As if Indian women don't have it hard enough already. And as I write this, I just read a blog from the lovely girl who took over for me at Katputli (read it here) and found that one of my women there was beaten last night because her husband is having an affair and she didn't want to attend a function at the other woman's house. On our last day we also found out that one little girl, Sapna, has been married since she was a year old and another of our girls, Mamta, is married and doesn't like her husband. When she's 18, she'll be forced to go live with him in his village and will stop education.

As I try to relax on the beach and read my books, this is all that continues to flow through my mind. There are many people here that ask why I'm alone. They either think it's amazing or become very worried about me. I think right now it's vital as I struggle to come to grips with a lot of elements in my mind. I am reading "May you be the mother of 100 sons" and become so overwhelmed that I begin to talking to myself at times, rapidly look through my purse, find my pen & paper and start writing. No wonder people are worried about me...!

But how can we change ancient mindsets? 

There are definitely things about India that I love, that must stay the same. It's the most authentic culture I've ever seen. Religion is usually the most prominent part of a person's life and the overarching message is love and kindness. So how are they so backwards on this one element of life?

You can tell I've been thinking a lot. Time for a sunset dinner.

Pyaar.