Katie is in Bogota, Colombia

here begins.... bogota

2007-01-29T22:29:00.001-05:00

January 18th I left Kentucky for Bogota, Colombia.

Thursday night when Maria from ISSO picked me up from the airport I realized that I had forgotten to study any Spanish before I left the states. Whoops. Some vitals kicked in but mostly we just made noises and pretended like it was a conversation. Seeing as I didn't meet an English speaking person until Monday, the weekend was quite a challenge. It might also have helped me to figure out the exchange rate before I landed in Colombia. Or the time difference. (There is none for my KY and NY friends)

I'm here getting a TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) certification. After I complete the course I'm hoping to teach English in a University here in Bogota. I had planned to go further south but Bogota is pretty amazing.

I really didn't expect Bogota to be this beautiful or this developed. Perceptions of Colombia have been manipulated and transformed through the violent history and legendary narco-trafficking and guerilla warfare. Although it has only in the past 5 or 6 years become safe to to travel throughout Colombia, the major cities have become very safe and prosperous. Bogota is facing all of the problems that big cities are facing: traffic, pollution, high population, housing, seperation of wealth... but from what I've seen so far, Bogota seems to be doing it so much more gracefully... With the Andes in the backdrop of the city, Bogota is littered with parks, large and small. There are green medians, tree lined streets and many different native flowers. They've enacted a variety of traffic limitation policies and every Sunday they close down main streets from 8am to 2pm for a weekly bike ride. And of course the people are beautiful.

There are of course many problems with Bogota and Colombia and much more to say but I like the rose tinted view I just gave, so I'm going to get some sleep before class starts at 8:30 AM! I mean, really.

Sunshine all the TIme

2006-07-09T14:26:00.000-04:00

Yellowknife is far up north in the Northwest Territory. It's the capital of NT but it's still a small town. We're so far north that the sun is still shining past midnight, and comes up by 5am - it's really bizarre.

I'm working a bit while I'm here - writing a report on the Yellowknife Women's Society and the Center for Northern Families... but mostly just exploring another part of the world.

and the mosquitos are awful

sailing on canada day

2006-07-09T14:21:00.000-04:00

thegambol
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Every time someone mentions Canada Day they kind of chuckle... I asked s friend why it was funny... she couldn't really answer. I think the Canadians take pride in the fact that they created a holiday mostly just to have another long weekend in the summer - not of course, to negate the deservedness of Canada having their own day. I like Canada quite a bit. But it just seems like something they would do.

Anyway, so I went to Victoria Island and Cowichan Bay to David's (Marnie's partner) boat where we hung out in the sun, went sailing, and drank beer for two days. It was a lot of fun.

Ski Lift in the Summer

2006-06-28T19:10:00.000-04:00

ski lift
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

The Grassroots Academy and the World Urban Forum have come to a close. We stumbled a few times but, in the end, here I am, alive, tired, feeling accomplished, taking in Vancouver... Sunday I went strwberry picking in the morning and climbed Grouse Mountain in the afternoon. Dahlia, Nicole, Rut, Clotilde and I took the 3 hour hike in stride. Clotilde, from Bolivia, is 65 years old and took the hike like a champ. We continued up, soaked in the sun and played in the snow. 85 degrees and snow on the ground - amazing. The ski lifts were bare, so we hopped on and off and back on.

Vancouver is an amazing city, nestled in between mountains and ocean, fast growing, environmentally conscious and multicultural. Right now I am trying to find a way up to Yellowknife to meet up with some people I met at the World Urban Forum - and then to roadtrip through Canada back to Kentucky - we'll see if I can work that out.... Until then, I'm finishing my thesis (eeek) and taking in the sun.

Grassroots Women's International Academy (in anecdotes)

2006-06-15T05:37:00.000-04:00

I sang along to Bob Marley "One Love" with our 11 women delegation from Jamaica.

A woman from the homeless shelter in Toronto planned just to sleep on the steps outside when she realised she forgot her key and I was the only one available with access to new keys.

I picked a Cameroonian woman up from the airport. She left Cameroon Friday, now it's Thursday. 22 years old, timid, beautiful, and has never left Africa. She was given 100 dollars and assured that that was enough to fly her from Toronto to Vancouver. And that Toronto and Vancouver were only 45 minutes apart. She was shocked that I was driving a car and that we were out at 1am - as women don't drive in Cameroon and there is an 11pm curfew.

The Indonesions won't eat anything but rice. So for the first couple of days they ate almost nothing. Then we got rice. They ate only rice. Then we got beans. They each had a plate of rice and four or five beans on their plate. Oh, and they only speak Bahasi. But they seem content.

Quazi Baby (that's really her name) gave me a coin purse from Bangladesh today and Andrea gave me stress therapy perfume from Germany.

It's 3am and I started working (post-shower, dress, walk to site) at 7:30am.

welcome to canadia

2006-05-26T20:08:00.000-04:00

Here I go again....

I'm in Vancouver working for the Huairou Commission, organizing women's participation in the World Urban Forum (WUF). WUF is a bi-annual international conference put on by UN-Habitat. THe organization I work for is the partner for women's participation. Although our office is in New York, the global coordinator, Marnie, is working from Vancouver. I am staying in Marnie's house in the city. So, that's the drift. Lots of logisitcal work for a huge UN conference. Fun stuff.

Vancouver is freakin green, that's for sure. So much rain. So many plants. It's pretty amazing. Now I know why everyone I spoke to said it was beautiful. Marnie and I (as part of the networking component of the job) went for drinks with a group of women from the Aboriginal Mothers Center Society. Seriosuly, sterotypes aside, people goin crazy over hockey, drinkin beer out of big mugs and saying, "eh." I was enchanted when the man next to me stood up, spilled half his beer, and yelled, "punch him in the face!" ahh. hockey.

I'll pull out the camera this weekend

Social Capital

2006-04-09T22:40:00.000-04:00

IMG_0283
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Apart from all of the intellectual capital accomplished in this trip (which I will withhold for the time, seeing as I have a thesis to write) - the group was able to formulate some great personal relationships as well. While we worked very hard during the day, we were sure to understand the "salsa" and "tequila" culture as well. This is a picture of Erin Drinkwater, Molly Kane and Sarah Cooper. We didn't get to the salsa piece of the cultural experience this night, but we were sure to taste the variations in tequila.

Teotihuacan Pyramids

2006-04-09T22:36:00.000-04:00

IMG_0241
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

On the first full day of our trip, we visited the ancient city of the Teotihuacans. Considered a real cupernatural city, we climbed the pyramids of the moon and the sun. Just outside Mexico City, the ancient pyramids of Mexico, and Central and South America are far underappreciated. Phenomenal.

children learning environmental sustainability

2006-04-09T22:31:00.000-04:00

IMG_0339
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

This is another image from the Milpa Alta. They have a program in which young children come to the site to study agriculture and environmental sustainability. Kids are cute.

Milpa Alta

2006-04-09T22:29:00.000-04:00

IMG_0336
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

As part of a class at the New School, "NGO-Government Relations: The Case of Mexico City," 29 of us spent Spring break visiting the government, academics and a large variety of NGOs in Mexico City. This is an image of my professor, Suman, Belkis (a Cuban woman studying in Mexico) and Ralph - all members of our group. Our group visited six NGOs, from environmental and indigenous groups to a school for deaf children and a home for street kids. In the image we are on land owned by an indigenous group which is self-sustained and makes money from the government for fighting forest fires.

Prospect Park, Brooklyn

2006-01-13T12:55:00.000-05:00

Prospect Park
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

This lake, five minutes walk from my urban neighborhood, is a peaceful retreat from finals, the holidays and New Orleans. sigh of relief.

Community Action in New Orleans

2006-01-13T12:50:00.000-05:00

IMG_0149
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

On Tuesday the 10th of January I attended a community meeting designed to bring together the various community members and activists interested in designing a cohesive a progressive strategy to rebuild New Orleans. Throughout the time in New Orleans it became evident that the city is confronting nearly every social justice issue out there – from public housing, to racism, classism and sexism, to voting rights, prison reform and labor rights. This being the case, the activists and volunteers on the ground are extremely divided, minimizing the strength of each individual movement. This community meeting brought in over 75 people, displaced residents, current residents, volunteers, activists in the city and activists from around the country.

After meeting in small groups, each group had an opportunity to report back the issues discussed. Public housing surfaced as an urgent issue. As was reported earlier, only one housing facility remains open, and people are organizing in response to harassment. This was identified as what many community members feel is an intentional agenda of privatization and ethnic and class cleansing.

