India Uncensored...

Hey everyone,

I really appreciate you following my stories and my bull. If there is something that you would like me to elaborate on more, drop me a line or a comment and I'll see what I can do. The following is the email I sent out a while ago to keep everyone in the loop while I was in the hospital in Benares, and I thought I could 'store' it here for future use.
I hope this finds you well,
Craig Leon Koller
क्रैग लीआन कोल्लर

Hey everyone,

I just though I would send out an all encompassing email that covers my trip thus far. Let me tell you, it has been quite an adventure. Having arrived in New Delhi two weeks ago today, I was jet-lagged but positive. I was staying in a nice hotel, in a community known as the Defence Colony. Delhi, if I may say so, with out any filtering, is an absolute shit-hole. There are people living in the streets next to cattle, swine, and dogs. The living conditions are quite atrocious. Yet, right next to these people's ramshackle housing is a skyscraper for some multinational corporation, with security guards and Landrovers. The polarity here is very obvious. I walked to a Bahai Temple (very interesting faith, everyone should at least take a gander at their message) and in going there, you see that India's people have no care for their trash or their waste. The streets are littered with trash. They assume that it will be taken care of for them, but I do not know why they assume this, (maybe I should use that as a field research project). You ride in an auto-rickshaw, and you see men lined up on the side of the street pissing. That same auto-rickshaw stops at a light, (kind of rare in Indian traffic), and two young girls, maybe 6 or 7 years of age come up begging for money for food. I had to look away, as I saw the tattoo on their hand. This is no ordinary tattoo, but a brand. a brand used by their "boss" or street pimp to squeeze money from foreign tourists by using their pity. I cannot support a trade like that, even if it hurts my soul.
We stayed in New Delhi for 5 days, waiting for everyone to arrive and get over the jet-lag. We then arrived took an overnight train, quite an experience, to the city where I'd be staying for the next 8-9 months. The mysterious and spiritual "Benares." We arrive, greeted by my hindi Instructor who puts some style of Indian leis. The temperature was only about 94ºF, but the humidity was about the same. If you can imagine walking through water, then you have a general idea. Me, be the human-packhorse that I am, was carrying a few peoples bags, so that we didn't have to drop money on porters (they tend to be hard bargainers, and you never know if you'll get all of your stuff back). We stayed in a hotel for the next few days getting our home-stays organized, and also getting acquainted with our Program house. This program house has one room with AC in it, and we all pretty much just stayed in that room for the week, trying to stay hydrated and not get diarrhea from the food. We took a few tours through the city, seeing some of the infamous ghats and other market places. I've even found weekly cricket and soccer matches that I can play in (THANK GOD!!!) at the local college campus.
I found a "home-stay." It is in a house with an older Brahmin lady from Delhi. She has family that lives in the US and has been housing UW-Madison students for many years. Her mother is 101 years old and is living with us, in the house that she has her entire life, why change now? I live with a few other students from the program. I don't know why, but I've really pulled myself back from the Islamic studies aspect. Something about it didn't seem right once I arrived, I couldn't tell you what, but it was something spiritual, I feel. I have been recently pulled in many different directions regarding my field studies, and I don't know what to follow. I will just live here for a while, before I make any serious decisions.
On Tuesday night, this last week, I went to an Indian dance show. Quite an amazing experience. I had been feeling good up to this point and I was ready to start my Hindi instruction the next day, as well as a yoga course. After the dancing was done, a few of us sat down for dinner at a nice local restaurant. I needed some food that wasn't so spicy, so I ordered some basic noodles. After about halfway through the meal, my stomach started getting upset, and I had to excuse myself from the table. I went to the bathroom and proceeded to vomit up all that I had just eaten. When that food was up, I started puking up blood. This really scared me at first, but the nausea went away after a few minutes, and I got up and went back to the table. I told my friends what happened, a few said I should go to the doctor, and a few said that it should be okay, as long as I didn't keep throwing up. I did feel much better after sicking up, but I wasn't really up for finishing the meal, so I went home and went to bed. At this point in the trip every single student had been sick in one way shape or form.
The next day I got up and still felt a little queazy, but not too bad, so I went to my yoga instruction and felt much better. I had breakfast at the Program house and went to my class. I started feeling ill again, and after about two hours of class, I went a laid down in one the side rooms of the house. I slept for three hours. After this I got up and went down stairs to get some water. I sat down in the AC'd room and my stomach started feeling sick again. I went to the bathroom and sicked-up all of the porridge, with a lot of blood this time. This really startled me, and I told my professor to call a doctor. They called an auto-rickshaw instead....lmao. Throughout this, I still maintained my jolly spirit, even though I felt terrible (nothing can bring this guy down). I went to a local private hospital (at the the recommendation of my Professor), and had some tests done. They took some blood, only after I made sure they were using new needles, and said that the results would be ready by the evening. They tested me for malaria, they tested my liver for problems, the tested my white blood cells, and they tested me for Dengue Fever. I returned to the hospital later that evening, still feeling quite ill, but with high spirits, it had to be the Norwegian heritage, laughing in the face of danger and death. I had to wait for the doctor to arrive about an hour later... This is INDIA everything runs late! The doctor took a look through my results [which I took a look through earlier at the clerks desk. I saw that I was negative for Malaria and Dengue, but that some of my other numbers were outside of the normal boundaries.... Spending as much time in a doctor's office/hospital as I have you begin to be able to read tests/diagnostics and things]. The doctor then took my temperature (102ºF), for the first time, and told me that my Blood Platelets were low and that we wanted to admit me to the hospital. He told me that I most likely had some strain of Dengue fever and I had some hemorrhaging somewhere. He said I would need to be hospitalized for 3 days to be monitored. This was Wednesday evening.
I spent Thursday and Friday in the hospital reading some books, thanks to some friends from the program who brought them over for me. They were pumping me full of Electrolytes and Anti-Viral antibodies. I could tell that my fever had come down on Thursday, but I still felt relatively tired and week. The Doctor visited me later that night and said I could most likely get out of the hospital by Friday afternoon. This entire time, people from all over the hospital wing were coming in and out, poking their head in or just staring from the behind the curtains. They had to come and look at the foreigner in the Indian hospital. The hospital was quite clean, my India's standards, and the staff were as helpful as could be. (The first night for dinner they brought me Lays potato chips and orange cream cookies, only in India). All in all, I had quite a little adventure, and I got to checkout of the hospital Friday night without any major obstacles. The entire bill totaled about 12,000 rupees, which in USD is only about $300. If I were in a US hospital it would have most likely cost $12,000!!!! I told this to some of the patrons and staff in the hospital and they were flabbergasted (If you are interested in the price differentiation, look into the what is known as "Medical-Tourism" in India).
So here I sit in "Open Hand Cafe" run by a lady from South Africa, very sweet. They have western coffee, food, and wifi. This will be my little escape from India, for the next few months. I leave, a week from Monday for an old British Hill Station, known as Masoori. I will be up there for two weeks, and I don't know what kind of contact I'll have but it might be limited. I feel good, I have high spirits and am staying positive. Thank you for all of the well wishing and the love. Please feel free to email me anytime with questions or concerns, and I will get back to you as soon as I can.

