The Taj Mahal

The excitement and anticipation had my mind filtering through thoughts faster than I could keep up. By 4:00 AM I realized I wasn't going to get any sleep. As I began my run, I felt the familiar firmness of the pavement beneath my feet. Soon I was lost in a memory of Mrs. Johnson's 4^th grade class. I was sitting in the left corner of my classroom at Challenger Elementary with my elbows propped on my desk staring at a projector screen. We were learning about the ‘7 Wonders of the World’ in geography, and that’s when I first saw it, the Taj Mahal. Its white domes, stunning spires and gothic arches had me awe struck. Mrs. Johnson told us about the legendary structure. I took in the ornate details, and my young mind thought of Aladdin and Agraba. I began to dream about far away places and I resolved that one day I would make my way to see the Taj Mahal along with the other 6 wonders. Looking back, I believe this is where it all began- my desire to travel and adventure to different worlds to see for myself what treasures and beauty are hidden in cultures other than my own.

We had left Vrindavan a couple hours back. Our coworker had given our driver instructions to take us straight to the Taj Mahal in order to get inside before they closed the entry gate. I had my heart set on not only going to see the Taj, but riding there in style…and by style I mean on top of a large gangly animal with a massive hump on its back and a neck like a slinky. I practically leapt into the little cart being pulled behind the massive camel I would soon learn was named Riju. I was ecstatic to see such an exotic animal outside of a zoo. With a little sweet-talking our guide agreed to let Lisa and I ride on top of this foreign creature. Excitedly I volunteered to go first. In fits of giggles I balanced myself and walked across the bar on the right hand side of the wooden saddle type structure. With a quick stride, I swung my leg over and grabbed onto the rope. Wow. Riju was much taller than I’d expected and his head was larger than my entire torso! As he began to move I laughed half out of fear and half out of excitement. You see, before this I was scared of even riding a horse, but after I had such a great time riding Riju riding a horse will be a piece of cake! He walked slowly, and with each step I moved up and down. He had some personality and at one point slinked his neck back to face me.

I decided to give him a pat on his head. His hair was coarse beneath my fingers and I became even more aware of his grand size when I noticed my hand was approximately the size of his eyeball.

We made it to the entry gate in about 10 minutes. Completely giddy, Lisa and I basically ran through the ‘ladies’ line towards the entrance and our volunteer ‘tour guide’ had to hurry to catch up (Note: I have ‘tour guide’ in quotations, because at every tourist attraction in India random guys will come up to you offering to take you on a tour for ‘a very good price’). Normally we never have these tour guides tag along, but this guy volunteered to take pictures for us and said we could pay him whatever we liked so we happily agreed.

We entered through the west gate and I caught my first glimpse of the Taj Mahal. I was breathless, and as I walked down the few steps onto the lawn I was just as enchanted as when I saw the photo on the projection screen so many years ago. We walked around the grounds and listened to all of the informative facts our guide spattered out. I’ve never taken more photos of a single structure before in my life or had as many cheesy tourist photos taken of me. I wanted to capture every single angle and detail of this moment on film. We saw the tombs of the notorious Mughal Emperor, Shah Jahan, and his wife he had built the Taj for, Mumtaz Mahal.

As I felt the cool white marble beneath my fingers and marveled at the fire red flowers  I blissfully soaked in the fact that my dream had become a reality. I didn’t want to be anywhere else at that moment, and I didn’t want to leave.

After a couple hours, the sun had gone down and our guide told us the guards would soon begin to usher everyone out. In order to avoid being stuck in the chaos, we made our way towards the exit. It was the cherry on top of my fantastic Indian adventure, and I relished the fact  that the adventure was not yet over. A smile as wide as the Grinch’s spread across my face when I gratefully thought of my parents. At a very young age my dad told me I could “do anything I set my mind to”. As I recollected this memory I was overcome with gratitude and a sense of fulfillment. The Taj Mahal had captured my heart…not only because it is undoubtedly a beautiful work of architecture, but also because it symbolically means so much more…to me it represents being able to accomplish my goals and holds future promises of adventure and cultural experiences. I left feeling completely blessed. It truly was an opportunity of a lifetime.

The Widows I Met in Vrindavan

“A woman is the full circle. Within her is the power to create, nurture and transform.” ~Diane Mariechild

Sunday night I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. Since my first week working for Maitri we have been trying to organize a trip to visit Maitri’s widows project in Vrindavan as well as Agra to see the Taj Mahal. Several times we’ve made arrangements that only fell through for various reasons, but finally the plans were set in stone and the car that would take us first to Vrindavan and then Agra would be at our apartment in 5 short hours.