I reported on the experience in the Renaissance Village Trailer Park for displaced citizens. The majority of the community members at the meeting had not been informed of these conditions and were quite appalled. Tory Pegram, and organizer from the ACLU hopes to file suits for the violations of civil liberties, including the requirement that residents give their FEMA number (equivalent to a Social Security number) in order to gain access to their mail. Other citizens were interested in performing direct action to expose the conditions, however, there is concern by the Renaissance Village residents that this would result in their eviction, leaving them homeless.

There are also a group of women: volunteers, community members and activists from the People’s Hurricane Relief Fund, who are organizing a free women’s health clinic. In this clinic they hope to provide child care, health education services, free examinations and healthcare, counseling services, as well as access to birth control and other medications. The women are having difficulty finding doctors and counselors willing to work for free. The group was meeting the evening after my departure and I requested that they keep in contact and send a full meeting minutes, documenting their agenda and strategies. As women in the South are disproportionately without healthcare, and the city is facing serious women’s safety issues, this clinic would be a valuable asset to New Orleans.

Another issue fast approaching is voter’s rights. New Orleans is hoping to hold an election by the end of April. In cases such as Renaissance Village, where there is very limited access to mail, and the geographical range of displaced residents, the election will be extremely disproportionate, specifically excluding residents of the 9th ward, predominantly African American citizens. Further, if residents were not registered to vote in the past, they must go to the courthouse in person in order to register. Those citizens living in states across the country will therefore be unable to register.

Finally, there was a call for a comprehensive archive of stories by people affected by hurricanes Katrina and Rita. It was noted that the University of New Orleans has already created one, which can be accessed at www.hurricanarchive.org and that another is being created by the Listen to the People Project. Kalamu, a neo-griot, is constructing this project. “We are neo-griots. Griot refers to the traditional West African historians/story-tellers/musicians. Neo refers to digital technology. Our goal is to write, to record, to photograph and video the stories of survival, and to share these stories with the world via the Internet.” This project is still in construction but can be accessed at http://kalmu.com.

The time I spent in New Orleans was humbling, emotional, frightening and beautiful all at the same time. After so much devastation, residents and activists are responding by trying to rebuild New Orleans, starting from the bottom, with ideals of equality, fairness, and sustainability. Unfortunately, these movements face tough opposition from the Shaw Group, FEMA, and the political administration. The grassroots movements need support.

Renaissance Village

2006-01-08T17:23:00.000-05:00

IMG_0118
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Below is a story written by Rachel Sheier, with whom I've been working this week. This is a story of our trip to interview a group of evacuees who have organized in response to their living situation. I will write more from my perspective later, but curently low on time - work is awaiting.
________________________________________________
The thing that strikes you when you first arrive at Renaissance Village, a fenced trailer park on a gravel lot in a sparsely populated suburb a few miles outside of Baton Rouge, is that no one seems to live there. In fact, it is home to more than 1,000 residents, mostly from the New Orleans area, one of the largest such parks that the government has set up all over the state to house residents that lost their homes or were temporarily displaced after Hurricane Katrina.

But in stark contrast the close-knit, mostly black neighborhoods where many had family roots that went back generations, you don’t see people chatting with neighbors or going about normal daily tasks in Renassance Village. When we arrived at the park on a Saturday midday, hardly anyone could be seen even walking on the narrow gravel pathways that separate the makeshift homes. “Lots of people are just sitting in their trailers, watching TV, depressed,” said Francis Collins, who taught fifth grade in New Orleans before the storm forced her, along with her 15-year-old daughter, to flee her home in the Lower 9th Ward.

Aside from the cafeteria, where residents are served free meals, and one basketball court with some barbeque grills nearby, there is nothing for people to do in Renaissance Village, said Collins, a founding member of the Renaissance Village Advisory Council, an ad hoc group of residents who have organized to represent concerns about the management of the park, the Keta Group, which has been subcontracted by the Shaw Group, which was in turn contracted by the Federal Emergency Management Agency to run the park and others like it.

After the disaster, FEMA ordered more than 100,000 trailers to house evacuees who had been displaced by Katrina, which are scattered in parks around Louisiana and elsewhere. But many have since questioned whether these isolated trailer parks were the best option.

Residents are forced to wear an identification badge at all times and say they are bullied and treated rudely by security guards routinely for minor infractions of rules or for no reason at all. There is a 9 p.m. curfew for children, who have no place to play or any formal activities on the grounds anyway. Transportation is limited. There is a small library, with very limited Internet access. Visitors arriving at the park are often questioned by security guards and turned away if they are deemed undesirable. The delivery of mail has been sporadic at best, and residents say they were required to provide their FEMA identification number—which would allow management access to private details of their situations—in order to get a mailbox at all. There is no childcare. Residents are not allowed to have landline phones in their trailers, leaving those without cell phones dangerously out of touch in case of an emergency. Collins and others have heard that several elderly residents have died in recent weeks, but management will not reveal details on such incidents.

But the main complaint from Collins and the 10 other members of the advisory council—which formed in late October, a few weeks after most took up residency in the park—is that they are treated as prisoners rather than citizens. There is a prevailing feeling among residents that there is no regard for their rights. There is no clear communication of policies, which seem to change at the whim of the management. For example, residents were originally told by FEMA officials that propane—the main energy source at the park for heating and cooking—would be provided. But Keta recently sent out notices informing residents that they would now be responsible for obtaining and paying for their own propane.

Residents of the park, many of whom lost their homes and their jobs after Katrina, were told they would be provided with shelter at the park for 18 months. Since then, they have received no job placement assistance or counseling, for example, and even the Advisory Council members have no idea who to call to receive information about their situations from FEMA. “We are not being treated as adults, as humans,” said Collins.

She and three other members of the Advisory Council met with us in Collins’ trailer, a cozy space about half the size of my bedroom. Many at the park have relatives, children—as many as 10 or more people living in these trailers. Yolanda Gibson, another member of the advisory council and, ironically, an employee of FEMA, is housing about seven people in hers. Both she and Collins were evacuated during the storm to the infamous River Center in Baton Rouge, which they described as a nightmare. People slept on concrete for weeks until cots were donated by a charity. “I almost lost my mind there,” said Gibson.

A resident of the West Bank, she was more fortunate than some others—her house was severely damaged but she plans to rebuild and return eventually. Gibson has returned to the 9th Ward to look at the remains of her house—a rental. She is not sure where she will go after she can manage to leave Renaissance Village. At the moment, she is living on unemployment. The Advisory Council members we spoke to estimated that only about a fourth of the residents of Renaissance Village currently have jobs—most in New Orleans, about an hour’s drive. (A bus provides limited daily service between the park and the city.) They wonder what will become of other residents—many of whom are severely depressed after the disaster—after their 18 months of shelter has expired.

In the meantime, the Council has managed some small victories. They were responsible for the establishment of the small library with computers and Internet access. They have meetings every Thursday evening, which are attended by more and more residents. At best, their efforts are treated “as a joke” by park managers, they say; at worst, their efforts to organize have been met with intimidation and even threats of eviction.

“It’s a nightmare out here, it really is,” said one Advisory Council member, Wilbert L. Ross, a Baton Rouge resident who was about to start a new job as a dishwasher in New Orleans when Katrina upended his life. “We still feel like we’re drowning.”

Lower 9th Ward IV

2006-01-08T13:35:00.000-05:00

Lower 9th Ward
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

or this one

Lower 9th Ward III

2006-01-08T13:33:00.001-05:00

IMG_0110
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

or this one

Lower 9th Ward II

2006-01-08T13:18:00.000-05:00

Lower 9th Ward
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

there is no shortage of photos like this one

Lower 9th Ward

2006-01-08T13:03:00.000-05:00

Lower 9th Ward
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

I've spent the last 4 months working as an intern at the Huairou Commission (www.huairou.org), an international network of grassroots women's organizations. In those same four month, New Orleans and the Gulf Coast have been completely transformed by Hurricane Katrina, coupled with negligent responsiveness and poor management by FEMA. People have lost their homes, their jobs, their family members. Disaster is one of the campaigns of the Huairou Commission, that is the development strategies and post-disaster strategies for reconstruction. Although the Huairou Commission has predominantly engaged in post-disaster work in developing nations, the impact and response in the Gulf has revealed the US, particularly in regards to the South, incapable of adequate disaster management and prevention.
For this reason, a few other employees and myself have been sent to New Orleans to survey the work being done here. On the first day we met with the People's Hurricane Relief Fund, a coalition of over 50 organizations working to rebuild New Orleans. Shana, the organizer with whom we spoke, explained that the redevelopment progress is confronted with almost every social justice issue out there - from housing to racism to education to employment. Following our meeting with the PHRF, we took a driving tour of the lower ninth ward, the area most hard struck by Katrina. Four months gone, the 9th ward is still without water or electricity, the streets are still lined with debris, and the houses are in ruin. Some houses have gone completely missing, just washed away, only an imprint of a former home. As in the picture, vehicles were lifted and replanted when the water let down. Each house, as in this picture, has been marked by the National Guard, the "X" indicates inspection and the number in the bottom triangle indicates the number of bodies found inside the house. A tragic scene. The car was overcome with silence. The beautiful weather seemed like a facade for neighborhood in complete ruin.

