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Deaf School in Chennai

I visited two Deaf schools while in Chennai. At each school the signs were very different. I was able to communicate using the two handed fingerspelling system for english words and then learn how to sign the word. One student had spent some time in Kuwait and had learned the one handed fingerspelling system that ASL uses so he helped translate. Because of that, I was really only able to communicate with students who had some english. Once we established a sense of communication, we relied less and less on english. St Louis School has all standards including a college with a degree in business. They didn't have any statistics on how many students are employed after graduating. And I later learned that many students drop out because job opportunites are limited and the Deaf are paid less than their hearing counterparts.

At C.S.I School , I met with a group of younger students and I videotaped them telling stories. I thought I would be able to communicate easier with them after spending a day at St Louis but I found many signs extremly different. It took awhile but we got it. That's what is so great about any Deaf community, the desire to communicate is so strong that everyone pitches in and helps all members understand one another, not matter how long it takes.
The language was so different because It all depends on from where the students come, some from rural areas where a more gestural language is used or different cities that have different systems. When they all arrive in the dorms, they create a unique language with all their influences. The kids were boisterous, eager to communicate and had great patience for my moments of confusion. The rural kids are pulled into a more formal usage of sign language. They had learned the one handed finger spelling system but with so many positional and handshape errors that I couldn't help but show them how we do it in ASL. I'm sure a non-fluent hearing person taught them.

Both schools were Catholic. The taught oral method in the classroom. The students are referred to as Deaf and other people are called normal. The ability to intermingle with the normal people is a high priorty and so oralism is adopted as the teaching method. In the classrooms, teachers spoke at very high levels with some signs thrown in here and there. I met one Deaf teacher. When I asked her about deaf clubs for adults she responded that she doesn't go because there is too much trouble, gossip and drama. "I go to work and home." Seems like this is a world-wide occurence in small communities. Some students were english medium students and some Tamil students. There is no fingerspelling system for Tamil which has many many more letters than english.

The students told the Tortoise and the Hare story and one boy whose father is deaf told a wonderful rendition of Spiderman.

The principal was genial and seemed to respect the capabilities of the students. She sort of signed. The kids told me she was very strict and wouldn't ever let them play.

I left exhausted and overwhelmed. A few days is not enough. I wanted to return to a festival day on Sunday but I was on my way south. I thought I'd pop up but after the 3 hour bus ride to Pondi I decided "pop" up doesn't exist when you are driving on Indian Roads.

On the way to Pondi, I passed open fields with triangle heaps of white salt. I was reminded of Gandhi and the Salt March. I was there a few weeks later when the march was remembered by Sonia Gandhi and the country.

Meditation in the Dark

While in Pondicherry I visited an ashram for meditation that needs a story written and never got the chance while in India. I'm home now but the memories are still fresh.

The Sri Aurobindo Ashram was the home of not only Sri Aurobindo but The Mother as well. The Mother created Auroville and it's her dream that keeps the place growing. She was french but came to India and became a spiritual guru to many.

We walked into the compound- a walled -in but open sky gymnasium. People lined the walls, some sitting some standing. In the middle , on the sandy covered ground were 10 or so devotees dressed in blue shorts and white crisp shirts. The women had white turban like hats on their heads. A bit Nora Desmond ala India. The devottees were all well over 60 and marched back and forth the length of the compound to barking orders in French. First they just went back and forth on their strong but spindly legs. I worried that one gentleman's legs would completely bow and he'd fall over. And then they began synchronized calistenics for a few counts follwed by marching and then a halt to continue the synchronized calistenics. All this orchestrated by the microphoned Un, Duex, Trois, Quatre.

What the hell was going on? This isn't what I imagined meditation to be. The marching stopped and all the people around moved into toward the center halting on an invisible line. The lights were shut off and the only thing that glowed was the clock on the wall above my eyes. The lights came on again and everyone moved again closer to the metallic map of India on the wall with an empty chair in front. This map included Pakistan. Everyone pulled out a small mat to sit on and Javed and I followed the rest and sat down on the sandy ground. After a few moments the lights went off again. And just when I settled into meditation, the music began. Organ music that harkened Dracula movies, Andrew Lloyd Weber and for a few moments I was transported to temple. After 30 minutes the lights popped on and everyone got up and shuffled out of the compound.