Love always,
Craig
P.S. Feel free to pass this on...

Mussoorie, by photo...

Waiting for the van that didn't come...

The view from our patio

Going for a walk

Always looking for adventure

The bottomless pit of garbage and fecal matter, actually a clean view in most Indian standards.

More walking...

Some Manual Labor... About Time!!!!

For those of you who say I have no soul... I beg to differ... so does this picture!

Sunset in Landour-Mussoorie

Even Jesus is in India, and his view is amazing! :-)

I could definitely live here...

The hills and the rain!

The Next Chapter: Mussoorie

The 24-hour train ride progressed smoothly, with only minor delays here or there, but for India not so bad. We arrived in the city of Dehradun on Tuesday morning on schedule, but when we arrived it was discovered that the bus/van we had expected to pick us up was not to be found. Our program director went and found us a trio of taxis to haul us up the one and a half hour ride to Mussoorie. 

The pleasure of arriving in a city where the temperature was cool and damp cannot be over exaggerated here. Having spent three weeks on what one of my program mates termed as the “Hot Dusty Plains” of India, it was simply one of the most refreshing moments I have had in a long time. This city we came into appeared to be in a different India. With the large hills, or what we would call mountains in the US, surrounding us on the East and West, it was hard to imagine another I had seen in this country that was quite as beautiful. 

On the taxi ride up, I not only had to listen to one of my classmates calling out, “OH MY GOD, THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL,” over and over the entire car ride to no avail, but we had to pull the taxi over so that my Hindi professor could throw up out over his shoulder out the passenger side window (on the left in India). The sounds this 60 some odd year old heavyset Indian man made, should never be replicated... Ever! After the queasiness of the car ride, and the thoughts of strangling my classmate, I found myself in the city of Mussoorie. 

Quaintly located on the side of an hill range at the foot of the Himalayas, this city is by far the cleanliest place in India I’ve yet to encounter. Staying at the hotel Shiva Continental with a fantastic view of the valley, I have been able to travel the local bazaars and practice my Hindi with the local shopkeepers. In Mussoorie, as compared to Benares, the silence is almost deafening.  Shopkeepers are not yelling out to you hawking their wares. 

.... After a few more days in Mussoorie, I still enjoy it ever so much, but I have once again come down with Diarrhea and stomach cramps. Ugh... It is like India takes you one step closer to falling in love with her, and then she takes a huge shit on you.... I couldn’t come up with another way to state that, but it comes close to the truth. Hopefully I will soon start to get used to the food here and stop getting sick, because it really is not fun.