Hello Brooklyn

2005-09-25T13:38:00.000-04:00

This blog has transformed from a creative outlet, to a form of communication, to a record of my time and now to a personal space to evaluate what I'm doing and where I am.

In the past month I've found an apartment in Flatbush, Brooklyn, I've taken a new internship, started classes at school, signed up for trampoline classes and reunited with the friends I've made along the way.

I'm living in Brooklyn with Alexis, uncannily, a friend from Covington Latin who is now in the same Urban Policy program here at The New School. We also have a third roommate, Jen, who is a friend of Alexis' from Miami University (Oxford, OH) and is now working for Teamsters for a Democratic Union. The three of us compliment each other well and I am looking forward to a healthy, laid back living situation. We are in a predominantly Carribean neighborhood and, not only are we excited about the manageable cost of living, we have been welcomed with enthusiasm by the neighbors.

My classes this semester are intensly skill oriented. I am taking Public Finance, Economics in International Affairs, Management and Organizational Beahvior and Globalization, Immigration and Transnationalism. The globalization/immigration class has been a great compliment to my travels this summer.

After the chaos that has been the month of September, I hope to find myself back in touch with this blog, journal, record, outlet.

From the Kentucky Coal mines...

2005-09-02T16:36:00.000-04:00

After my 15 day jamboree through the beach towns of Sicily, I returned to Rome for a flight home. And home it was, back to the house in which my family has resided long before my conception. Back to Chez Nora for dinner with mom and dad. Back to Gentry Photography and Carrie and Ang. Back to I-75 and the consistently distraught Kentucky Highway system. Back to Lexington, to the University of Kentucky, to Mia's to Susan, to Stephanie, to my crew.

Not much has changed. The grass was a little browner this year after the hot summer, and the political scandal a little deeper, but still, as I entered the 275 loop, I could feel my home again.

ahhh Italia

2005-08-05T12:39:00.000-04:00

After a few days in Rome, I am now in Giaio Tauro, a small town on the tip of the boot. Rome is, decisively, a large museum disguised as a city. We made sure to visit the colliseum, Roman Forum, St. Peters etc. Giaio Tauro is where Florens grew up. I have officially experience the Italian family dinner. In the morning we are headed to a few Islands just off of Sicily. THere we will, well, lay around on the beach and drink cocktails. Ahhh... In the meantime, the weather is beautiful, the villas charming and the food excellent.

As expected, I have much less access to Internet, as we are moving around quite a bit, but I will try to still post. I return to the USofA in less than two weeks. mamma mia!

The Next Metropolis

2005-07-31T08:42:00.000-04:00

Last night we had a big dinner at Geeti's house. It was me, Geeti, SK, the whole group that I went to the mountains with, Geeti's other aunt and cousin, Rohan, Apoorv and a few others. It is sad to leave all of the great people I've met but we had so much fun, I was barely able to think about it.

My thoughts about leaving Delhi are mixed for sure. I am finally feeling the relief of having completed my internship/paper - which I am quite happy with... It's really an amazing experience to mix a summer traveling adventure with a academic internship. Both were more powerful as a result of the other. I am certainly going to miss the awe and wonder that seemed everpresent in the trips through Delhi, to Bombay, Goa, the Taj Mahal, the Himalayas- and I am going to miss the bizarre and quirky humor- and the hospitality. I have a sense that I will see India again one day, but that is very unsure.

This said, there is still much ahead. I am really looking forward to Rome and Italy. Florens is meeting me at the airport tomorrow and another friend from New York, Wendy, will be joining us shortly thereafter. We are going to take a roadtrip (FLorens has a car) to Sicily sometime next week. It doesn't seem real. I'm excited about blue skies, green grass (Delhi is generally more on the gray and dusty side), more freedom and mobility, and all that Rome has to offer in history and culture.

The Walled City

2005-07-28T06:29:00.000-04:00

Shahjahanabad, or the Walled City, was built in 1639 and has since been continuously inhabited. It is surrounded on four sides by the Red Fort and is also home to Jama Masjid, India's largest Mosque. This was one of the most fascinating places I've ever seen. Without much opportunity for structural change, the area has maintained the narrow streets and historic buildings but simulateneously has become one of the most densely populated areas in the world. Geeti and I took a cyclerickshaw - which has one wheel in the front and is like a bike, but has two wheels and a seat in the back. There were very few cars. The roads were bumpy, and insanely crowded. We were running into all sorts of things and other rickshaws/motor bikes/people were running into us. The short temper of our cyclest/driver in no way aided the situation. He would get pissed off and just stop in the middle of the road while people shouted and honked around us! The Walled City is now a large wholesale market.

Agra Fort

2005-07-26T04:28:00.000-04:00

IMG_9772
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Being in Agra, we headed to Agra Fort. Agra Fort is one of these places where you walk around in circles, through passage ways, up dark stairs, under small door frames and then look around and realize you have no idea where you are or how to get out.

This picture is one of the outer walls, LtoR, Mike, Catlin (sp?), and Geeti. I met Mike and Catlin through Katie and we all rented a car together for the trip. There are more pictures in Flickr...

It was great fun.

Taj cont.

2005-07-26T04:23:00.000-04:00

IMG_9746
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

So, we went to the Taj yesterday. The 3:30am wake up call and blistering heat left us all a little somber for the experience, probably for the better. It is one of the world's wonders, after all. Just incredible.

It's so difficult for me to put into words the genius that goes into the construction of such a historic and fantastic monument.

The universal questions concerning really old, really beautiful, buildings/churches/mosques just overwhelm my thoughts - like, how ever did they, 400 years ago, plan and put into action such a thing? I just can't make it out in my head.

Taj Mahal and all

2005-07-26T04:16:00.000-04:00

IMG_9726
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Having almost gotten over passing a man with a brown bear on a leash, I then saw a man riding his bike while holding onto the back of a large truck barreling down the highway. This, along with the general flow (unflow) of traffic, the sanitation conditions, the scaffolding and building procedures, and more, all leave me to believe A) Americans are paranoid about safety or B)Indians don't give a damn/they just have other things to worry about. I'm not sure.

Full Moon Party

2005-07-24T04:42:00.000-04:00

Thursday was a full moon. A friend invited us to this fantastic party. It was a rooftop apartment with two big open porches with waterfalls, lights and a sound system. It was a small party with a very diverse crowd. good fun.

Friday I went to the National Museum. The artifacts of the Indus Valley Civilization were quite fascinating, both because of their age and the limited information avialable concerning these artifacts. Next to a pot from 3000 BC or something, there would be a sign that says, "pot" or "small figurine," in the case of a, well, small figurine.

I further delved into the culture with a Hindi film Friday night. That was very amusing.

I am short on things to say right now... preoccupied with my paper, I suppose...

moooooooo

2005-07-21T10:30:00.000-04:00

As my morning began with the cheery moo of a cow outside my window, I realized how I've so quickly become accustomed to the cows on the streets and the monkeys on the electric wires. When I first got here, every time I saw a cow, a monkey, or, well, I guess any non-housepet mammal, I would get really excited and point it out to Geeti, as if this were a spectacle that she had never seen before. It was a little ridiculous considering that there are cows everywhere. Today there was a herd of about 8 cows with horns coming at our car in the middle of the street... and I thought very little of it at the time!

We went to Palaka Bazaar today, which is this underground labyrinth-type shopping center. Geeti's cousin, who is half-Canadian, 17 yrs old, and lives in Vancouver, insisted that I wasn't a tough enough bargainer - meaning that when I paid $3 for the chess set, I should have paid $2. I guess I feel like the dealer can use that dollar (43Rs.) to better effect than me.

For lunch we went to "Wimpy's," which is the Indian version of McDonald's, before McDonald's made its fiery appearance in India a few years back. (people set the restaurant on fire) Wimpy is named after the guy who eats all the burgers in Popeye cartoons. Wimpy. It's such a funny name for a chain of fast food restaurants. It's so unassuming. Burger King vs Wimpy... I can never tell if this culture just possess such a cheeky sense of humor or if it's totally unintentional.

