Outreach...finally!!!!

Well, I can sure tell that the people of this country are going to pull at my heartstrings. There is so much need here, and it makes you want to help everybody. But of course it's just not possible..

I am happy to report that I was finally able to go out with the social workers today. Those of you who know how excited I can get about something can imagine the big smile on my face as we headed out :)

There are 3 social workers with the project, all male, which caught me by surprise, as back home most social workers are women, so I expected the same here in Guatemala. As I headed out with one of them, Marcos, I commented on this difference, to which he responded that in Guatemala most social workers are male, because the work is "duro" (hard). As you can imagine, I bit my tongue reaaaal hard after that comment. He went on to explain that a big part of their job is outreach and that it can be dangerous. They can be assaulted or robbed, and some places they go are quite remote so it would be very dangerous for women, especially given that they do outreach on their own. Marcos shared this information as we were about to head out and I'm pretty sure the other volunteer with us was pretty freaked out after hearing what could happen. Me rather? I was like "right on, let's go!!" I know, I know, I'm crazy....

We caught a bus for Alotenango, about 20 minutes from Antigua. On the way I asked Marcos questions about the work, the families, issues etc. Incredibly, he has 216 families on his caseload, and whom he has to visit twice every 3 months. Well I'm pretty sure the Manitoba government set the standards here as well, because there is no way these social workers can see all those families as often as they are supposed to, especially given they live all over God's Green Acre!

Just like we often do at CFS, they conduct "surprise visits" with there being a real focus on ensuring that families keep their homes clean. He explained that there is a mentality here that when you are poor, you are also unclean, and that the project is trying to change that thought. Apart from just checking in they often end up trying to help families with the various problems they are struggling with as well.

The purpose of the visits today though was to look for families who are in desperate need of houses. As I have mentioned the project builds lots of houses, over a thousand so far. There are at least two teams here right now who have built about 7 houses this week alone. Any volunteers I have talked to have spoken very highly of their experience. The families, including the children, help build the house, and are extremely grateful. Despite the fact that I am lazy and can't imagine the physical labour of it, it does sound like an amazing and rewarding experience. Who knows I may try one day.

We arrived in the beautiful town of Alotenango where there is a perfect view of 2 out of 3 of the volcanoes that overlook the area. It always seems that the most beautiful places have the poorest people. And from what I am told, this town is one of the poorest around Antigua as it is primarily indigenous, which translates to people with less education and as a result fewer work opportunities.

Upon our arrival two families were waiting for us at the church. They had come to the project in Antigua to enquire about a house and as a result we were there to see where they lived and if they truly needed a house. The first was a single mother with 3 young children. Although I didn't ask her too many questions I was curious about her situation as her father in law was accompanying her, and lived on the same land, yet she was single parenting. Her house was very basic (walls and roof made of tin with a dirt floor), but it looked clean, organized and was actually pretty nice. As I looked around I was thinking that this family didn't really need a house and so was happy to hear Marcos say after that he felt the same. It became obvious though that he didn't have the ability to give people the bad news and rather would tell them that there was an issue with the land and that an engineer would come and let them know for sure.

After that visit, people kept coming out of nowhere, and we developed quite a crowd, everyone wanting us to come and see their house in hopes of getting a new one. I'm sure Marcos feels like quite a King when he is in this situation as he holds a lot of power over the destinies of these people.

We then went to see another house, which was a compound of several houses for one big family. The grandparents were in one house, while their adult sons/daughters were in others with their children. The project focuses on those with the greatest need such as families living in houses made of cardboard, as an example. They also have to have small children. So the grandparents' home was not an option, but one of the daughter's homes was. This house was made of maize (corn) branches, all different lengths and so there was quite a gap between the walls and the tin roof. So you can imagine what it would be like when it rains, or for keeping out the cold. It was one big room, with a dirt floor, a couple beds, dressers, a table, and just "stuff." There are 5 children and 2 adults in this family. Given the number of people and how primitive it was, Marcos took an application with the help of the 13 year old, as her parents were both working. This girl said that they were likely not going to start school next week as there was no money for the things they needed to attend. In Guatemala there are "free" public schools but parents still have to pay for school supplies, uniforms etc. and many cannot afford them, which means that the children don't go to school. This of course just contributes to the poverty issue as the cycle repeats itself.

There had been a lady with us from the beginning, carrying an infant in a traditional blanket which all the indigenous women have tied around them. They use them to carry their young children, or anything else they need to carry. She walked with us to the other houses, patiently waiting her turn. As we eventually walked to her place I was able to ask her come questions during which she shared that she was a widow with 5 children. I didn't ask what happened to her husband, despite really wanting to know. Given the baby was so young, I suspected that her husband's death was not long ago. She was pretty closed but did tell me that her parents were deceased and that she pretty much had no family except her aunt whom she lived with, along with her 5 children (ranging from 6th grade to the infant). Because the baby was so young she couldn't work full time yet, but was able to do a bit of ironing for people which provided enough for them to eat at least. After the baby is a bit older she plans to look for work, likely in one of the coffee plantations, as the area is a big coffee area. So life is pretty tough for her to say the least. She had seen the project's blue houses in town and had come to Antigua to get more information. Her hope was that the project could build her a house on a plot of land that she had inherited from her parents. Well we walked, and we walked, and it was so far to reach. She was apologetic for it being such a long walk and was worried that because it was so far that the project wouldn't help her.

