Muy Rico
My grandfather lives on the Upper East Side of Manhattan in the same tiny, vintage apartment that my mother grew up in. From the time that my grandmother passed away in 2016, an assortment of aides have moved into the apartment to care for him. One of his aides, a woman who immigrated to the United States from Colombia, once revealed to my sister that she tries to live her life as a series of rich moments — muy rico.
Reflecting on the past five weeks, my experience in India has been a series of incredibly rich moments. The challenges, frustrations, celebrations, and successes have all been so rich in feeling and emotion.
I’ve figured out that by viewing every moment — the good and the bad — as rich, I have been able to appreciate almost all of the moments in some way or another. Whatever those moments have to offer, at least they are rich in something. I guess this post can be considered an account of the rich moments I have experienced.
Green Rhinos: Youth Nature Leaders
Throughout the past several weeks, I worked with ASED and the other fellows to develop a Green Rhinos Program survey, create an informational pamphlet for the program, and record and compile interview footage from students participating in the program.
To complete these projects, Diti organized for the ASED fellows to visit six different schools involved with the Green Rhinos Program. We got a chance to hear from the students about the conservation-based projects they innovated, developed and executed during the program and also about the impact the program had on them and their communities.
One of the girls we interviewed at a local middle school talked about “the spirit of the Green Rhinos Program.” When we asked her to elaborate on what she meant by the spirit of the program, she said:
“The most important thing is that before joining the Green Rhinos Program we would tear leaves from the plants. We would throw away things like plastic and other non-biodegradable things without a second thought wherever we were. We didn’t care about the consequences. Even if we knew, we didn’t care about it. But after we joined the Green Rhinos Program . . . our students got to learn from the mentors and teachers and students like you . . . and they explained to us the importance of protecting the environment. That’s when we realized the consequences of our actions and realized that if we don’t stop, the earth won’t live for long. We won’t get to experience the actual beauty of the earth. From my personal experience, I feel that after coming to this Earth, if I cannot experience its beauty, then what will I do?”
The connection that these young girls feel to the Earth inspires me. Their passion, knowledge and curiosity amaze me. After spending time with them, I feel energized to return to the United States and affect environmental change within my community. Muy rico.
Cherrapunjee
This past weekend, we ventured to Cherrapunjee, one of the rainiest places on Earth, during the monsoon season. The day we arrived, we drove down a winding dirt road through a few small villages to a massive waterfall. Dana and I climbed up the rocks towards the source of the powerful and frigid water and swam in a pool at the top. Nick, Marialisa and Tess sat anxiously on the side watching us venture up the slippery rocks. They thought we were crazy. And I think they were right; we were crazy. But for me, I was seeking something greater than myself. I had accompanied Marialisa to church the past several weeks and learned more about Christian and Catholic traditions in the United States and in India. What she was seeking in the church, I was seeking in the waterfall — an unexplainable energy that fills my body with an overwhelming feeling of joy. Overcome by this energy, I yelled down at her, with my arms open and my face wet with the mist of the waterfall, “This is my church. This is what it’s all about for me!” We shared a smile, I licked the salty water off my lips, and then slowly climbed down the rocks, savoring every moment of the downclimb. Muy rico.
On the second day, we went for an eight-hour hike with a local guide named Ebernes. I showed up with my Tevas, rain jacket, rain pants, waterproof camera bag, and an extra change of dry clothes tucked at the bottom of my waterproof camera bag. Ebernes showed up with blue rubber flip flops, a pink and purple umbrella, and an Adidas windbreaker. Throughout the rainy hike, we crossed over root bridges, climbed up and down a set of over 2,000 steps, and learned about the different flora along the trail, including citrus trees and pineapples. At the end of the day, none of my gear mattered. Ebernes was relatively dry and climbing the steep staircase with ease, while the rest of us were soaked and crawling up the stairs slowly. Muy rico.
Ranu
Ranu is one of Diti’s employees who cleans our apartment every day. At first, she wasn’t too sure of the students living in the apartment. I think she assumed we were messy, spoiled Americans, which, when I think about it, wasn’t too far off from the truth. Anyways, throughout the past five weeks, Ranu and I slowly developed what I would consider to be a friendship. I came home the other day from the office for lunch as she was finishing up her work in the apartment. I asked her if she wanted to go for a walk around the neighborhood. Her English is somewhat limited and my Bengali is extremely limited, so I wasn’t sure if she had understood my question. She had. She quickly pulled me out of the apartment and guided me on a walk around the neighborhood. She offered to take me to her home and I happily agreed. She took my hand and held on tight as we crossed several busy streets and walked into her neighborhood. She showed me her home and introduced me to her mother. Her family of five lives in two small rooms that are only slightly larger than the queen-sized beds they fit. She sat me down on one of the beds and motioned for me to stay seated. She walked out and returned ten minutes later with a cold, fresh one litre bottle of “Thumbs Up” soda and one glass — she didn’t want any. We sat on the bed and shared short, simple details about our families and our work as I drank the soda. Muy rico.
Sunil and the printing shop
This past week, I finally completed my Green Rhinos Program informational pamphlet and it was ready to be printed. I was anticipating sending it over to a sort-of Kinkos-type place for printing. I would stick in my flash drive and within a few minutes, copies of my pamphlet, printed on shiny, smooth paper would be flying out of the printer and glistening under the fluorescent lights. I was wrong. Sunil, a quiet man who deals with ASED’s financial accounts, walked me around the corner from the office to a small shop selling cigarettes, soda, and printing services. There were two men behind the counter. The man who helped us print was older and wore a faded white tank top with a deep scoop neck. The printer was similar to the printer I used growing up — you have to manually insert and flip the pages when you want to double-side print. Each page took one and a half minutes to print in color. Three minutes per pamphlet. Twenty-five pamphlets. Add in the forty minutes that it took us to troubleshoot the sizing and orientation of the pamphlet and the five minutes Sunil spent bargaining with the man about the pricing and we were at a whopping two hours spent behind the tiny counter with Sunil and the two shop workers who didn’t speak English. I loved it. After our first successful pamphlet print, I taught Sunil and the other men how to high five. I held my hand up, pointed to Sunil’s hand, and motioned for us to hit them together. He gave me a gentle tap and they all laughed. At the moment I thought they were laughing with me, not at me, but now that I think about it, I’m not quite sure. Throughout the two hours, the three of us shared several smiles and jokes about the speed at which the pamphlets were printing. In the end, I thanked the three men in Bengali and wished Sunil a good weekend. Muy rico.
Until next week,
JJ