One last mention of the bemusements of my newspaper reading - yesterday there was an article, "Identifying a Terrorist" Such identifiers were listed as so...
- By clothes unsuited for the time of year e.g. wearing a coat or jacket in the summer,
- A person trying to blend with his surroundings by his dress and behaviour, though he doesn't belong to the group, and
- Anything protruding unnaturally under his clothing could be arms or explosives.

I think this strikes me so funny because it is so vague, but one has to wonder what an American paper would write.... *enter religious and racial stereotypes here*

anyhow, tonight a full moon party awaits me...

Asian Age

2005-07-19T05:22:00.000-04:00

NCW sets task force to control foeticide
By OUR CORRESPONDENT

New Delhi, July 18: In the last ten years from 1991 to 2001, the country has lost 1.37 crores girls to the pre-sex determination techniques rampantly adopted by the Indian patriarchal families preferring a male child.
And if this practice to determine the sex of the unborn child or foetus continue unabated then in the next five years over 23 million young men will have no girl to marry.

This is copied exactly from an article in Asian Age. oh dear.

Social Life

2005-07-19T02:43:00.000-04:00

Toby is a tall blonde boy who was working for the Swedish embassy in India. He's now in Russia. I met him a few weeks ago when I was out one night at this club where people were not allowed to dance. It was one man's job to go around and point at people and yell, "no dancing!" when their hips started to move or their head started to bob. He took great authority in this job.

Toby thought it very strange meeting me because he knows another Katie from the US who is interning in Delhi. He sent a text message and, sure enough, the next day I got a call from this other American Katie interning in India. Before I get to that, though, as we departed, Toby told me my bag was fabulous and then invited my friends and I out the following Tuesday night. (This was two weeks ago)

So, we joined Toby Tuesday night. We entered the club, and looking through the darkness it was apparent that Geeti and I were the only women in the club and that we struck no interest in the boys around us. By midnight the place was packed full. It was very dark with lights flashing, men dancing, and loud Bollywood dance music.

I was dancing with a guy who leaned down and screamed into my ear, "I'm not gay!" "what??" "I'm not gay!!" "Oh. Okay," I said, and kept dancing. He started yelling again, "I didn't know about this!" "what?" "I came here just for a drink, I didn't know!" "Oh. Ok." I said again. "I really had no idea," he yelled again. I didn't care remotely but I was getting a great kick out of how desperately he was trying to explain his heterosexuality.

All in all, we had a very good time.

Last night, Geeti, Rohan, and I went for dinner with Katie and three of her friends. Three of them work for a furniture design company in Delhi, one is just visiting. The one who is visiting, Katie, and another, Mike, all went to Rhode Island School of Design. It was great fun. We are going to try to go to the Taj Mahal with them this week or next.

Katie was talking about her favorite part of Delhi newspapers, the message boards. There people write in things like, "You were the girl in the pink salwar kameez. I was the man standing outside the bank. I was smiling at you, you remember. Please call! 93129-09898" or "Dear teddy-bear, please forgive me. You know my heart only belongs to you." Then there are the personals, "Looking for fair-skinned domesticated woman to marry successful Brahman in the banking business." A marriage proposition like that, who wouldn't be interested?

I have less than two weeks remaining and I have some serious tourism to do. I also have to write my paper and try to hang out one last time with all the new friends I've made along the way. Then, I am off to Rome. I can't believe how much I've learned since day 1.

Mid-life crisis

2005-07-16T09:06:00.000-04:00

In my staring at the paper to be written, I find my mind wandering into the abyss of my future. I thought this summer in India would give me an idea of where I want to be when I finish grad school in the spring. I still have no idea. I want to travel the world but I value and miss my friends and family and home too. I want to work in international urban policy but I want to go back and work in/for Kentucky too. I want to be a writer and journalist but I want to do policy and politics too. I want to resign from the troubles of the world but I want to solve them. That's all. Now I must get ready for a party.

Putting theories on paper

2005-07-16T08:47:00.000-04:00

I've been spending much time staring at the master plan and supplemental readings lately, hoping that something in the form of a substantive paper will appear. It turns out that these things don't just appear. But, for an update, I have narrowed my research and formulated a thesis. I am taking out trends from this master plan, as changed from previous master plans, towards privatization and devolution of governance. I then have demographic data that shows how the Delhi population is increasing at much higher rates in certain parts of the city. The proportion of people in those sections with high rates of population increase simultaneously have increasing rates of poverty. This connection made, I am going to hypothesize that the privatization and devolution of power (which gives local authority to these communities but also takes the burden off the government and leaves each community with funding based on the wealth of the population in the given community) are perpetuating the socioeconomic divide. I hypothesize that this perpetuation leads to health and violence problems (and costs) and, if continued, will lead to civil unrest. Two weeks to go.

Monsoon Season

2005-07-14T04:20:00.000-04:00

beach1
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

I finally arrived in Goa, ready to hang out by the beach and play in the pool. Unfortunately, as I should have deduced from the discounted hotel rate, this was not the best time to be in Goa. It’s the middle of Monsoon season. So, the first day it rained a lot. At night however, after navigating some flooded streets, we found a nice restaurant with good food. While the food agreed with me, I did not agree with the food. I spent the next day sick and vomiting. Fortunately, Geeti’s uncle is doctor and Geeti, who had met up with me the day before, got a hold of some medicine for me. I was supposed to have a 30-hour train ride the following day. This did not sound fun, especially considering the bathrooms, which are no more than two footprints and a hole that let out directly onto the tracks. As I was achy, cold and vomiting, we booked a plane ticket home and I arrived safely back in Delhi, with only the remnants of a nasty stomach infection.

Passing Countryside

2005-07-14T04:18:00.000-04:00

fromtrain
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

The train ride to Goa was a little more eventful than the one before. There was a young guy sitting next to me, he was headed to Goa with a group of his colleagues for a conference and to party. He and his colleagues were all models. These guys were a little less aggressive but, as I was one of the only women on the entire train, and these men make their livings from looking good, I found myself the center of some sort of testosterone competition that I had no interest in participating in. The doors to the train stay open and so I stood at the entrance, chatted with these guys, some of whom had pretty interesting stories, and enjoyed the fresh air as the countryside passed by.

Still Innocent

2005-07-14T04:17:00.000-04:00

Boys1
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

I had learned an important lesson the day before – don’t make eye contact. A boy, younger than me, came up trying to sell me maps. Thinking it odd that he had returned after I had just refused these maps, I looked up at him to confirm that it was the same boy. It wasn’t, so I told him no and walked on. A few minutes later I saw him again, he tried to sell me the maps again. I said no a little more ferociously this time, and despite his insistence, I walked on. He then started yelling, “but you looked at me. You looked at me. Why did you look at me?” It was a bit creepy.

Lesson learned, I focused most of my attention towards the ground. Bombay has some dirty sidewalks, that’s for sure. Needless to say, however, I was not there to see the sidewalks. This combined with the cars that slowed down, the continued propositions and the shouting, although in Hindi, still clearly in the tone of harassment, left my blood boiling. I began to wonder at what point the beauty of such a culture succumbs to the patriarchy that dominates it. Although I think it is of no consequence, I might also mention that I was wearing baggy trousers, an old t-shirt and a bandana in my hair. Nothing that revealed any more than customary. I was entirely frustrated, sweaty and now lost, as I had spent most of the afternoon looking down. I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out where I was and how to get back.

That night I met up with two friends of a friend of Geeti’s. I will submit that Indian hospitality is some of the best in the world. I called this girl, told her who had given me her number and she invited me to have a drink. We found ourselves at this strange mall conglomeration that had sprouted out of the textile mills. We chatted for a few hours, she took the bill and I got in a cab and headed back to the Y. It was a relaxing way to end the day.

Gandhi and Corporate Logo

2005-07-14T04:11:00.000-04:00

monument
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

With only my own ambitions, I took Saturday to explore the city on my own. I had a list of things to see – 1) Bombay University, 2) Marine Drive, 3) … well; I hadn’t really listed my ambitions much further. So, I headed for BU. The University was aflutter with young people. I found the bookstore and spent some time strolling the bookcases. Then, with relative ease, considering my tendency to lose my geographical bearing, I found Marine Drive. Marine Drive is a large concave semi-circle of development that opens to the Arabian Sea. There were people lined on the surrounding wall, appreciating the cool breeze. I sat there, feet dangling, and watched the brown crabs below. The skyline on the other side reminded me of the view of New Jersey from Chelsea Piers. The differences and similarities were a nice reminder of where I’d return in the fall and where I was at that moment. It was all also a nice reminder of the difference between where I was, New York City, and my home in Kentucky.