Javed's take on the whole thing? "it's all crap. Who can meditate with all that distraction?"

With that said, we learned that this is where The Mother would sit and therefore a powerful place for all who attend. We were lucky to participate in the meditation. The exercise was the influence of The Mother bringing western style calistenics to keep the body healthy at the ashram. She also introduced the shorts. It is quite a shock to see women in shorts in India.

The toddering man with bowed legs, did not fall.

Houseboats, Pineapple and a shower under the stars.

I did this last year and this year was equally sublime. On a posh houseboat a driver takes you through the serene channels of the Allepy backwaters. Coconut trees line the canals, people bathe and do their laundry under the relaxing breeze that brings rest and ease to the rising heat. The crew on the boat is there to serve. The meals are traditional Kerala meals of spicey white fish, bhindi (okra) slightly spiced, curd with fresh onions, fresh chappati and a tasty vegie coconut sidedish. This year my stomach was well and I could enjoy every bite.

In addtion to the the sound of the crows and the meditative putter of the boat is the chanting coming from the temple on the edge of the water. The next morning on our return, the chanting continued. I believe it went all night. The boat was anchored in a cove for the night. Black birds flew across the darkening skies fluttering to and fro the tops of the coconut trees. The stars began to appear in the sky. The sun glowed yellow as it sunk beneath the trees.

More food! Afer lunch , tea and fried bananas I wasn't really hungry but you can't pass up a deliciously spiced meal on an outdoor deck of a houseboat as the moon rises above. While lying on the bow of the boat, a star shot across the black sky.

The next morning, was another luscious meal of idly and sambar. We came back to shore around 10 am and we weren't ready to leave the life of luxury. After some fierce bargaining, we got a private bungalow with an outdoor shower set a few feet from the water. PalmGrove. I highly recommend it. I spent the day in a hammock under the coconut trees sipping fresh lime soda and dozing. After that nap, I joined Javed in a small boat docked on the edge of the water. What could be more peaceful than being rocked to sleep by the gentle laps of the water?

We then drove to Allepy to visit his friends super star resort on the beach. For those of you looking for a personalized vacation in a traditional bungalow this is it. It was restored with gorgeous arched wood doors and furnished with Kerala carved furniture. Sublime! We had tea looking over the ocean on one side and the other, a cricket field. And the only lighthouse I've ever seen that is set inland from the sea. What good could that do in time of need? JUst one of those India things. The second class train rolled by and I remarked that guests at Raheem's bungalow could even experience train travel. I remembered my own trip last year on that second class train. Definitely an experience to have. And not one these guests would have.

I then went to a silk saree house to puruse the yards and yards of luscious silks in colors that make you drool and embrodery to shake the soul. I returned the next morning to find a group of women looking through wedding sarees. Well, this is what I had wanted to see!! Everything is kept behind the counter and you have to artfully describe what you want in order for the guy to bring you items to see. Not the best system for someone like myself who is a slow browser and never knows what she wants til she sees it. A girl can get lost in the lengths of silks spread on the counter before her.

We returned to our bungalow for a yummy Kerala meal with the grand finale of ripe melt-in-your-mouth pineapple, a shower under the stars and a night of soft sleep under a pink net.

There are only a few days left.

Horses, temples and no spicy food.

Kodaikanal is a mountainous area cool and foggy most of the time. I got sick. I have no idea where and it was right after I talked to my mom on the phone and told her I wasn't sicka dn was being so careful. I, unlike my talented brother am not a good puker. So it took a few hours. After a day , I was fine and we went horseback riding into the deep forest. It felt more like a russian forest ala Chekov than what I imagine India to be. But the mist amoung the trees was mystical. Javed on a horse was entertaining. And the dog with the sweet smile who followed us made me happy. We met her while having a tea break and resting our horses. We had just travelled through a grass covered valley, terraced gardens, white washed stone houses and a small river meandering the base of the hill. Cows rested in the pools of water. The dog with the smiling face came up to us wagging her boney white tail. Everyone else ran but I gave her a few pats. We had our tea and set off into the mountains. Passing some workers planting new trees, I noticed that she was still following us. Farther up the hill, she was still there. Each time I called to her, she smiled brightly keeping a safe distance from the horses. Javed and his friend Aslam who have never ridden before were off pioneering the trail while one of the three guides wouldn't let go of my horse's reins. Trying to tell him, I had it under control, he smiled and seemed to understand. I think they were hyper worried about foriegners. As a result, my trip wasn't as much fun as everyone else's. The smiling dog kept me out of a complete funk.