As soon as we arrived, we could hear that that there was a river nearby. And just like that her hopes were dashed, as Marcos explained that they couldn't build houses close to a river as the material they used (which sounds like fibreglass), is not strong enough to stop a house from sliding downhill when there is a lot of precipitation. In rainy season this is a real possibility. So due to the risky location it was not possible. Well the look on her face was heartbreaking. You could tell that she was so hopeful and to realize that there would be no house..well, it was clearly devastating. Marcos seemed uncomfortable with her reaction and again tried to avoid the inevitable by saying he would see what the engineer said. He had explained that it was his job to ensure the need was there and to get the family's information, after which an engineer would come to ensure there was enough space, it was safe to build etc. Judging from her expression I don't think the lady really believed that it may still be possible though. She walked back with us, and looked so sad, it was hard to see. I felt someone needed to be the social worker in the situation and show her some empathy so acknowledged that she must be disappointed. She responded that she was sad and was fighting back tears. I told her that I felt bad for her and was fighting back tears as well. I suggested other options (different material, selling etc) to which she explained that a house made of stone, which would be more secure, would cost 10 million quetzales ($1200). There is clearly no way she would ever have that kind of money. She said as well that she couldn't sell the property as she would get almost nothing for it. So I don't know what she will do. My mind was racing on how I could help get her a house, but the sad thing is that there are so many more like her...We continued on, and she stopped to talk to some others. I didn't get a chance to even say take care and good luck but sure hope for the best for her and her children.

The people from the first houses continued walking with us and when we went into someone else's house, they came in with us which I found strange and intrusive. My guess is that they were checking out their competition :) There was also a German volunteer with us for the day, and all she did was take pictures, which annoyed me, as I thought that was really intrusive as well. But I imagine that there have been tons of volunteers before me, and tons after, that will do the same. I myself, am not here for the photo opps, but rather to learn about the people, try and talk with them and understand as much as possible. I was so thankful that I was having a good Spanish day (as there are good and bad days) as I could understand a lot, as well as communicate well with the people. It makes such a difference!

As we were walking (and by this time it was hours!) in the hot sun, along dusty roads, people continued to come up to us asking questions and wanting us to come and see their houses. As well Marcos asked us to keep our eyes out for homes in bad shape. There were a few that he just knocked at, and that we checked, but none were that bad.

The last house we saw though was a very needy family. It was a two parent family with 5 children in a one room house, the walls were made of the maize with there being a big gap to the outside. There was one bed for the parents and one double bed for the 5 children, which was not in great shape. Compared to the others, which by no means were stellar, this one was the most impoverished. While the mother completed the application she shared that her husband works in Guatemala City and earns 700 quetzales per month, which is $80. For 7 people. My goodness. I imagine those kids are not going to school either as how can 7 people live on that?

Finally we finished, later than we were supposed to, and having to put people off until the next time. I was so dirty and exhausted but exhilarated by the experience. This is exactly what I was hoping for in coming to work for this project. And tomorrow will be a new day visiting more families, learning and experiencing even more. I can't wait!!

Early volunteer experiences-Guatemala

I think I understand the feeling writers, musicians, or artists get when something inspires them to create. When the urge comes, everything flows so easily.

My first post was a summary of my Central America G Adventures tour, which to be honest was more of a chore to write, rather than something that came naturally. I'm glad I did it though, as it will be great to read in the future. Plus I hope at least some of you enjoyed it! But tonight, I have a true urge to share my experience from this very evening. Before I start though, I will share a bit of background on the volunteer project and my experience so far.

A couple years ago I found an organization in Antigua, Guatemala, called Nuestros Ahijados. They work with the poorest of children and families, taking a holistic approach of providing not only education, but as well housing, medical/dental care, social work/psychological support etc. In addition, they have a children's hospital, homeless shelter, food bank and probably more that I don't even know about yet. I almost came to Guatemala at that time as the project really interested me, but I chose to go to India instead. Well this year I revisited the project again and decided to give it a try. I was most interested in doing outreach with the social workers as well as working in the homeless shelter. I applied, got cleared, and that was the plan; social work outreach and the homeless shelter. I was also told that given my social work skills, and depending on my Spanish level, I could perhaps get involved in other ways once there.

The first day of volunteering I thought I would get an orientation, but the staff were in meetings so instead I got a tour of Casa Jackson, the project's hospital for sick children. My guide, Gladys, suggested that I help out there until she was free that afternoon. Those of you who know me well could probably guess what I was thinking about that idea! So I bravely told her that I don't like kids, after which I am sure she thought I was a real piece of work! But she simply responded that I could clean or help out in the kitchen instead. Great.

It was a pretty simple "hospital" with 13 children, mostly infants to perhaps 3 years old. It was explained that most were there due to malnutrition, at times being due to the parents not being able to provide for them, and other times due to medical problems. Some had been there before with the same issues, some were healthy and ready to go home but the parents had not come back to get them, and others had parents there diligently caring for them. So it was a real mixed bag, but the commonality seemed to be the issue of malnutrition, and health/development issues as a result. We got to see all of the children, and the littlest ones, the sickest, looked much younger than they actually were. After the tour I left the children with the other volunteers and nurses, and was put to work washing down the kitchen cabinets, sweeping etc. I'm sure my Mother will laugh reading this part as she knows I hate cleaning...well that's what a stellar volunteer I am :) Although not a place I would be interested in volunteering, I think it was important to see the impact of the social issues here, poverty being a major one. The lady that I currently live with explained that the cost of living in Guatemala has gone up but the salaries have not, which has made life very expensive and difficult for Guatemalans. Milk in particular is very expensive as they don't produce much here. As a result parents can't afford to give it to their children which of course does not aid in their development. Especially in the poorer, rural areas, parents will give children rice instead of milk, which doesn't offer much for nutrition. Hence the need for Casa Jackson.

After a morning there, I went back to my homestay for lunch and then back again for my orientation. Well it turns out Gladys had a meeting in the afternoon as well so she asked me if I would mind doing some translating. "Padrinos" (meaning Godparent but for the project it means sponsor), had sent Xmas cards to the children they are sponsoring and they needed to be translated to Spanish so they could be read to the children. I'm not sure what Gladys was hearing from my Spanish but I certainly didn't feel confident enough to translate..who knows what those poor, innocent children would have been read if so! Instead I went through a big Fedex box of Xmas cards and made a list of the padrinos and children, and blocked out their addresses in the US (to prevent stalking I suppose). Flipping through the cards was interesting; the padrinos are clearly very religious people. Lots of religious themed cards and messages like "we're praying for you," "it's because of Jesus that there is Christmas" yada yada. One 74 year old man told his child about the poor Indian children living on reserves in the US and how they too get education provided. He asked his child to pray for them. Good Lord! These Americans are clearly generous to be sponsoring these children and they make many things possible for them and their families (free schooling, houses built, free medical care, food bank etc) but I couldn't help but think that these kids would have probably preferred getting a colourful, child oriented Xmas card rather than something my Grandma would have sent me. Anyway, it was an interesting side of the organization to see. So far it is looking like the project is pretty straight up. I have unfortunately been tainted from other volunteer experiences so am always on the lookout for fishy things. Hopefully I won't find anything of the sort this time.