I pulled out my camera. As soon as I turned it on, the battery died. I looked through my bag only realize that I had made the photographer’s fatal flaw – I had forgotten my spare battery at the YWCA. Without my camera to direct my view to the more beautiful elements of the city, I soon found myself again frustrated and overwhelmed at the again aggressive male culture. I would estimate the street male: female ratio at about 10:1. Women stay inside.

Ghost Trails

2005-07-14T04:08:00.000-04:00

ArtDeco2
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

The unfortunate truth is that there only remains a ghost of that rising city. The area in which I was staying hardly represented the city itself. More than half of the population of Mumbai lives in slums. This is the largest percentage of an urban population living in slums in the world. In Delhi, less than a third of the population lives in slums. Mumbai seems to have had greater success at segregating the populations, however. Yogi, a friend of SK’s and a journalist in Mumbai, had picked me up from the train station and also suggested that we go on a bus ride to see a greater picture of the city. Yogi, his son, and myself took a train to the northern tip of the city. The train and train station had been there, much unchanged, since the 1870s. The trains were operating at over four times their capacity. Passengers are crowded out the door, barely holding onto the rails on the sides and the back. Fortunately our train wasn’t too crowded and I got a window seat. From the train I witnessed the dilapidation of the city. At the final train stop I looked beyond the platform to see slums literally piled on top of each other into 4- and 5- story “housing units.” Constructed of blue tarp and rusted metal awnings, their fortitude seemed to defy gravity. Dogs and pigs sniffed through the garbage and children, barely clothed, played in the mud. From there made our way to a bus that would take us back south, this time on the east side of the city. From this view I could see how the city was divided. First, we traveled through more slums, then there was the industrial neighborhood and the working class neighborhood and the textile mills and then we were back by the government buildings. The segregation was surreal. This was all one city. This was the picture of Mumbai.

Colaba, Colaba

2005-07-14T04:02:00.000-04:00

BombayFlower1
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

So, that inner-conflict settled for now, I made my way to the YWCA, and soon after set out to see the city. I was staying in Colaba and the area around me was beautiful. Large green spaces, monuments, landscaping, street life, historic churches and buildings – this seemed a different world from Delhi. There was an interesting combination of Victorian architecture from pre-independence (India gained Independence in 1947) and Art Deco architecture from the 60s and 70s. The wear of the sun, and the rain, and the life around was evident in the facades, but the ghost of a once rising city and growing economy could be seen in the unique and still modern design.

All Aboard

2005-07-14T03:58:00.000-04:00

train2
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Thursday afternoon I boarded the train for Mumbai. The Indian government changed the name of many cities and towns in attempt to rid them of the history of British colonialism. Formerly Bombay, officially Mumbai, people here use the names interchangeably.

I found myself alone a cabin with 7 people from one Indian family. There were a few awkward exchanges and then I kept to myself for the remainder of the journey. It was a night train so I thought I’d get some sleep. Unfortunately, the man on the adjacent bed had some breathing troubles and, without a stir, kept the rest of the cabin restless.

This gave me time to listen to 7 hours of Howard Zinn’s, “A People’s History of the United States” on my iPod (I profess here my love for this technology) and also to think about the dinner I last wrote about – about myself and my aspirations in the context of a rapidly globalizing world. The combination of Zinn and the comments left on my blog brought me to some realizations. First, that any body, whether a nation, a demographic, or whatever it may be, is the collective, not one side or another, the chorus per se. Meaning, one cannot make any assessment about the individual based on his/her belonging to a group. I’ve held this as a strong belief for many years but for some reason I failed to apply it to myself in this case. The comments from Susan and “anonymous” made me further realize the contradiction I was making. I completely understand where Susan is coming from, considering her participation in the National Guard, but that’s exactly the point, I am an individual, not the armed forces of a country. I bring only my perspective and an open-mind, I cannot claim to or attempt to represent more.

Off to Bombay and Goa

2005-07-07T04:16:00.000-04:00

In 20 minutes I am leaving to catch a 16-hour train ride to Bombay. I am staying at the YWCA in Bombay, and just hanging out in the city. From Bombay I will take a 13-hour train ride to Goa. Goa is a beautiful coastal town. There I will lay around all day on the beach. Then I will take an 18-hour train ride back to Delhi. I will likely not post again until I return, at which point I hope to have many lovely stories.

Passion, Insecurity and Pasta

2005-07-03T14:48:00.000-04:00

Tonight Geeti and I joined four women, all of whom identify as feminists, for a nice Italian dinner. We talked about issues from arranged marriage to pornography. It was a great conversation - there were many disagreements and I heard new and interesting perspectives. Then, one woman was commenting on how incredible it was to see people mobilize in such numbers around the war in Iraq, in both the US and elsewhere. Another woman interjected, saying that it was true that many people marched in the streets but none of it really mattered because the war still happened, the government still did what it wanted to do, no matter what the people said. She brought civic activism down to naivete and then pronounced that the governments of western democracies do whatever they want and that the only resolve is to overthrow the government. She said that there is no difference between Democrats and Republicans and that the US is becoming less and less democratic - it's all corrupt. I am the first to look at the government with a critical eye and I will not be found defending much of US foreign policy but this affected me. All at once my anger and passion for social progress seemed to inhabit the small space between my chin and my forehead. Red-faced, I felt restrained, as I was a guest in the company of four accomplished women, all my senior. She continued, not giving Geeti nor I an opportunity to speak, despite many attempts.

First, I must comment on her statements. While the Democratic Party doesn't always align perfectly with or fulfill my own ideology, I felt she made a broad and oversimplified assertation, without regard to the fact that I am an American, that I am politically conscious and that I vote. Although Kerry, like most politicians, represents a certain demographic with a certain line of vision, and one might suggest he the "lesser of two evils," certainly the lesser he is. Further, to suggest the political activism serves no purpose is abhorrent. ahh!

Okay, so she adequately riled me up.

But, second, I must also provide the lesson I learned after regaining more rational thinking. I have to acknowledge that such a conversation would not have hit so hard if it were in the US. Why? Perhaps I can connect on the fact that sometimes it's hard to tell the political parties apart. Perhaps I could have dismissed it as ignorance, that the person just didn't understand politics and policy. But apart from trying to understand why this affected me so much, I was forced into the shoes of someone not from the US being told by an American how to run her/his own country. It's hard to swallow. Sometimes there is a greater theoretical basis for governance and process but when it comes down to making decisions that affect people's daily lives, without knowing it or living in it just seems ludicrous.

Which brings me to the next piece of the puzzle... my aspirations for international policy work. Here I am sweating over one woman's comments on political activism and partisan politics in my country, while I am in her country writing a critique of the city's policy and planning document which, when published, will create an agenda for the next 20 years. I haven't the slightest idea what it feels like to live in a Delhi slum - what makes it okay to tell them what's wrong with their ideas for change? The focus/thesis of my critique is of the vested interests, biased process of production, and inherent contradictions in the Master Plan - all which perpetuate the socio-economic divide. Now, this is consistent with my aversion to policymaking without consideration of all involved stakeholders, however, I cannot help but feel a little less confident about the whole purpose of my being here.

This is all still very fresh in my mind so I'd like to hear people's thoughts...

Melting Ice Cream, Melting Pot

2005-07-03T13:10:00.000-04:00

I have noticed a certain divergence in my latest blogs. It is true that culture shock fades with time but I must confirm that the brazeness of the culture still invades (invasiveness not negative, in this case) my daily experience. The most basic outings each contain new observations and realizations. My nose perpetually pressed against the car window, with time, I've been less blinded by the social inequities and more aware of the subtleties. Although no society can be understood in two months, I am finding that really getting to live in a place brings so much light to the livelihood of local people.

One reoccurring quality that I've found in the people I meet is a brilliant sense of humor. Most often, likely because I seem to have the word "American" written on my forehead, the sense of humor revolves around living in India. It's a nice light heartedness for a people, particularly those that I meet (friends of Geeti, of whom she's prerequisited with a social awareness), to look at the various/varying contributions of their country. On the one hand, there is the whole-hearted commitment to tradition and custom, and on the other hand, there is Bollywood pop music, which gives the earliest Britney Spears songs a run for their money. And on the other hand, imperfect English gets published on billboards and in newspapers with no consequence. No concern is given to the fact that one has only two hands, for instance.