On our way back we passed by a golf course shrouded in mist and then a pack of dogs. They chased the smiling dog with a menacing growl. We stopped for tea and it started to pour. We huddled under the tea stand eating roasted corn and tea (Not me, my stomach was still very senstive) I tried to find the dog. She was gone. The horses stood in the pouring rain. As soon as it let up, we got back on. And there at the first tea stop was the dog with the effervescent smile. When I called to her, she smiled so big, her eyes lit up. This was her stop and we continued on down the road.



We went to a beautiful temple on a hill in Palani. We climbed hundreds of stairs stopping every few minutes as lean, fit people zoomed up to the top. The view was stunning of the coconut tree valley with a large, looming hill literally popping out of the valley. There were very few foreigners in teh temple so I was able to proceed through the inside. I went into another sanctum (not the right word) of a guru (it's all in Tamil and I have no idea who, what where...) but the priest waved me in and I recieved puja of white powder on my forehead. Paintings lined the cave-like room of this man's meditative journey. I tried to decipher the story but couldn't. We watched a young boy get his ears pierced. And then his younger sister. They waved to me gesturing that I should have my ears pierced. And I gestured back, I've got them already I won't be needing your hand sharpened needles boring into my ears.

We then took a rope trolley down the extremely steep hill. A family of a four waited with us. The mischevious boy got a severe yanking and face slapping from his father. Javed and I had just had a discusssion about beating children. This was more like a heated disagreement. So he waited with anticipation for my reaction.

As soon as the trolley arrived suddenly there were hoards of people packed in the small cars. Every window had metal bars. Facing backward teh trolley descended down a mountain pass yellow and pink blossoms which brought me consolation and ease from my mounting fears.

We left in the heat and drove towards Anamali and the wildlife preserve. We travelled through rice fields, coconut trees and green grassy lands. The preserve was closed. So we continuedto drive. We were both hot, headachey and tired when we arrived in Thrissur, home of a beatiful crisp white gothic church. After a meal and searching for a hotel I splurged on an a/c room and spent a glorious night in a fancy hotel.



Today we are off to Allepy for a Backwaters houseboat tour. I did it last year and it's wonderful. I"m killing time in the net while Javed runs some errands.

Descending on foot into Tamil Nadu

Munnar is where my food adventures began! We found this wonderful small restaurant on the hill that makes the food of the gods. Sambar Vadai to die for. Ghee roast dosai that melts in the mouth and spicey masala tea that will cure all physical and emotional ills.



We finally made it back to topstation as we weren't able to make it due to my cold. Wilson was there waiting and willing to take us on the trek. I was worried we had lost our chance. We rented a bike because it is not only quicker to get through the winding, pot holed roads but it's just so much more sensational in the open air.

Well this was a trek to end all treks. If I had known in the morning what this trek would look like, I wouldn't have awakened the king of sleep.



We started at the top of the mountain and literally descended straight down on a cow trail. Halfway down, Javed's shoe sole torn away from the shoe. We hoped that when we reached the village they would have a needle. Our destination was a village at the base of these soaring mountains. A village of governement built homes for the villagers (name is in my book at the hotel...I'll add it later). The scenery was amazing. The green mountains peaked like spires into the blue sky. On one side of the mountain tufts of grass blew gracefully in the wind. We took a detour to see the waterfall. Down down we went. We stopped at a small pool of water in the trail. Our guide quietly announced that this was the waterfall. I looked at Javed. "This is THE waterfall? Behind the thicket of leaves, I peered. It was about a three foot drop. Hmm. and we had to go back UP and in order to start our descent into the village, I learned later. We saw the coffee grinding machine and a pony. The villagers work in the coffee plantations, clean the cofee and then trek it, more ably than Javed and I, to where it gets processed. With Javed limping on one shoe and me fading in the Indian sun, using my dwindling supply of kleenex for my nose, we descended straight down into the village. When I say straight, I mean straight. I felt like the village was moving farther away with each step.