Later in the day I finally got a tour around the project, which I have to admit based on what I just said, got me wondering a bit as the site is huge, and the buildings massive with incredibly landscaped grounds. There are vines growing on everything, fountains, lots of greenery..really beautiful. It was explained that because of the issues that many of the children face at home, that they want to give them an escape from that..and it truly is at that, as it's like a Garden of Eden.

The project has a medical clinic where involved families get to see a doctor for free. It is also open to non-participants for 15 quetzales ($2), half of what the public clinics cost and with probably half the wait time. There is also a dental clinic, a cold storage where they keep donations, and from which food hampers are given to the mothers every Friday.

The school is an elegant building with a big staircase and pillars. It's well maintained and nicely equipped with a library, as well as a computer lab which is new this year. It runs from kindergarten to grade 6 or 7 after which kids move on to another school or training. It was explained that the parents are given 150 quetzales ($19) for school supplies, uniforms etc at the beginning of the year and that they pay nothing for the children to attend. The education provided is also better than the public schools as apparently in Guatemala teachers often strike which leads to there being no school. Class sizes are also about 20, half of what the public schools have. If children finish school and go on to college, the project will pay for them, as long as they get good grades. The whole set up is very impressive.

I also got to see a little house on the premises, which is one of over 1000 houses that the project has built for families who prior to that lived in something much worse. To the average person the houses that they build would look like a small, blue shack but Gladys explained that to the families they work with, it is something huge. Many volunteer groups come from the US to build these houses which cost 3-5 thousand quetzales ($400-600) and can be built in 3 days if you can believe it. So great to see....

The following day the plan was for me to arrive at 8:00 a.m. in order to do outreach with the social workers for the morning. This would involve lots of walking and perhaps some local buses to reach some of the families. The purpose of the visits is to assess their needs, try and connect them to the project's programs (or outside resources/advocacy) and check on how things are going within the project. I was so pumped!!!

So the next day I arrived (first one there), and waited, and waited. Finally I found Gladys, who explained that the social workers had to clean their offices as well as do some paperwork and as a result they weren't going out on outreach that day. After my volunteer experiences in other countries I shouldn't have been surprised by this news, as that's just the way it is..it's a different world that you have to adjust to. I was still disappointed though, and yes I did have a Cuba Libre that afternoon instead of my usual coffee..so someone should probably get me some inf on AFM for me, haha! Gladys, I'm sure feeling bad, suggested that I could go to Casa Jackson again, but I was like "no gracias!" So we made a plan to meet the following day for an introduction to the homeless shelter. My fingers were crossed that things would improve.

The following evening I half expected Gladys to not show up at 6:00 p.m. to take me to the homeless shelter as planned. But thankfully she did. We arrived and I immediately loved it!

The shelter is in a strategic location next to the market, and is gated. Each person needs to be let in, after which it is padlocked. Inside there is one side for men, consisting of a shower room, toilets and washing area, followed by an open space where they sleep on mats. On the other side is the same set up for women and children but their sleeping area is closed off by a linked partition and tarps covering it for privacy. In the middle is an elevated area where the 2 staff work, and from which they can see what is going on. It is all concrete and so looks more prison-ish, but it is clean and pretty nice actually.

I was quickly given a key and showed the process for the people entering. Once we notice someone at the door, we greet them (here, you greet almost everyone with good morning, good afternoon or good evening (in Spanish of course). Apart from just letting them in we have to do a quick assessment of whether they have been drinking, as they can't be under the influence to stay. Most are regulars so the staff pretty much know who to watch out for, but I was told to keep my nose on alert, and to ask people, in a nice way of course, if they had been drinking. Right up my alley!!! So I manned the gate and let the crowd in, about 20 people (apparently some people come a bit later after they are done working i.e. street vendors).

After they get past the gate one of the staff pats them down and looks through their things. Anything resembling a weapon is taken from them and returned the next morning. One of the staff, Alex, explained that it is common for people to have knives for protection on the street, so they are often taking away various things. Once inside they have to bathe, and then they sit, chat and wait for dinner.

I observed and made small talk with some of the men, one of which who showed me a scar across most of his belly that he explained was from a machete attack. Yuck it looked awful. He was very friendly and remembered my name later so I suspect that he and I are going to have some more chats :)

Then Manuelito shuffled in; the tiniest old man of 75 years! I could smell alcohol right away as did Alex so he wasn't going to be able to stay. He and Alex clearly had a relationship and Alex was so good with him, getting him some juice boxes and joking with him for a bit. Manuelito didn't want to go though and so they literally had to push him out. Alex told me that he had been a soldier for a long time and that he often has flashbacks to that time. While we were standing there, trying to convince him to go, he did a soldier's salute more than once and used the word "commandante" (commander). It is no wonder he drinks as from what I am reading about the war here in Guatemala, it was brutal. So poor Manuelito went on his way, probably to sleep on the street.

The only woman, Maria, arrived early. She is a short, tiny woman of 57 years with short, dishevelled hair, and was wearing an "I love New York" t-shirt, long skirt and some jewelry that she had proudly found. Well I immediately loved her. She has such a sweet face, smiling up at you almost always and is simply a gentle soul. She arrived with 2 big garbage bags full of recyclables, which she collects and sells in order to survive. Doing so she earns about 35 quetzales per day (about $3). I found her somewhat difficult to understand as she is so soft spoken but I understood enough to share her story.

