Of Lassis and Saris : Stories of India

The chaos of a narrow Old Delhi street. An Indian child’s curious glance. Monks meditating in a temple, their faces serene. The white dome of the Taj Mahal, hidden beneath a layer of lavender fog. These are just a few of the images preserved through photography and poetry, spoken and shared during a presentation on this spring break’s India work-study trip this past Friday.Around 50 people came to the event, which was held in the library. Students and faculty ate mango lassi, samosas, and naan and listened to students and faculty speak about their experiences traveling in India.Upper Tina Safford spoke about her experiences in Delhi. The city, she said, was overcrowded with pedestrians and motorists, surrounded by displays of anything from "flowers and beads" to "food and fireworks." Housing and intricate wires shaded the storefronts as the group walked through the streets.India, Safford had learned, was full of contradictions—from the business and modernization of its cities to the quiet of Gandhi’s martyrdom site, where the group walked along his last footsteps and gazed at the simple room where he had written in peace."The site was abundant in knowledge of Gandhi's past and the peace he hoped to instill in the world. As Gandhi once said, ‘In the attitude of silence the soul finds the path in a clearer light, and what is elusive and deceptive resolves itself into crystal clearness. Our life is a long and arduous quest after Truth,’" Safford read.Upper Maddie Firkey spoke about her proximity to poverty while in Delhi. Although she said she had children approaching her and begging for food or money while in India, she was struck by a child who kneeled in front of her holding a wooden toolkit with polish and cloth."I couldn’t help but feel that this little boy was lowering himself in front of me, almost as if he were part of the ground I walked on," Firkey read. "He always kept his eyes down, never looking me in the eyes. I was heartbroken. I didn’t want to leave him, though I also didn’t want my canvas shoes polished, so instead I sat down with him. We probably looked like quite a spectacle in the middle of a parking lot. He surely looked confused at my actions."The boy’s name was Hashim, she would later learn, and he was ten and no longer in school. Firkey wanted to do something for Hashim, but knew that giving gifts to street children was ill-advised. She took a necklace out of the bundle she had bought earlier and gave one to Hashim.The encounter, she said, inspired her."We need to make this change for the children like Hashim in the world. Now Hashim didn’t talk much, but his voice surely was heard by me and hopefully now by all of you," Firkey read.Others shared their emotions through original poetry. English instructor Becky Moore shared a poem she had written about her experience riding along the Ganges at Varanasi, which she described as "a place of pilgrimage as well as cremation." Unlike the ride the group had experienced the night before with the "busy crowds, the diesel engine, and the air filled by the well-lit spectacle of drummers and dancers on shore", Moore said the morning’s river ride was quiet and contemplative in nature. The meditative experience, she said, brought to her mind thoughts of family, mentors, and even the Delhi man who had committed suicide after being charged with rape in a widely-publicized case."On the shore people prepare to wash their selves and spirits," Moore read. "The city launderers beat stones with others' saris, shirts and sheets.""As the rowers pull us away, the candle sellers, a wiry girl and her younger brother, jump on to the bow. They pass us palm-sized leaf bowls of pink roses and saffron marigolds, holding a daub of wax and wick," the poem continued. "Back on the boat we must light the wicks and let their blessings go onto and into the water, living with our dead, as their flowers float us all, into the day."Science instructor Frances Johnson’s poem was about her experiences with the group’s walking meditations and echoed Moore’s experience of finding inner peace. "Walking meditation, sole to earth, soul to Earth, grounded with each step," Johnson read. "Thoughts, in coral, yellow, deep pink, mere reflections, flickering away--leaving a path to the gentle light."