A more complicated humor often exists surrounding regional stereotypes. Friday night Geeti needed to stay in with Abhishek, and I found myself out with Rohan. I met some new and really interesting people. Anyhow, despite the incessence of Rohan's talking, and a strong tendency for chauvisnism (for which I actually slapped him once, after a night of dancing), he displayed a very informative perspective of his country. He said, that although in America the "melting pot" brings a wider geographical population, India inhabits its own melting pot, comparable to the US. Shedding both insight on his personality and the theory at hand, he explained that while he was doing online "gaming" he came up against somebody with an Indian name. He immediately asked this "gamer" where he was from. Rohan said that when he discovered that his opponent was Bengali he felt as little ethnic connection to this person as he might have of a French or German. The division between North and South India is the most prominant, from food to dress to language, but there are differences across each state and region. Delhi is dominated by Punjabi and I have, on several occasions, heard the word "Punjabified" used in casual conversation. Geeti explained that this is symbol of their dominance as well as, when used negatively, a more crass or crude culture. As part of "the great melting pot," it is clear that there are far more cultural diversities from one state to another than there might be, for example, from Colorado to Virginia. (I'll add a disclaimer that I do appreciate American regional diversities very much) As the urban and political center, Delhi specifically inhabits a strong diversity of Indian cultures.

Want to Talk Good English?

2005-06-30T15:45:00.000-04:00

This morning I met with an activist who is similarly working on a critique of the Delhi Master Plan. He expressed his disdain for (among many other people) the academics who fail to stand up against the inequities of the plan. These are the same academics for whom I am working. In the morning I have another meeting, this time with the director of the Delhi Development Authority, by whom the Master Plan is written. I will compare notes on these meetings soon but I have a feeling that I must embrace the role of an ignorant American lest I get too tied up in some hard feelings and dirty politics.

In other news...

To the amusement of the women who live and work in the house, I am trying to learn some Hindi. Now I can count and ask for food and tell people my name. With this vocabulary I will be able to make many new friends. "Hello, my name is Katie." "Seven." "Are there chickpeas?" "Four." "Give me water." (the unfortunate translation of my limited vocabulary) "Goodbye"

Apart from SK, Geeti and I, Geeti's younger brother Abhishek also lives in the house. Abhishek is autistic and extremely energetic. It can be a bit chaotic at times. As I've been told before, people with autism have a particular affinity for trampolines. I also have a particular affinity for trampolines. Recently catching wind of my former life as a trampolinest, SK found it, albeit peculiar, perhaps a fruitful skill. We tossed around ideas for an ideally located trampoline on which I could teach Abhishek to do tricks. I have nearly convinced him that the house in the mountains is ideal, and that, for only the charge of housing and transportation, he could fly me to the house where I would teach Abhishek to do flips. I knew all of those years of training would come in handy again one day.

A friend from school put me in touch with a recent Milano grad who has been travelling in India for the Summer. We met up tonight for dinner and she left me with some invaluable advice. The old, "Indian husband" line. That is, in a taxi, shop, or wherever one might run into trouble with the overly agressive male culture, one should just explain that her husband is waiting and that he has a very bad temper. Geeti and I are excited at the prospect of the many new opportunities to create such alter egos. I am open for suggestions for elaboration of said story... I was think his name might be Fez. "No thanks. Fez, my husband, is waiting, and he gets very very angry." I am so amused.

Finally, in regards to the title... it is taken from the title of a newspaper ad for an english-language school. The diction choices can be quite funny here. Another memorable ad, at a gas station, said "In memory of the soldiers at Kargil who fought bloody battle."

Goodnight.

The War Between the Worlds

2005-06-25T02:03:00.000-04:00

The West vs. the East. Hollywood vs. Bollywood. The heat has left Geeti and I an excuse to tour the cultural phenomenon that is the mall. Three nearby adjacent malls host stores ranging from Indian novelty shops to “Levis,” and restaurants such as “Barista” (the Indian version of Starbucks), “O’Brien’s Irish Sandwich Shoppe,” and the ever so exotic, “Ruby Tuesdays.” Development plans are in the works to build the world’s largest mall only a few minutes from Geeti’s house. The world’s largest mall? In the midst of all the homelessness and poverty, the surface of which I’ve only been able to represent in these entries…

Just as home, stores and advertisements line the walls. Men and women come and go, some in traditional dress, others in jeans and t-shirts, all with bags in hand. In a world where I am constantly aware of my race and nationality, I can’t help but notice the familiarity of the advertisements. The storefronts, the walls, the bags - all adorned with blonde malnourished fair-skinned women. I might also mention the market here for “skin bleach.” It turns out, darkness of skin and caste position are not unrelated.

Well, as all good malls do, these malls have cinemas. And, despite the added weight to my conscience, I have seen two movies – “Batman Begins” and “Mr. and Mrs. Smith.” My repertoire of developing nation cinema-going-experiences also hosts a theatre in Guatemala, where dad and I saw, “El Dia Despues Manana,” also known as “The Day After Tomorrow,” the thriller where global warming leaves a scientist’s son stuck in a NYC public library after the US and Canada are iced over by a second ice-age like storm (only to be saved by Mexico after the US agrees to relieve their debt, I might add).

After a thorough, very thorough, security frisking, we gave our $3 tickets and bought our $1.50 popcorn and sodas. Sitting in the theatre, Brad Pitt and Angalina Joli on screen, as in Guatemala, I find myself wondering what is going through the heads of the men and women sitting around me. Mr. and Mrs Smith – the story of an American couple living in suburbia, both undercover hit people, given assignments to kill each other – “The Noose” in Chelsea cannot even compete with this S&M subtext.

Then, this morning, over cornflakes and coffee, I was reading “ The Economic Times.” For every four articles, at least three referenced the US. One article was about the US inspecting call centers in Delhi (the megaplexes of outsourced jobs where Indians answer customer questions and complaints for US businesses, mostly banks). Another article was about car theft in Delhi, which opened with a description of “Gone in 60 Seconds,” and begs the question, can car theft, as portrayed by Nicholas Cage, really happen? Another article reports on the Minister of Defense’s visit to the US – the minister explains that this is a visit to improve US-Indo relations, not to buy weapons. Finally, there is an article on political movement against strip clubs in Bombay, referencing the history of strip clubs in Pittsburgh (?) and Las Vegas.

All of this a disturbing reminder that to so many people the US is represented by shopping malls, Brad Pitt and the Bush administration. Who wouldn’t hold a grudge?

Dinner Party

2005-06-22T06:28:00.000-04:00

Last night, SK, Geeti and I were invited to a family friend’s house for dinner. Despite the 8:30 invitation, we arrived at 9:30, about 45 minutes before another couple arrived. We had appetizers and chatted until around midnight, when, at last, we sat down for dinner. While I found the dinner party routine interesting, the stories told were far more exciting.

I was in brilliant company – a former ambassador to the UN, an artist, the first Indian on the International Planning something something Council, a florist and an engineer. Unique and eclectic people. We talked about fashion, politics, art and history. I learned that the first monorail was built for an alcoholic Maharaja in Punjab. Apparently a French man and 6 women came to the Maharaja, with only champaigne and fine clothes, to pitch this idea of a monorail, as all great rulers had their own train, but not yet one with only one wheel. Convinced, the Maharaja agreed and later a one-track, one-wheel train was built to circle the Maharaja’s Palace. Unfortunately, the train needed the support of a cart-wheel for balance and so it was attached. Thereafter, the glorious monorail bobbled around the palace. So romantic.

Then, after a few drinks, they began to tell stories of their youth. I suppose I’ve always isolated the imagery of flower power and bell-bottoms to the Americans and the British. To hear about the 70s from upper caste left-wing Indians was exceptional. Getting high, listening to the Beatles… donating revolvers to the Communists… again, so romantic.

330 Million Gods and Goddesses

2005-06-22T06:24:00.000-04:00

girl
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

This nation is supposedly home to 330 million gods and goddesses. I have yet to pay homage to the gods and goddesses of Indian food. Years of vegetarianism have yet to leave me so fulfilled. In the name of the mango, the korma and the onion naan. Amen.

45.5 C = 114 F

2005-06-22T06:22:00.000-04:00

monkey jump
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Yesterday Delhi hit a five-year high. Have you ever wanted to know how the inside of an oven feels? It’s not pleasant.

The picture, by the way, is totally unrelated, but too cute not to share.

Sunrise Sunrise

2005-06-22T06:20:00.000-04:00

sunrise
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Did I mention that the mountains were gorgeous? And yes, for all you disbelievers, I was awake for the sunrise, and, yes, I also went to bed the night before.