Maria's mother lived to be in her 80s but her father died of alcoholism. She has 3 siblings but doesn't have much to do with them. When her mother died I believe her sister took over the family house and wanted to charge Maria an exorbitant amount of money to rent it (1200 quetzales which is $150 and super expensive). She has one son in Antigua and 3 grandchildren but it doesn't sound like there is much of a connection there either. Alex explained that when the parents have issues they are often abandoned by their adult children. And Maria has her issues. She gets attacks which make her suddenly black out and fall. One day she fell on Alex! If she takes her medication, 3 pills a day, she does pretty well I think, but of course when you live on the street and are scrounging to survive, you can't always buy the medicine you need. I asked her if she ever sees a doctor and she told me no, that she just asks to God (the best way I can translate).

Maria came to Antigua about 22 years ago after discovering that her husband was involved with her cousin, who was pregnant. From what I could gather Maria was not able to have children at that time so the revelation was a double whammy for her. It was at that time that her attacks started, she feels as a result of the "colera" (anger, rage) from the situation. I'm not sure for how many years now, but Maria sleeps in the park on the nights that she cannot stay in the shelter (as it is only open 3 nights a week due to funding constraints). She said she is used to sleeping in the park now, but that she only sleeps for about 2-3 hours. Now I have to say, it is really cold right now..not anything like Canada, but for Guatemalans it has been particularly cold this season and some have been dying from being on the street overnight. Alex also told me that people aren't supposed to sleep in the park and that the police will hit or throw water on them if the mood strikes. I couldn't imagine her sleeping outside in what she was wearing and so asked her if she had gloves, or warmer clothes. She doesn't though and said that if she does get something warm people just rob her of it. The other day she went to sleep with a scarf and when she woke up it was gone. I have some mini gloves here and I will certainly give them to her. I just hope she can hold on to them.

It was really quite unreal how at peace Maria seemed with her existence, and how happy and appreciative she is of things like the shelter, the people who give her a little money on the street, or of the things she has found, like the necklaces around her neck. She and I are going to be fast friends and I already want to give her the world. There will always be some people that will make a mark on your heart. For those of you who have read my previous posts, Teo and Proscovia are examples of that, and on my very first day at the homeless shelter, my guess is that Maria is probably going to be another one :)

5 countries, 17 days

Well, I'm finally blogging again, which I'm excited about, although I'm not sure this post will be super interesting for most of you as it pretty much just chronicles the start of my travels in Central America (more for when the Alzheimer's kicks in).

Once again I quit my job and rented out my condo in order to do some volunteer travel for some months (for the winter of course). It killed me to not go back to India/Nepal this year, but for once I took the advice of some of my peeps and decided to try something new.

I almost didn't choose Central America as the travel reports weren't so great (lots of murders, rapes, kidnappings-you know, the kinds of things you really want to worry about when you are a single female traveller), plus it didn't help that 2 of my good friends, both from Central/South America, had told me that Guatemala (where I planned to stay for awhile to volunteer), was pretty dangerous.

But there is always another side and after reading great travel reports from tourists, I decided to give it a go. Probably the best decision I made though, was to take a short group tour first. The reasoning was threefold; to develop some comfort in Central America within the safety of a group, to see other countries which I wouldn't go to on my own, and in order to know where I might want to go after Guatemala.

So I chose a G Adventures (formally Gap Adventures) tour called The Backroads of Central America, which started in San Jose, Costa Rica, and ended in Antigua, Guatemala where I planned to volunteer. So 5 countries in 17 days!

On November 26, 2013 I flew to San Jose which was smooth sailing despite the usual attempts by taxi drivers to rip you off at the airport. Thank goodness for my (limited) Spanish! I'm embarrassed to say that I saw little of San Jose as my goal was to hit the mall for some basics that I forgot, although that turned out to be a bust. Let's just say it wasn't exactly Polo Park.

I met the group the evening of November 27th and it was pretty United Nations which I love! 7 countries represented in total..several Canadians (Dani, Bobbi, Mike and Kevin (although Kevin is a special case as he is a Chinese guy who grew up in India, who now is Canadian but he lives in Texas). Can you imagine his Customs forms, Geez Louise! One American (Rachel), an Australian (Hussain aka Shelley), Robin from Wales, Alicia from Sweden and...our tour guide Ernyk from Costa Rica. A final member, Avi from Bangalore, India (woot woot) didn't make it until later due to some visa issues :(

We left early the next morning (after Robin's big breakfast) for adventure central La Fortuna, where there is supposedly a volcano overlooking the town, but which we never saw as it was rainy and covered in clouds. We couldn't do much that afternoon because of the weather so walked to town in the rain (rather than taking a very cheap taxi AKA bad decision #1). That night we decided to forgo the free hot springs on the river which the locals frequented, for a hoity toity resort which had many different hot spring fed pools, a waterslide etc. It was all lit up in different coloured lights, there was music, a swim up bar...beautiful! The only problem is how do you get drinks at the swim up bar when you can't keep your money dry? Well, leave it to Ernyk (AKA Rico as in Rico Suave as I soon named him for his calm, cool Rasta vibe), as he hooked us up with a bottle of rum that we mixed on the down low straight up high school style yo. So a couple Cuba Libres whilst soaking in some beautifully lit hot spring fed pools wasn't too shabby.

The next day we all split up to do separate activities. Kevin, Alicia and I went off whitewater rafting AKA my death wish. Now I have to preface this by saying that I have whitewater rafted several times and have NEVER fallen out. Perhaps I was a little cocky in a boat full of newbies, who knows. After our safety briefing, which I think I was only half listening to given what happened minutes later, we took off with our fearless leader Fabio. Well we barely started down the river when we hit our first rapid, which Fabio had told us was an 'Oh Shit" rapid, which meant that on his command we all needed to jump into the middle of the boat with our paddles up. Well, I doubt the next part was part of the plan as the ol' boat hit a big rock and we were almost vertical with Kevin and I on the bottom end. In the water we went (although I had no idea until much later that Kevin fell in with me), and all I remember is hitting the cold water, being swept away fast, underwater of course, and slamming against rocks. At the same time I remember thinking OMG when will I be able to come up for air!? It was soooo scary!! Then I remember someone saying "I got you" and being scooped up into the boat. And that my friends, is the moment when Fabio became the hottest guy in the world :) Once in the boat I remember whining "I don't wanna do this anymore!" so scared that it was going to happen again..shite! But of course it was just the beginning so I had no choice but to continue. How traumatic I tell you!!!