I could see the kids awaiting our arrival. As soon as we arrived, I headed for the large tree for shade. Forget tribal village children, interesting history, being in a strange land, give me shade! I felt like one of those British ladies wilting in the sun. Javed set to mending his shoe with a bobby pin, a piece of plastic thread and later a curved knife. I entertained myself and the kids with my video camera. The village houses 15 families. I passed out pens and wished so much that I could speak a little Tamil. They speak their own language as well as some Tamil. Some of the kids loved the camera and others, like the older girl stared at me suspiciously from behind a pole. A woman with a stern face said something to me. I was afraid she wanted me to leave. She wanted a family photo. It's so strange how once the camera is aimed the smiles disappear. A proud serious countenance is assumed. The bright, illuminating smiles disappear for a stern 1800's straight backed pose.



And then , the ascent. I just about died. It was hot and I felt like my dog Tigger on a hike seeking out every drop of shade . We rested every few feet. Our guide easily moved up the hill. At one moment, my legs wouldn't move no matter what my brain did. It's at that moments that you have to just pull in your last burst of whatever is left and goat it up the hill.And Javed lost the other shoe sole. At a peak, the sun mercifully went behind the clouds and a breeze picked up. Javed started trailing behind. Each person we passed on teh trail laughed at our sorry state. I was now beet red. But I got a second wind and pulled shuffling Javed up the last 10 minutes of the trail. Arriving at the top, we were great entertainment for the tea stand. The matron of tea brought us chai, the elixir of everything. Rain was threatening . The girl I had seen the day before came round again. I gave her a better pen than the day before. This young girl of about 10 has a smile that literally parts the clouds. When she smiles, you feel your heart bathed in gold.

We made it back without hitting rain. Our hotel was in a blackout and I had to wait for the precious bucket of hot water. It wasn't until the next day that my muscles ached like never before.

It was well worth it but thank god I had no idea what we were getting into. The view was breathtaking. And it was a well earned moment sitting at the top taking in the green mountains darkening with the descending sun.

Madurai

Let's hope the electricty doesn't go or the connection fail!!



I am now in Madurai- The Temple City. We just toured the Meenakshi Temple. 12 km of towers and a temple honoring Shiva and Pavrati including two pure gold domes. The towers rise 100's of feet into the sky packed with sculptures painted in bright colors. Our tour guide, a towering young local guy spoke in Hindi as Javed translated. Let's just say I was getting the jist of things.

Devotees filled the temple with offerings and prayers. The temple columns are carved from a single stone. Some carvings are of gods, some of fantastical animals..part lion, part human, part crocodile. I am still drawn to the playful Ganeesh. Two huge sculptures of dancing Shiva and Pavrati (I think I'm screwing up the spelling...sorry) had round blobs of butter stuck to the surface. It is said that during a dance competition between the two Shiva pulled a last minute stunt and lifted his leg up to his head. Pavrati could not do this as she was in a sari. He therefore won the competition. Pavrati was very mad, fuming actually that she didn't get her way. Sound familiar? Anyways, the butter is meant to soften her temper. Not sure why Shiva is covered as well.

The ceilings of the temple are covered with intricate paintings. The adjoining museum was a dance hall. It is also called the hall of 1000 pillars. The construction is amazing each pillar is a dancer, musician or fanatastical animal. At the upstage center (as we call it) of the hall is a huge dancing shiva. Five metal statues from the temple are preserved in glass. As was at the palace in Cochin, the museum is dimly lit and the glass is dusty so viewing the statues is an art in catching the natural light. Our guide wanted to point out the karma sutra bas reliefs in the pillars. Looks like sexuality was a bit more integrated and visible or at least celebrated than it is today..in most cultures. Later, when I was looking in my bag for a pen, my dupatta fell and like six men moved forward to catch a view. It must be all the bodacious statues in the temple. It's not NYC in the summer.

As a non-hindu I am not allowed in any other temple so our guide took us across the street...across the hot pavement as our shoes were on the other side of the temple...to a shop that has a view on the roof. He walked easily on the burning ground as my little white feet seared to god knows, I haven't looked yet. It was beautiful . And then we were of course led through the fancy Kashmiri shop..all the same stuff that Javed has in his store only they think he is a foreigner since he's with me. The hard sell begins and we made a bolt for the door.