After feeling a little bit better this morning, Saturday the 18th, I finally decided to get my haircut. The young man that cut my hair must have been about 20. He did a fantastic job on the cut as well as the shave, and all of this was all under $2.50 USD. However, when I go to a western styled cafe later, called Cafe Coffee Day, I find that the seat I have chosen, above it, there is a leak in sealing... Kind of amusing. 

On Thursday my friends and I went for a walk. We got to see a lot of amazing things. On this walk we saw, for the first time, the magnitude of the area we are in (pictures to come soon!!! I promise). Absolutely amazing! We went to a look out and, even with moderate cloud cover, were able to see other hill tops that are at least 100 km away. I also saw some street puppies who were living underneath some plastic and wood, mother pooch no where in sight. A little bit up the road I helped this gentlemen cut some firewood. The first real physical labor I have been able to do here, and I hope I can find some more to do as well. I miss cutting wood, or building stuff, (like bookshelves that roommates don’t want) or shoveling my sidewalk. I will have to make a trip this year if I actually want to see snow... :’( 

The allure of physical labor in a nation that won’t let me change my own bed is quite overwhelming. In fact, I hate the idea of riding in a cycle rickshaw, but how else would that man make money? I hate having some other person do my laundry, but how else would she support her family with a disabled husband? These are things that I have only begun to cope with, and it will be an uphill struggle. 

Well, it has been raining for 24 hours now. Kind of dreary, and makes me want to curl up with a good book, so I think I will. Take care! Pictures to come later today.

~Craig L. Koller

A festival, new friends, and some mischief!

        Well, it has been a very fruitful few days. I feel as if I have finally come to enjoy India. This last weekend I met a pair of travelers from Germany. Their names are Simone and Sebastian, and they have been traveling their entire holiday (3-4 months long!!!). Well, we shopped along Deshdwamedha Ghat in Benares. We had plans to meet up with my friends a little later to watch a ceremony along the Ghat near my home, Assi Ghat. Having failed to connect with my friends, we decided to continue on to the ceremony with them. This ceremony is performed every night along a few of the ghats in the city. Everyone lines up as the young priest repeats a prayer, if I'm not mistaken, which thanks the Ganga for life or some such holy reason. Everyone was then handed flower pedals to put into the river and push them into its current. Following this ceremony, there was a little snack (like one piece of grain) provided for each person involved with the ceremony. However, being the type who does not want to further aggravate one’s stomach, I decided to pass on the communal offering. 

       After having partaken in my first Hindu ceremony, my new found friends and I went to a local restaurant that has phenomenal hindustani food. We sat and ate this dinner where the cost, in USD, was about $10, FOR ALL 3 OF US!!! After dinner we decided to have a few drinks... We went to this hole in the wall “British Wine Shop” and procured a few Indian Kingfisher beers about twice the size of us beers, and twice as potent. Having headed back to my place, sat back and chilled in my common room, we chatted for a few hours. When my friend/housemate Will, decided to join us we discovered that we had been locked IN our house... The not only locked the front door, with a padlock, from the inside, but they locked the main gate with a huge padlock. My new made friends found themselves as prisoners in my new humble abode. In this Indian style home their is a courtyard surrounded by the house. If you can try to imagine a square house with a hole in the middle for a small open garden area. After a few looks of concern between my guests, I broke it to them that we had a chance to be a bit rebellious. Typically throughout the house the windows are barred so that no one/nothing can get in. Feeling a bit oppressed with this, I had already found a way around this little hiccough. Being the resourceful young fellow that I am,   I paid close attention to my rooms windows when I picked it. The bathroom window’s gate ended up being broken and it was able to swing open. Opening along the side of the house my friends and I, feeling as if we were young teenagers escaping our parents’ tyrannical curfew limits, we booked out the window, climbed the wall and the landed safely in the Indian street at 1:30AM Monday morning. 

Early in the day I had heard of another festival/ceremony taking place in the city. This religious ritual involves the fertility rights of Hindu couples. When an Indian couple is having difficulties getting pregnant, they come to Benares and perform this ritual. The couple, coming to this certain well in Benares, about a quarter mile from the river, walk down the stairs into this 100 ft. deep well. They come down to the water and dunk themselves a few times, washing away their old life. They leave their old clothes and any belongings with which they were wearing behind, next to the well. 

This cleansing symbolizes the beginning of the new life they have just been birthed from. These couples not only sacrifice their material belongings, but their symbolical ones as well. Having started a new life, they discard their old wedding vows, thus having to be remarried at a later date. This must not be an easy decision to come to. One of my professors later told me that these couples are pressured by their family, especially by the woman’s mother, to bear children, and that they may have to caste off their old lives and perform this ritual. 