So we continued and I swear I hung on to that rope like no tomorrow!!! Luckily I have a play by play picture library to remind me of the trauma. Thankfully, now it is hilarious to watch especially given that every picture after, no matter what, the rope and I are ONE. Fabio had a great time watching my facial expressions for the rest of the journey as my look of fear was pretty funny apparently. At one point he said "yes I'm still here" as I must have been looking back for some reassurance that my hero was still there.

The pain worsened as the minutes went on, as I had clearly pulled some muscles while the river was playing with my life. I couldn't paddle backwards after awhile but the story ends well as we made it back safely (after what seemed like hours). I could barely walk by this point. But hey. as they say in Costa Rica, "pura vida!!" I'm still alive and it's all good! Not sure I will be rafting anytime soon, however.

The next day we went on to Monteverde which is THE place for ziplining, a great activity when one is in major pain. But when in Costa Rica as they say..I just had to do it. I didn't find it scary although I have to admit that while doing the Superman (I don't think I need to explain) on a couple of the longest lines in Latin America I couldn't help but image the cable breaking and the splat that my body would be on the ground. Well that was nothing really because at the end was the Tarzan Swing. Although it wasn't really rocket science as to what it would involve, we couldn't really visualize what would happen and nobody would tell us anything which was probably good or I may not have done it. They clearly know this as they barely give you a chance to say whether you want to go, or to explain what you need to do. The gate opens and they push you out holding on to a rope free falling until the rope starts swinging. Holy crap, so scary!!!!! Costa Rica will now be forever remembered as the country where I had 2 of the scariest experiences of my life!

That night we went on a night hike, ideally to see sloths, which Robin was most excited for after his stuffed sloth purchase which will either be a hit with the ladies, or cause for them to run for the hills..hard to say. It was a really cool hike with a very knowledgeable guide, and thankfully we saw around 7 sloths, some super close including a mom carrying her baby which was the best sight. We also saw a tarantula in a hole which was super freaky, AND, the best part, a really cute cat followed us the whole time and I loved her :)

After cool weather, lots of rain, everyone and everything smelling like wet dogs, we left for Nicaragua. Well it turned out that the government had instituted a new tax system that day (lucky us) and that due to a problem at the border you had to pay in the closest city about 1.5 hours away. Many found this out the hard way by arriving at the border and being turned away which meant an additional 3 hours in travel alone. Thankfully we found out while we were in the city so lined up to pay. There were tons of people in front of us, and at first I was pretty pumped to be apart of the experience, especially when the locals started to get irritated with the lack of movement yelling FILA FILA, ATRAS ATRAS (which essentially meant they were trying to call attention to the line). Oh yessss I was all up in there like Forrest Gump trying to be apart of that group! Well as the HOURS passed and with the scorching heat, I started to get a bit more aggressive so we could get into that bank! It was a crazy scene with people paying others to process their documents for them (meaning some were going in with oodles of passports). People were also passing off children to women who were able to get into a special women and children's line. Did I mention that Rico, our fearless leader, is the most laidback, calm guy you'll ever meet, a true Rasta (you know, the ya maaan type)..well he was just going with the flow. So I had to take matters in my own hands...there was no way anyone was getting past me! Just as we were getting close some chick tried to budge, and she was like "no hay fila" which means "there is no line" and I was all up in her grill saying "Si hay!!" which means "yes there is!!!" hahahaha I loved it...So finally I inched my way in to first place, and then when I was next I let Rico take over. We ended up being very late that day but it was an experience none of us will forget. It's all about the memories you know..

After a border crossing, a couples buses, and a 'luxurious' ferry where we sat on the deck floor amongst all the other wares, we arrived in Ometepe, a beautiful island on Lake Nicaragua, also the site of a massive volcano. Once there, the group was disbursed amongst families for a 2 day homestay experience. As it turned out, Dani, me, Alicia and Rachel ended up in a Big Pimpin house, probably the biggest and nicest around. The family was so cute (Roman Sr., Sandra and their 3 kids; Roman Jr. Jilma and Steven. They hadn't been with the homestay program very long and it was obvious that they aimed to please. Like for instance we made the mistake of taking their offer of eating outside where it was cooler, after which Sr. and Jr. carried out the dining room table! For dinner we had an interesting typical dish of crispy tortillas topped with shredded mozza cheese, splats of ketchup and something else, perhaps mayo. It sounds kinda gross but it was actually pretty good. The family didn't speak English so needless to say I had to be on my A game as the others didn't speak Spanish.

Our time with them was lovely, apart from there not being full walls resulting in absolutely no privacy, and the herd of 36 cows outside my bedroom. No, really, we had the best food (i.e. the best scrambled eggs of my life), and the family was absolutely lovely. In this area there are about 18 families who work with this homestay program and it appears to be a highly coveted program to belong to. There is a certain criteria that you have to meet, including not being in any trouble with the police..well too bad for that..wouldn't that make for a great time!