I went into a store to find a gift and as usual got sucked in for hours as the eager sales ladies pull everything off the shelves unfolding, unpackaging everything until you find something you like. You end up buying something. How can you not with piles of unpackaged salwars in front of you. They are determined to find something you will like.

We just had a luscious meal on bannana leaves. Rice, dahl, curd and vegetables, lime pickles YUM! and really I have no idea what the rest was but it was gooood.

We are only here for the day and off to Kodaikal this evening.

To get here we climbed and winded our way down from Kerala through the tea plantations, jungle, brush overlooking the wide open valley. It was steeper than hwy 1 out of Big Sur and as dramatic as descending into the Dead Sea. I sat clutching the edge of my seat as Javed winded the car down the road narrowly missing buses and jeeps zooming up the hill. At the base of the hill, the trees becaem short and flat topped like large bonsai trees or a wispier version of a cypress. We spied a swimming pool. It turned out to be a private garden to be opened next month by a temple artist. We decided to take a swim. I can't swim in a bathing suit but must instead wear my clothes. This is what I don't quite get because once my pants and shirt were wet, you could see it all. And then we were on our way to Madurai through villages processing wheat and other villages baking bricks.

The Honeymoon Destination

Much has happened and I've only just found a moment to post something. The last post was eaten by a network failure.



I am now in Munnar, the tea plantations. It is a wonderful respite from the heat of Kochi where we stayed for a few days getting the car ready, running errands and then hitting the road. We stayed on Cherai Beach. The water was as warm as the air. Here we are in a comfortable hotel with a few of the mountains. And the guy who works here is soooo nice.

Munnar is absolutely beautiful. It's the honeymoon capitol and many newlyweds walking hand in hand or cuddling by the waterfalls. I was here last year and it's only become more beautiful. The bumpy roads are quite a challenge to drive on. I got in the car to drive and lasted 2 minutes. These jeeps transport people on the mountain roads. They are packed to the brim with the driver hanging out the window and an old man pasted onto the back door like a sqashed bug. I can see them picking up just one more person, "where's the glue?" and slapping him to the outside of the door. Later in the night, we were driving back to the hotel when the jeep in front started sparking and came to a halt. Luckily , we were at a safe distance. I thought it was a flat but a few feet away lay the tire. It had come completely off and thank god the jeep had come to a safe stop.

This evening we had dinner in a small local restaurant. Yummy pooris and some spicey chickpea masala and mutter paneer, the cheese so fresh! And the masala tea is spicey and hits the spot. I'm fighting a pretty bad head cold today. So we will go on our trekking adventure tomorrow because I WILL be well.

I left Auroville before sunrise to catch Javed's bus from Cochin. I had FINALLY convinced him to come meet me. It took 20 minutes to get to town and now I had a 2 hour wait for the bus. I watched the street come slowly alive. At first it was just me and my sleepy, sneezing taxi cab driver, a blinking neon sign and a few rickshaws. As the sun rose, the sky turned pink and the sounds of the street started to grow. Before long , the long protracted horn of the city buses shattered the pink-ed sky. More and more rickshaws arrived. A man thudded the side of the cab ordering the driver to back up away from the incoming bus. Was it the one from Cochin? I got out to check. No. Back inside the stuffy, humid taxi I waited. When the bus finally arrived, I stood on the sidewalk with a few other men. Would he be on the bus? Would I recognize him?

He was cold from the airconditioned ride but the taxi quickly warmed him up. He looked the same except for a new pair of glasses, which he promptly lost a few days later. Actually, I was half way responsible for that. We waited at the Ashram guest house because it is the best deal in town-ocean views for less than $10. We had fresh curd with papaya and tea while we waited for a room. It was easy and all my anxiety melted away as I opened up the door to the terrace and took in the ocean breeze and listened to the rythmic slap of the waves.

It was here that we went to visit the Ashram (see Meditation in the Dark) and the ashram paper factory. A fascinating factory of making beautiful papers from recycled materials.