At the same time that this festival occurs, many women who have previously performed this ritual (successfully) return with the child they had born, and they bathe that child in the Ganges as well as back in the well, but only after shaving the young ones head completely bald. 

You may find yourself asking the question, Well Craig, why in the hell is this all so important to the story you were telling me? The answer to that lies in what we found in the streets when were were wandering them at 2 in the morning, the night before I leave for two weeks. We began to see that the streets were not dead as we had once expected, but after passing a police check point, that had never been there before, we began to see hundreds and hundreds of people lined along the street. Well, we decided to take a closer look, so we walked to the ghat, named Tulsi Ghat, where the woman bathe their new born child in the Ganges. This normally peaceful ghat, which has an occasional worshipper and a passing goat or two, was completely filled with people. We continued to wonder down the small alleyway, toward the Well we had seen earlier. A normally 3 minute walk took us about 10 minutes, as the alleyway was jam packed with people sleeping along it, awaiting their turn to bathe. When we finally reached the temple, we saw a few thousand people lined up ready to enter the well. Remember, it is 2AM on a Monday morning. We entered the temple to get a better view of what was going on, being sure not to do anything disrespectful, we got a front row view of the beginning of this wonderful ceremony. No more than 2 minutes after we got a view of the well, from within this Hindu temple, we heard bells ringing on the other side of the well. They opened the gates and people began to pour down the steps and dunk themselves into the water, performing all the above mentioned requirements. This was a simply mesmerizing experience. We were the only white (‘western’ what have you) people that I saw the entire night, so I felt extremely privileged to have a front row seat to this important festival.

After watching this for a while, we decided to was time to take our leave, and we headed to Simone and Sebastian’s hostel room. We went up on their roof and chatted about what had happened or about anything else that struck up in our minds. I sat on this tall building in Benares at 3AM, for the first time mesmerized, not disgusted. Intrigued not perturbed. Excited and ready to seek out new adventure in this wonderful city. 

Heading back to our apartment, after saying the goodbyes to my new friends and getting back into our house through those unconventional means, I began to pack for my trip to Mussoorie. The train left in less than 3 hours and I hadn’t even begun to pack yet. Moving at half speed, I got my stuff packed in an hour, and caught about an hour of shuteye before I forced myself up and went down to the hotel to meet for the taxi that would take me to the train station. Having had my first good adventure in Benares, let alone in India, I left on a 24 hour train ride for a new adventure: The foothills of the Himalayas. But that story is for another day.

Mussoorie... Diarrhea... and my schedule...

I've had diarrhea for a week now. I finally decided to take an antibiotic prescribed by my doctor in the states. We'll see if it works or not.

I leave Monday morning for the city of Mussoorie in Himachal Pradesh, north of Delhi. We are going on a language retreat and will be there for two weeks. It is less a retreat for language and more of a retreat from the heat here in Benaras. Daily the temperatures are in the mid 90's with humidity about the same. Just imagine walking through really heavy air, and you can get the idea.

Mussoorie is supposedly in one of the most beautiful areas of India. At the foot hills of the himalayas, this former British Hill Station, will give me a much needed break from the bustling city life. I have not found too difficult to cope with the insane amount of external stimuli, but nonetheless it does get on my nerves once in a while being howled for a rickshaw here or from a shop there. All because I am a white "tourist." I feel that people are beginning to recognize me in my neighborhood and are hounding me less, plus being able to tell people in hindi that I am not interested is a big bonus. They seem to respect me more for it and leave me alone.

I am undecided about what to pursue regarding my anthropological field research project. I have changed my mind about a dozen times already and will most likely change it a dozen more. I just find it extremely difficult to find any semblance of 'base' here. I haven't been able to see much of the city yet. Monday thru Friday a have yoga at 7am and from there I head to my 4 hour hindi class (9-1). After class we have lunch at the program house. At this point in the day, it is the hottest, and I try to remain in doors to avoid over exertion. At around 5pm I head home and organize my notes, then head to my local cafe to complete the homework assigned. I then go out for dinner at some local restaurants, usually for some non-spiced up food. My stomach is still really upset, kind of shitty, if you catch my drift. This schedule rarely leaves time for any traveling within the city.

When we get back to Benaras in early October, I will be able to see more as I will only have class from three days a week for 3 hours. This shortened schedule will allow me some more time run around the city and begin to experience Benaras for what it is known for.

"The Hard Way..."

This will be the first post, probably of only a few. Knowing my track record for keeping up to date upon journal entries, online personals (facebook, myspace, etc...)  this may not be the best way to follow my personal escapades. However, I will use this as my outlet for personal thoughts, feelings, and overall experiences. Please feel free to contact me with any questions, comments, or concerns and I will gladly provide feedback in a reasonable amount of time.