The next day only one of us in the group was energetic enough to do 10 hour hike up/down the volcano. God Forbid, in my nightmares! Instead a group of us decided to rent some scooters and tour around the island at our leisure. Sounded like a grand idea to a girl who had never driven a scooter, especially one that thought she would be a passenger. But after a couple of the other girls elected not to drive, I had no choice. I was freaked out after getting some basic instructions in Spanish/poor English, plus the roads were initially sandy which freaked me out even more. As well my helmet was busted and so was falling off all the time, which I am sure looked very attractive, so I was playing with it constantly thereby creating some difficulty. I eventually lightened up a bit, apparently more so after a Cuba Libre stop, and the gang with our hogs, as we preferred to refer to them (yes, the scooters), toured around the island. The countryside was beautiful and the people clearly don't see many hog gangs around as they were very curious and friendly. We checked out a beach but otherwise just toured around like badass gangstas. Needless to say driving a hog is not my strength and so I had a few "incidents." In my defence I did get the most crappy scooter (which in some ways was good as the owner shouldn't notice the damage as much, haha), although had I not had such a crappy scooter perhaps I wouldn't have wiped out..2, perhaps 3, times. I'm killing myself laughing as I write this as it's funny now but at the time, not so much. Between the whitewater rafting and the scooter driving I could have needed that travel insurance after all (which thankfully I did remember to get this time Mother). Instead I just ended up with a stellar bruise on my leg which lasted a good 3-4 weeks.

That night we met a the local meeting place where the families made dinner for us. I didn't like that so much as I would have liked to eat with our family rather than being served. We also tried the infamous Flor de Cana rum of Nicaragua which I had tried before, but which is waaaay better in the country! Sugarcane is growing everywhere so there is plenty of it for the rum.

The next day after another ferry ride and chicken bus (the bus the locals travel in which could have chickens or anything else under the sun, and which I was very much looking forward to) we arrived in Granada. I really loved Granada as it is very colonial and the buildings are all in vibrant colours. There are patios everywhere in the street and with its infamous hot weather it's like summer in Winnipeg :) Thankfully G Adventures hooked us up with a hotel with a pool which provided great relief from the heat. That night after walking around we ordered in and had a pizza party around the pool with me as DJ, (a role I always seem to end up in and let me tell you this was a tough crowd to play for!). We checked out the local nightlife a bit later which was a great time..but I'm pretty sure the other guests didn't appreciate us so much.

The next day we just strolled around and it was lovely..I could definitely see myself going back. That night some of us did a tour of an active volcano/bat caves. I had never seen a volcano up close before, never mind one that was smoking with some visible lava once it was dark. So that was pretty cool. I was pretty freaked out by the potential for bats flying at my face in the cave (and I put my jacket on despite it being 100 degrees just so they couldn't touch me) but there were only like 3, so it was pretty tame.

The next day we were off to Poneloya, an isolated little place on the coast of Nicaragua. After a long bus ride, a boat to get us and our bags across a little stream, and then what seemed like a forever walk to the lodge..we arrived. It was a hostel-ish environment with our group sharing an upstairs dorm with a beautiful view of the ocean. And there was nothing else around except for the lodge. We laid around, swam, at night listened to music around a fire, and watched drunk tourists dance. Unfortunately the beach was not the cleanest, particularly after the drunk girls proceeded to puke on it. Thankfully we had Bobbi though, as she has a talent for identifying uncleanly things such as used condoms in the sand. Gross me green!

The next day was to be a long day as we made our way to El Salvador. I was super excited as it's not the most touristy place and is a country that I wouldn't have gone by myself due to its reputation. After a long bus ride we arrived at a remote border crossing where we were to catch a ferry. In preparation for our 4 hour boat ride I of course wanted to hit the bathroom. Well instead of the bush Rico told me that sometimes they let people use the bathroom in Immigration. So our driver took it upon himself to usher me to a bathroom, and quite proudly as if it was his house. Well, after my many travels all over the world, including India, which has a bad rap for bathroom issues, this was by far the worst! There was no running water and the toilet had clearly been used, a lot, with there being some good, kolbassa type logs in there. The smell was so bad that I gagged 3 times before getting out, and my eyes were watering like crazy. As I walked out in this shape, the good ol' driver was right there, I guess wanting to check how I made out. My God, how horrible...

As luck would have it our boat didn't show up and we couldn't get any information as to when it was coming. While we waited the Customs guy asked us to bring our packs out for him to check. And he proceeded to eye us all up, clearly using high tech assessment skills to decide who may be smuggling (who knows what) out of the country. Clearly a make work project, he casually checked a few bags (Wales and India represented for sure, I can't remember who else) and all he came up with was Robin's prized stuffed animal, the Sloth.

Eventually we left to find a restaurant as it was turning into a long wait with no end in sight. Several hours after arriving our boat finally showed up, well actually, a faster, more luxurious boat showed up, it seemed perhaps to make up for the long wait. What was to be a 4 hour trip with no seats, took 1.5 hours with plenty of room. Well some things happen for a reason, because the trip to El Salvador ended up taking place later in the day around sunset and the ride was absolutely breathtaking. We travelled through the Gulf with Nicaragua behind us, Honduras to the right, and El Salvador to the left. Beautiful volcanoes and rolling hills, the sun going down, and the water like glass. It was absolutely amazing. So despite a very long day and some bad luck with the boat, we arrived in El Salvador grinning from ear to ear from the spectacular ride.

After many more hours in a bus we arrived in Suchitoto, a small, sleepy town in El Salvador. On the way we stopped at a store, something like a 7-11 mid evening (which I found out after the driver was quite concerned about as apparently it was a dangerous area and this was the safest place for us to stop). Outside of the store, a guard with an automatic rifle, and inside, the same. That was a bit disconcerting. After getting my snack of course I had to seize the opportunity to chat with the guard outside to find out what this was all about. Apparently around the area it was quite rough so they pretty much need armed guards so people feel safe to even come in. Welcome to El Salvador!

The next morning we strolled around town and to the market to get some pupusas, an El Salvadorian speciality, a grilled tortilla of rice and corn with beans, meat and/or cheese inside. I wasn't too excited as I had had them before, like at Folklarama, and didn't overly like them. We went to the park and ate our breakfast and they were delicious though! After that I was on the pupusa hunt and this town did not disappoint for delicious pupusas. That day we basically just strolled around and it was lovely. I found the people super friendly, there were almost no tourists and the town was very quaint. I was loving El Salvador!