Hippie Brits in the Mountains

2005-06-22T06:19:00.000-04:00

theroad2
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Five of us took a car up to Dhanaulti, a beautiful mountaintop village. It took us about 4 hours each way, on a one lane dirt road, on the side of the mountain, a very large curvy mountain, with goats and cows and without a guard rail in sight - none of which seemed to phase the driver. But, apart from drafting my will, we stopped and had lunch at "Andiji's" Upon entrance I first noticed the "evolving restaurant" sign. Soon after, the psychedelic swirls painted on the walls, the disco ball, the mismatched thriftstore flatware and the sound of the Red Hot Chili Peppers made a theme. The owner, Andiji, formerly Andy, sported long blonde dreads and a British accent. He appeared without bath. I doubted this his home village. He told us that 5 years ago he had just packed up, moved to the mountains and opened a restaurant. The food was good but the spinach pizza made me feel funny.

hih – MA – lee – uhs

2005-06-22T06:16:00.000-04:00

thecabin
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

With a party of 9 total, friends and family of SK and Geeti, we adventured to SK’s cabin, for a long weekend in the Himalayas. This cabin, isolated from the village, sits, or perhaps balances, at the very edge of a mountain amongst many enormous, beautiful mountains. With incredible views to see and mountainsides to overcome, I wanted to get out and hike, climb, and explore. I, however, was the only one in my party to think this a legitimate, let alone enjoyable, expenditure of vacation time.

Last week, I had dinner with Geeti and one of her friends, Leslie, who writes travel books. Leslie explained that Indians who travel, do so in style. There is none of this backpacking, budget hotels, cheap eats…. It’s about wine, dining and 5-star hotels. Manual work is considered a sign of lower class status. There is little sense of pride in doing things for oneself.

This said, it took convincing to get the two young guys to join me on an only 30 minute walk to the nearby Kempty Falls. I have no concept of how many feet this waterfall was, but it was big, and gorgeous. At various levels of the falls there were pools where men, barely clothed at all, and women, in full saris, were bathing and enjoying the water. Mountain goats were climbing on the sides and older folks were sitting in the shade. Being both a beautiful natural phenomenon and isolated, the falls drew people but hadn’t yet been overrun. It was well worth the short hike.

Jantar Mantar

2005-06-22T06:14:00.000-04:00

astronomyarial
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

I am going to backtrack a little to last week and the trip to Jaipur. While there, we visited Jantar Mantar, an observatory built by Jai Singh between 1728 and 1734. There were 16 instruments built to tell time, forecast crop prospects, determine the position of the planets, tell the altitude of the sun and to make accurate horoscopes. There was a 75-ft. sundial. Much to my satisfaction, the instruments were open to climbing. Supposedly, some of these instruments are still used to predict heat of the summer months and the arrival of monsoon season. It was fascinating.

Elephant #89

2005-06-15T17:01:00.000-04:00

elephant
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

I have much more to say about Jaipur and the fortresses we visited there but have run out of time. I could not, however, go without posting the elephant ride. So, here it is, elephant #89, our transport to the top of Ambar fortress.

I am headed to the Himalayas until next week and will likely be without much technology so I will repost again then.

National Highway 8

2005-06-15T16:54:00.000-04:00

citypalace
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Yesterday I took a day trip to Jaipur, "the pink city." It was about 6 hours drive and I was able to see some of rural India on the way. We took National Hwy 8 to get there, and I've never seen so many camels in my life. (granted... I've not seen too many) These camels were not roadside, either, just part of the traffic flow. The fields were brown, the weather unfathomable but families were visible in the horizon, working in the "fields." Not fields of green, that's certain. In the browned horizon, however, it was incredible to see the women walking in bright blue, pink, and orange saris.

We passed through stretches of small towns plastered with pepsi advertisements and through spans of emptiness, with the foothills of the HImalayas in the distance. I saw cows, goats, sheep, donkeys, camels, elephants and monkeys, a large group of about 40 monkeys climbing and jumping around. I saw large interstate trucks decorated with reds, greens, pretty pictures and happy slogans, not the beast-like 18-wheelers on I-75. I saw a group of Jain's walking roadside. This religious group, beginnings alongside Buddhism, vow never to kill another living being. They wear all white, including white masks, as to not inhale the world's smaller creatures. The drive alone offered so much culture, and life. I am a lucky person. I am reminded of this every day I am here. We finally made it to Jaipur. It was a relief to be without the poverty and density of Delhi.

added dimension to preservation

2005-06-12T11:41:00.000-04:00

After some discussion, I realized that much of preservation is reserved for the Hindu hisotry over the Muslim history. So, the question of priority sheds a layer.

green parrots and white girls

2005-06-12T11:29:00.000-04:00

greenparrot
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

People stare at me. At Humayun's tomb a man asked me to stand with his family in their family photo. I wonder how the language exists for privilege and racism in Hindi. What thoughts and presumptions exist behind the stares? How is the world of a white woman imagined? Is it somehow accurate?

dead people in big buildings

2005-06-12T10:56:00.000-04:00

maintomb2
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

We went to see Humayan's tomb yesterday. Humayun was the second Mughal emporer, his tomb constructed in 1565. In 1555 he claimed Delhi, but not long after he died from a tragic fall out of a second floor library. Coincidentally, on the ground, only 5 feet from the place of his collision, there lie a copy of Dostoevsky's "The Brothers Karamazov."

The tomb is on the world's historic preservation list, priding, "...shall be preserved for the betterment of all humanity." The grounds incredible and deserving of such praise, I wonder what it takes to achieve such status. In the evening, Geeti and I sometimes go to Lodi Gardens, also home to some gorgeous tombs and historic architecture. Here, though, they are falling apart. Pieces of the structure lying about, I wonder if size is the primary determinant of preservation, or the quality of the diceased inside, or the detailing. I think about how the US would likely protect such a monument of history, put up hot dog stands and charge an entrance fee. How does preservation rank upon government responsibility and priority, when so much else also plagues the country. Is it better to commercialize and protect or to let hitory take its own path?

corn at the president's house

2005-06-12T10:00:00.000-04:00

corn2
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

We went to the president's house, the government offices, and India Gate last Thursday. The walls and buildings were all constructed with red sandstone - I love the red... the heat and dust make the air thick and dull, the colors stand out. The buildings were enormous, the president's house, Rashtrapati Bhavan, covers 4 1/2 acres. (i've forgotten to load the pictures) After being asked to go elsewhere several times, we walked down to India Gate, a 30 ft. wide gate commemorating the veterans of WWI. The open grass leading to the gate was filled with families picnicing and children playing. We spotted a man cooking corn on a small bed of coals - and for only 10 rupees we each took an ear. This is me, at the president's house, with corn in my mouth.

Inside...

2005-06-09T06:57:00.000-04:00

insidehouse
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Without much knowledge of architecture, I've noticed that most houses here are cubist, I guess. Meaning, they have many 90 degree angles and are somewhat blocky. (I should write about architecture more often) Anyhow, the inside decor is similar. Very minimalist with squares and only the random artistic asymmetry. This house also has some really great lighting. The master bedroom, at the top of the house, has blue lights and glowing dots, as the night sky. Very cool.

The House

2005-06-09T06:48:00.000-04:00

house1a
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

This is where I am staying. SK designed the house. It's quite incredible. One day, when I have wealth and stability, I may ask SK to design my house. Oh, or perhaps my bro. Chris, would you design a house for me? I'll... um... do some policy analysis for you.

Paradise City

2005-06-09T06:04:00.000-04:00

I had my first glimpse of Delhi nightlife last night. Geeti, myself, and her two friends, Rohan (as in Lord of the Rings, he proudly notes) and Apoorv, made our way to "Tortoise Cottage." Oddly, on a Wednesday night, we had to wait outside, as it was too crowded. We then had to get stamps in order to go downstairs to the dance floor. It has become more and more obvious that going anywhere in India (or the world, I'll add) means knowing people. So, with Rohan's connection, we were covertly stamped on the inside of our hands as he introduced us to this gatekeeper man. As we headed downstairs I could scarcely hear the music before the door opened and I thought, wow, this sounds vaguely like the Guns and Roses I used to hear from my brothers' room as I a child. Indeed, the door opened to a smoky room, packed full of people dancing and screaming, "take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty." This was followed by a little Van Morrison, Rage Against the Machine and Oasis. Despite the random, somewhat outdated, western rock music, I finally witnessed the side of the culture where people let their hair down. Sleeveless shirts, dancing, I even saw boys and girls kissing. It was wild. One of the older women in the crowd, Alka, befriended me and kept giving me the peace sign. I wanted to tell her that I am not an alien, nor do I have any intention of invading her planet. I refrained. All in all, we had a very nice time and in this case I didn't so much mind being chauffeured.