The train ride from Pondi to Cochin was quite an adventure. In short, it's three berths and we were in the middle. At aroudn 10 pm there was a communal move towards setting up our beds. It wasn't so bad and the rush of the train was hypnotizing. But the flashing flourescent light was too much. Normally, I just put up and adjust but not this time. I convinced Javed to get the neatly dressed train ticket collector to come over. With his smoothed back hair and blazer I wasn't sure if he was the fix-it kinda guy. But Javed's attempts (and mine) left the light off until the train hit another bump. I think the lady below could have slept through it. Anyways, with that solved, I fell asleep. At 2 am I woke and felt the pain in my legs and hips. I needed to stretch and there was only so much room. I woke up a few more times and by 6 AM the train was chattering away. And every few minutes a man walked through "coffeecoffeecoffee" chaiiiichaiiichaiii." Not relaxing. Javed slept like a baby.

So the best meals so far are the local places. I have not been sick and am being annoyingly careful. The fancy restaurants are certainly not the choice for good tasting food. The thali plate in Kochi was delicious. Mixed rice with veggies, cauliflower and green beans, spicey dahl, a biting lemon pickle and halvah with cardamon.

I had ordered a lassi with no ice and one with ice. This became a full adventure. The drink guy took me to the order guy who with the help of another gentleman we worked out that I would have one lassi with ice and one lime soda (skip the ice issue.) This took a few go arounds. And then the order guy told the drink guy... in english "one lassi ice, one lime soda no ice." I thought I had said the same thing. I think it's funny when someone translates my english to english. Mind you, I'm not using any fancy sentences. I resort to a sort of simplified, get to the point. ASL-ish grammar. Anyways it's these sorts of miscommunications that make it an adventure. I listen to Javed and am picking up some good tips.

So, I bid farewell from the hilly mountains of Kerala. Tea plants blanketing the hills in deep green dotted with the fragile pink and yellow of the flowers.

Due to the connection and time, I'm not editing my blogs super closely so please forgive any mistakes. I simply want to get them posted before the connection fails.

I do love hearing from you.


View from the hotel in Pondicherry. The best deal in India! Ocean views for under $10. And the best yogurt and papaya breakfast for only $.50.

je suis arrive en Auroville

This must be short and I'll fill in more later. I am on Auroville, a planned community--a city of human unity started by The Mother (www.auroville.com). It's not an ashram but under the philosophical beliefs of the sri aurobindo ashram. It's very euro with cafes, solar run kitchens, schools. It's not completely communual but everyone's needs are taken care of as members work for Auroville in a billion of capacities. Some fo the handmade goods are really beautiful. I'm with my friend Patrick and Heidi who were some of the original settlers. The land is now a jungle of trees. I was two feet from a peacock and a mongoose ran past the front door of P and H's beatiful home that they built from ground up. I still don't quite have a handle on the city in terms of village vs aurovillians (not orwellians)



I had a day in Pondi on my own at the ashram guesthouse. (the best deal in town) I rested in the breeze of the ocean and took a walk along the sea coast to the looming statue of Gandhi. This seems to be the spot for evening lovers to meet and cuddle. The view at the Seagull restaurant is fabulous but don't ever eat there. It's awful.

Today I went to the sea and took a swim. I hoped to get involved in Tsunami cleanup but it's pretty much done. Now, they must re-build. There are riots in South INdia ast he fisherman don't have water. These problems are not new just exacerbated by the tragedy and to some extent by all the attention and money. Tragedy and poverty is a daily event here but the west became soft hearted when a big wave gobbled up the land. Don't get me wrong, a tsunami is dramatic to say the least. And entire island was erased of its inhabitants. Boats are what the fishermen need not the box of thongs and fur coats from Europe (true story). And hard cash isn't sucha good idea. I could stay here for a long time and only sort of understand it all. Auroville requires a three month stay before one can consider living as a permanent resident. Times have changed the place and like all places , change brings good and bad. Like gentrification of urban neigborhoods.

Ok, that's the basics and more details to follow. I'm off on my mountain bike to find my way back to the jungle through unmarked dusty red roads. Thank god for my good sense of direction

And everyone speaks french. Patrick, Heidi their guests, friends. And so I have come up against my shitty french. But I've employed le technique de Niki. Smile, laugh and make it like I understand it all. ONe time I couldn't believe she could understand this auto driver till she told me "I can't. I just pretend I can." Well, I get most of what people are saying but the cross conversation loses me in total frustration that language education in America sucks. Two times in one year I've needed to use my french. Time to go back to school.

IN chennai I went to another deaf school so that story will follow.