The next day we travelled to Concepcion de Ataco, another small town; this one noted for its colourful murals, which were beautiful. It is also noted for its coffee so we went on a highly anticipated coffee tour, which turned out to be fantastic. On the way we saw the coffee bushes with their red berries. The tour though, involved the actual production of coffee, from the time the berries arrive, to the point the packages are filled for the store. It was incredible to see how many steps go into it, how many different types of machines are involved, plus human labour. We saw an assembly line of women who during the process hand sort beans, taking out the undesirable ones. Had no idea...This processing plant turned out to be a major supplier of Starbucks, so let me tell you, I now have a much greater appreciation for why my latte costs so much!! At the end of the tour we tasted their coffee on the beautiful grounds. It was made simply by pouring hot water through a mesh filter and was fantastic!

That night we had a nice dinner, with an armed guard at the door of the restaurant. It seemed strange as the town was so small and innocent looking. I hope someone can explain to me one day what goes on there and why there is a need for such high security.

I was sad to leave El Salvador, feeling the need to see more. But on a 17 day tour of 5 countries, time is precious. So before the sun came up we were off once again, this time to Honduras. Interestingly enough, to get there, we crossed into Guatemala then came back through into Honduras, meaning 3 countries in one day. We arrived in Copan, the home of the famous ruins, and here I had the best food I had had in Central America. Honduras is the home of the Baleada, which is basically a soft tortilla with whatever you want in it. But this one tasted like the chapati I used to have in Mysore, India so I was in heaven. As you can tell, for me it's all about the food! I may not always remember what I did somewhere I've been, a place I have been, but I will always remember what I ate!!

So we toured Copan, and I'm kind of ashamed to say that I didn't really enjoy it. But hey, I try and tell myself that we all like different things and ruins are just not my thing, especially after seeing so many in Cambodia and Peru, and as well after being up since 5:30 am and travelling across 3 countries. But Copan itself was a nice town which we got a chance to just stroll around in. It was here that a little boy ventured into our hotel selling Xmas ornaments made of corn husk dolls. He was the cutest little guy and so I was determined to clean him out of his stock! He was a smart kid though, because when he realized this, he ran off to his mom to get more, and then doubled the price :) Shelley begrudgingly bought a big ornament but I hear now that the recipient was pretty happy with it, plus with the story as well.

There are so many little kids working in Central America, selling everything from gum to cornhusk dolls, shining shoes etc. It is hard to see when you think of the life kids have in "the developed countries." Coming from child protection, it also made me think of how easy it is for kids to get trafficked or hurt. This little guy (maybe 6 years old) came right into our hotel, with a group of adults and sat with us for a bit without any worry for what could happen. Scary stuff...

The following day was our final travel day, to Antigua. Guatemala, which would be my home for awhile. My first impression was as expected..very colonial and colourful and with volcanoes surrounding it. It reminded me of Cuzco, Peru with its colonial look, spring-like temperature, tons of people selling things and many tourists. We basically just toured around and that night had a farewell dinner followed by a a little dancing in a jam packed bar, followed by a little swimming (by some) in the pilas (pools of water meant for washing for those who don't have water). Pretty sure somebody, who will remain nameless, will have Hepatitis after that excursion :)

Sadly, most people were off early the next morning to their various countries. I knew in advance this would be a hard transition for me, losing not only the security of a group, but also friends that had become like family in such a short time. But the whole experience was so great, and as I tried to tell myself, as one door closes, another opens, so who knew what was yet in store! Wait and see!

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

Letter from Proscovia

You may have read my blogs about Proscovia, a Ugandan woman that I happened to meet while in Nepal in 2009. She has been imprisoned there for about 6 years (with over 10 years to go) on drug trafficking charges. If you don't know her story, please look for it in this blog.

 

It is hard to believe that almost a year and a half have passed since I've heard from or about Proscovia. No word since April 2012 when I saw her for the last time. It's not that surprising though given how restrictive the prison had become a couple years ago. I know that no emails means no visitors for Proscovia, and that saddens me as I know how much of a lifeline they are for her. They break up the monotony of daily prison life, give her something to look forward to, and most importantly keep her connected to friends and family. And as an added bonus sometimes visitors bring her supplies, treats etc that help her get by in her physically and emotionally deprived environment.

 

I was thrilled to see "Proscovia" in my email one day last month. She is often in my thoughts and even more so in August as we share the same birthday month. Well, it turns out that Sara, a volunteer, was able to visit her and through her Proscovia had sent a brief email to friends asking for news from us. Sara wrote that she would be seeing Proscovia on her upcoming birthday and that she hoped to have some letters to share with her that day.

 

I wrote her a really long email trying to summarize what had been going on in my life since I left Nepal keeping in mind that Sara would be reading about my life, as would the prison guards. Although I'm not sure why they bother as I'm pretty sure they can't understand a word.

 

Anyway, a couple weeks later I received the following short email from Proscovia through Sara:

 

I hope you had a wonderful birthday celebration. May I request that next year we should celebrate it in the same country? We mark it in yours as its always a coincidence down here that its closed some festival. No visitors allowed.....Think about it - miss you!

Bye

Proscovia

 

I thought it was weird that her message was so brief, and it left me craving for more news. The next day, as if she knew what I was thinking,, the following email was received:

 

Well, Crystalgee, you know my craziness seeing you last time, sure you noticed. I have upgraded, imagine ages without receiving a white plain paper with prints on it (ie. email). Here I was getting the papers on my birthday, guess what it was like. Thanks soooo much for my greetings. Sure I am well, taking care of myself, only the teeth are still not fine, it is a long story but briefly: - we have a private "hospital" with a private dentist whenever he puts a filling in the tooth I will not eat for 2 days just to save the filling for a week. When I complain he suggests a "tooth cap" silver metal in a shape of a tooth and he asks for between 5k to 8k. The nurses said, complaints are too many he is going to get sacked so I stopped attending with my gaps still hanging. My root canal that you gave me money for never got completed since it was bad timing (when the hospital got opened). they refused us to go to Bir hospital (public one) this jail hospital is 10 mins walk and the building is decent, not the treatment. I got X-ray on my arm when they tried to view it at Bir Hospital wasn't clear, so I had to get another exposure to X-ray. Nothing in that place makes sense only the blood they take from people for any lab requests is real. I am scared I will not be able to smile in the future or to bite the "Nyama Choma" (BBQ) African favourite.