GeeTi Phone Home

2005-06-07T16:06:00.000-04:00

I have yet to defeat my jet lag so this morning I was awakened by one of the women working here. She knocked and said, in a very rehearsed way, "Geeti phone. Geeti phone." Although all upper class Indians know English, and it is a national language, most people in Delhi speak Hindi. This holds true for the drivers and other service people working here for SK. I was at the house alone until 6:00 today. I know only how to say "hello" in Hindi and it turns out, Nehru, the cook, only knows how to say "thank you" in English. Now, I've been in situations where I didn't know the language, but I've always had some clue, Latin bases or whatever it may be. Today, however, I had nothing. It was painful, but humorous at first. We would try to hand gesture, point, etc., and I was laughing. But by 5:00, when the only progress I had made was, "coffee," it wasn't so funny anymore. On top of it, Nehru and the others feel it is their duty to make sure I am happy at all times, which itself is overwhelming, even more when we make no sense to one another. So, the moral of the story: communication, good. bilingualism, good. lunch, more good.

Other random thoughts... there continue to be blackouts, I regularly see baby lizards climbing on the walls, it was 108 degrees F this afternoon, I had to flee the path of a cow yesterday and monkeys hang out by the government buildings.

The internship...

2005-06-06T16:08:00.000-04:00

Beyond my ranting about education and subsidization, I also learned, more specifically, what I will be working on this summer. I have a great deal of freedom and autonomy in how I choose to direct my research. I am first assigned to put together background on demographics in Delhi over the past 20 years. Then, as I knew, I will be looking at the recently issued Delhi Master Plan (DMP2021) and all prior master plans. I had thought that these master plans were issued in increments of about 5 years, but it turns out that the first was issued in 1961, the next in 1981 and now this one, issued in 2001, an extension of the others and mission for the year 2021. 20 years per plan? Mind boggling. The change India has seen in 20 years is phenomenal, not too mention they undershot population growth in Delhi by millions. In any case, I will be looking at the shift towards privatization and commercialization, as outlined by the master plans. There also currently exists political struggle in Delhi between those who want to see the city develop as a residential area and those who would like to see industrial growth. I personally am interested in the ways that these struggles are translated into environmental policy. My observations already show that an environmental sentiment exists, as all public busses are labelled, "propelled by clean fuel," but simultaneously, squatters live amongst piles of garbage and waste. At the end of the summer I have been asked to give a presentation on my findings to Professor Kundu's colleagues and other students. This part is a bit intimidating. In the meantime, I am sure my focus will change and develop and I will find much to blog about.

200 Rupees

2005-06-06T15:45:00.000-04:00

I went to Jawaharlal Nehru Univeristy and met with Professor Kundu today. JNU is a school only for graduate studies, one of the best in India. My curiousity led me to ask tuition rates for such a University - and with a small chuckle, SK explained that student fees for one year are 200 rupees, and that higher education is highly subsidized. There are about 43 rupees to the dollar, translating to a tuition of about $4 per year. My initial sentiment was excitement that such an education can be achieved with negligent cost... however, one then must notice which demographic has the education, background and time to get a graduate degree... certainly not the working poor. Only further evidence of the intentional maintainence of class status in this society. Why subsidize such higher education when so many children haven't the means to a primary education? Further, why use government money to pay for an institution in which the students enrolled have allowances to spend an entire semester's tuition on lunch at McDonald's?

Yellow wallpaper

2005-06-05T15:33:00.000-04:00

Only three days past and already I begin to feel the walls closing. Not yet suffocated, only noticing the lack of freedom that I so casually enjoy at home. Geeti’s father is a very talented architect who has, through his work, climbed into a social class privy to cooks, drivers and all other service people. Each day I return to a bed made with different blankets, clean towels and a swept floor. Every meal is prepared and served at my calling and my each outing is chauffeured. I don’t even open doors anymore. The privilege I have is only a fraction of the life so many here aspire and work for. Still, being waited on hand and foot doesn’t seem like the proper reward for such achievement. I cannot walk down the street without first confirming my purpose and destination, and in the case that I am allowed to safely go alone, I must endure uncomfortable glares and accept the social faux pas that I am inevitably committing. As such a lifestyle is the antithesis of the struggle apparent on the streets, having continual service becomes the ultimate life goal. I’ve never been a fan of doing what I’m told but such independence, as I enjoy, does not even exist, particularly for women. If the caste system were a scale, it would be completely linear, with dire conditions and exhaustive work on one end and immaculate conditions and minimal work on the other. The self-sufficient, independent, happily employed seems to be a tangent rarely achieved, again, particularly for women.

For each request I make, in regards to seeing the city, I am overwhelmed with the number of things we (Geeti and I) cannot do. I finally asked, “what does it mean that we cannot do something? Will we be harassed, denied, killed, what?” Geeti explained that it was socially inappropriate, that we might get strange looks and that we might make people uncomfortable. These consequences have very little affect on me – I’m fairly used to invading such social norms. However, this again seems to be the privilege that I exercise knowing that I have the rights and protection that I do. (not to mention my burly triceps) It’s difficult. This is not to be a complaint of my living condition, as I said, so many could only hope for such, just communicating my growing understanding of what oppression is as I see it: the opposite of choice and independence.

Hookah time

2005-06-04T16:09:00.000-04:00

Ghookah2
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

The intensity of the city and the overwhelming afternoon heat left us with only one solution: hookah.

A Cultural Intersection

2005-06-04T16:06:00.000-04:00

culturalconglomerate
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Here is a pedestrian intersection at the tibetan market. Tarped shops, men in suits, women in saris, skyrises in the back, homelessness along the sides, the inequity is apparent.

The market was a strange cross-cultural conglomerate, western aspirations breaking down cultural histories, all suffocated by poverty. This is Delhi. A metropolitan busting at the seams under globalisation.

The heartbreaking consciousness is hidden by the beautiful colors that Indians know so well.

Tibetan Market

2005-06-04T16:01:00.000-04:00

prettythings
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

We journeyed to the market today. Lined with shops full of jewelery, vases, bags, fabrics and wall hangings, the market was colorful and lovely.

Meet Geeti

2005-06-04T15:56:00.000-04:00

meetgeeti
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Geeti is my roommate with whom I will share most of my adventures. She is a special one, silly and witty. She appreciates my randomness and tendency for non-sequitor conversations. Her timidness balances my rebllion to our restrictions. Geeti has lived in the US for 5 years and is half way through her master's degree in liberal studies. Her hindi makes us less conspicuous but my whiteness still draws beggars, peddlers and all the rest.

Holy Cow

2005-06-03T14:42:00.000-04:00

Okay, so perhaps "holy cow" isn't so original, but it is true that cows just walk around in the streets and all over. To kill a cow is just as bad as to kill one's grandmother. I don't know if that says more about the status of cows or the status of women. But, hey, I support animal rights. I am staying in lovely house designed by SK Das, the architect for whom I am working. I have my own room and bathroom - it's rough (sarcasm). There have already been several blackouts. It's very nonchalant. The lights go out, everyone sits around and waits, the lights come back on. I slept most of the day but tomorrow we are headed to the Tibetan market.

I have arrived!

2005-06-02T21:34:00.000-04:00

I have arrived in Delhi unscathed. We are 9.5 hours ahead here. I am worn out from the various flights but all went relatively smoothly. I was a "chosen" to be frisked and nearly missed my flight in Chicago. I made it just in time (thanks to the delay). I have yet to see anything here in the daylight. I just wanted to report that I was here and alive.

Leaving in the Morning

2005-05-31T23:56:00.000-04:00

I'm currently taking the time to understand and navigate blogger.com. I leave for the airport in 9 hours. I will be travelling from Louisville to Chicago to Clevelend to London to Dubai to Delhi. I will arrive Friday morning. The travelling alone will likely be its own adventure. All of this ahead, and I here I sit... blogging and sending emails. Did I mention I haven't packed a single thing yet? Well, that will come. I shall post again in a few days and from here on out the messages will be more congruent.

Covington, Kentucky

2005-05-31T23:54:00.000-04:00

Covington
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

Another staple location, this is the back yard of the house in which I currently sit and my family has resided since I was born. This is the morning after my college graduation party and I seem in much better condition than I was. Cheers to my Lexington friends - Erica, Emily and Suz.

Washington Square Park, New York City

2005-05-31T23:44:00.000-04:00

washington square park
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

A location I frequent, Washington Square is a just a few blocks from school. Although overwhelmed by NYU students at times, the park generally offers music, demonstrations, and benches available for reading/writing/work or what have you.

San Andres, Guatemala

2005-05-30T16:44:00.000-04:00

IMG_0300
Originally uploaded by where in the world is katie.

The intent of this blog is to keep track of my adventures. That being said, I'll take a few looks back... This is the young girl who lived next to my host family in San Andres, Guatemala. I attended a community run eco-escuela, with the intent of Spanish fluency. Although such bilingualism was not achieved, the trip was incredible.