 We reached Vrindavan around 9:00 am. The streets were already bustling due to a festival going on in honor of Krishna. Stands were scattered everywhere, where women, dressed in brightly colored saris, and their children sat on top of wooden planks stringing bright orange flowers into necklaces. We slowly made our way through traffic to Maitri’s center where the widows stay. At first the place looked completely empty, just a large concrete building with cut out open windows and doors. Laundry hung in between the columns and monkeys played near by on top of a concrete fence. As we approached a younger woman came out, wearing a black and white kurta with her hair in a bun. Her smile was warm, and after a few words with my coworker, Anita, she led us into one of the rooms where the women sleep. Immediately I felt like I had 10 new grandmothers! Each woman approached us, smiling so sweetly, they pinched my cheeks, hugged me, kissed my cheeks and one woman even braided my hair.

 

 After visiting for a little while, we left the center to go and see Maitri’s plot of land where they will be building their Aging Resource Center. Once it is completed they will provide housing and vocational training for 200 widows. Afterwards we visited an ashram where 70 widows stay. At this particular ashram they were not only feeding the widows who stayed there, but are accepting of others who stop in. Near the doorway were 3 small children who were also given food. I assume it was a young girl and her baby sister and toddler brother. The young girl smiled up at me with fire in her eyes and ushered her small brother to waive and look at me. She showed me her baby sister and laughed as she picked up her small hand. I wanted to sit and eat with them, but just as soon as we got there we were being directed to continue on our journey.

 

 It was mealtime when we returned back to Maitri’s Center. The widows sat in 4 lines, barefoot and cross-legged on the floor with their sectioned metal plates before them. Three of the women scooted large metal containers full of rice, curry and some other Indian dish. They heaped piles on each of the widow’s plates. They dug in, and I was amazed at the quantity of food their tiny frail bodies were able to hold. I was able to help distribute the bananas once they were close to finishing their main course. As I placed each banana into the warm hands of the recipient I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and happiness.

 

 It made me smile knowing that they are all well fed, and I enjoyed watching them chat and laugh as they ate. While I watched I realized India’s Holy Cities are set apart from other areas because they are places of gathering. I remembered a quote from Maitri’s website about widows.. that they “face a triple jeopardy: that of being old, of being women, and of being poor”. These beautiful women, who have spent their lives being wives, mothers, and grandmothers, escape situations of torment and abuse. They are often abandoned by their own families, have their homes and lands taken from them (even by their own children), and are viewed as “cursed” because their husbands passed before them and are therefore ostracized and cast out from society. I knew they were at Maitri’s center because they had nowhere else to go. At a first glance, their living conditions may look bleak, but as I walked around the center and sat on their beds as they proudly showed me their few belongings, smiled for photos, and sat eating together, all I felt was warmth and a sense of belonging. As our car pulled away I realized that I didn’t want to dwell on their pasts….I wanted to focus on the hope and life they have found in Vrindavan. Like leather, the wear of life's struggles and experiences has left them softer, more aware of the world and compassionate to those in it, and that with age they have only become more beautiful.

 

 They have found refuge in Vrandavan…safety in its Ashrams…comfort and solace among its people. Ultimately, they have found family and community in a place where they can love and be loved in return.

It's Real

All of it is real. It isn’t just something I read about anymore; there are real problems in this world. It’s my friends.  It’s my co-workers. It’s the children I tutor.  It’s my housekeeper.  It’s my neighbors.

Women come into Maitri daily to seek help for abuse they’ve suffered; the children I tutor are way too skinny; the families I walk past on the way to work are living underneath highway overpasses; the children that stop my auto rickshaw to beg for money dig through the garbage piles for food.  The “real” world is pressing down on me everywhere I turn.  My smallness and inability to do anything significant is pressing down even harder.

It was a nice bubble that I lived in.  Hearing and reading about the problems of the world, but still getting to retreat into my secluded, safe space.  Yes, it’s comfortable to be ignorant and unaffected, but is that really a good way to live?  While people were suffering around the world, I was reading their stories from the comfort of my large, clean home or researching their problems in a university classroom (and I didn't have to walk miles to it or fear for my life while at school).

I can choose who I want to marry. What I want to do.  Where I want to live.  How I want to be treated.  Where I want to go.  These choices used to be classified as “rights” in my mind; however, I am now realizing that they are privileges that so many women in the world do not enjoy.  I am not going to waste these privileges that I have been given—if I am lucky enough to have options, I am going to make the best decisions possible.  I do not have to fight for myself, but I will fight for others because it is wrong that so many girls throughout the world do not even know that there are other options.  It is wrong that a girl was shot in the head for trying to go to school.  It is wrong that 67 million children do not go to school, and more than half of them are girls.  It is wrong that 7 in 10 women around the world are victims of physical and/or sexual violence during their lifetimes.  It is wrong that 14 million girls are married before age 18 each year. It is wrong that medical complications during pregnancy and childbirth are the leading cause of death in women age 15-19.  It is wrong that around 3 million girls each year are victims of genital mutilation or cutting.

If any of these facts make your blood boil, like they do mine, then we must take action.  Knowledge brings responsibility.  I am lucky to be working for an organization that is taking action--and I'm even luckier that Maitri is letting me see these problems and work on them, too.  We cannot sit idly by while, around the world, these very real problems are affecting very real people.