 

The last festival here last week had goat slaughtered, till it was eaten, finished. I could not breathe. The fumes were not fair to me. What is happening to me? No more meat eater especially fresh??

 

I think Surendra is going soon. Better lock the girls up. Yes, I got your regards from his gal. Thanks indeed. Though I was jealous why I was not hearing from you directly, why him, like after their romantic talk, then my message. hahahaha. not really, but I was excited. Maybe this Dasain he will be out of here.

 

Nicole (Proscovia's daughter) is fine, hope to speak to her this week. I received letter from Nicole personally thanking me for the gifts. That means all that you sent got to her. How lovely!!! I have no words to thank you, how to express my gratitude, don't know. For the start "asante sanaa". You are one of those that led her to the next level of schooling my dear. All she needed was inspiration, words of encouragement and to show her mum loves and cares about her still. You helped me deliver all this to her. It was a moment which sure she needed me around but it put my mind to ease a little compared to all that I am going through.

 

Thanks indeed.

 

Are you in touch with Alfred (Proscovia's uncle)? He lost his first daughter to Cerebral Malaria, just in case I informed you already please don't mind me repeating myself. I aint proper in mind. I received news that the lad from Macau who has got intestine problems is in a coma. She got admitted a few days ago at Bir. Let's pray for her.

 

Proscovia

 

Thanks a lot. I enjoyed the stories but you missed that one of you when you had just left here to Toronto. I miss you - Happy birthday

 

I am so grateful that someone took the time to keep us connected. And I am sure Proscovia is over the moon as can you imagine 1.5 years locked in a foreign prison with no ability to communicate with your friends and family? Thankfully she is able to find a way to make calls to her daughter Nicole as I am sure those calls keep them both going.

 

It sounds like her teeth issues continue (be thankful for our great dental care here folks!) but otherwise she seems to be hanging in. I can't imagine.

 

I plan to write to Sara to thank her and see how long she will be in Nepal. Hopefully she will be there for awhile yet so we can get some more emails in as there may not be another opportunity for some time. I will keep you posted. Hope you enjoyed the update on Ms P!

Karuna Around the World-SE Asia

After a few weeks back in Nepal I flew to Bangkok to meet my best friend Corrine for 3 weeks of travelling through Cambodia. What a learning experience that was; I'm embarrassed to say that before that trip I knew almost nothing about the Khmer and the genocide that happened in Cambodia not so long ago. That topic is perhaps for another post..

After Corrine left I stuck around in Cambodia for another week. While in Phnom Phen I asked around about visiting a prison but was told by locals that only family could visit. So I didn't take it any further. Strike 2, although it wasn't anything as disappointing as Strike 1.

Then I went to Vietnam and was told the same thing there. I wasn't surprised to hear this in Vietnam though given that it's a communist country. I didn't think they would be the most open about foreigners snooping about. Strike 3.

Well, there would be no giving up.

After a 3 week tour and a final week on my own in Vietnam, I returned to Bangkok, Thailand with the main purpose of visiting a prisoner there. I had already read about the infamous Bangkwang Prison, of which many books had been written, mainly because of horrible prison conditions and horrific treatment of prisoners. Bangkwang was so famous that it had actually been listed in the Lonely Planet guidebook as something to do while in Bangkok. Quite strange. I wasn't so focused on Bangkwang but wanted to visit at least one prison while there given that was the reason I had come back.

Knowing that visiting prisons was a more common thing to do in Bangkok and having the Lonely Planet tip of contacting an embassy to arrange it, I emailed the Canadian Embassy while I was in Vietnam to see if there were any incarcerated Canadians that I could visit. Within no time I received an email suggesting that I visit Adrian, a Dutch-Canadian prisoner at Bangkwang, and including the information that I needed to see him.

I can remember the pressure of having a small window of opportunity to visit that day, as well as the feat that it was to get there and manouver the entry process. The main mode of transportation in Bangkok is by ferry which takes you up and down the river running through the city. So I first took the ferry, then once at my stop wandered around bewildered until I gave up and hired a rickshaw to take me to the prison. Well of course it turned out to literally be around the corner from the ferry stop. So got ripped off on that transaction but whatever..I was there!

I stood across the street taking the picture that you are seeing now, enthralled as I always am with prisons, and amazed that I was there. I had made it before visiting hours so sat down in an outdoor waiting area with a small group of people who seemed to be having some sort of prayer session while they waited. Didn't join in on that party...
 

Nothing was written in English so I sat and hoped that I was in the right place. The wicket eventually opened after which I was sent to another area where I had to fill out a piece of paper and wait for the visit to be approved. That seemed to be quite a process so I was a bit anxious that I was going to be turned away. But eventually I got my approval and went on my way.

I don't remember much about the security process after that to be honest except that it was really confusing and that I felt like an idiot not understanding a thing. I swear nobody spoke English in that prison. After a series of checkpoints and bars, I ended up in a visiting area, which was very modern and consisted of a U shaped building with many many stations where visitors sat with a phone, separated by glass with the inmates on the other side. There was no privacy between the stations so everyone could see eachother. I waited forever for Adrian to arrive and was uncertain whether he was even coming as there were no guards around to explain anything. Thankfully an English speaking foreign missionary told me where to sit, that Adrian was coming and so on. So I waited.

Adrian finally appeared and presented as a tall, thin white guy probably in his late 40s with greyish hair and glasses. Totally the guy next door. What has stuck with me about this visit was how Adrian presented. From the moment he appeared he was just such a happy, good natured guy, smiling, joking and talking constantly. By this time he had been in prison for about 8 years. He had had some foreign visitors before; the Lonely Planet disciples, which he didn't complain about, because who wouldn't be happy to escape the boredom and loneliness of being in a foreign prison. But he was intuitive enough to know that they were there for the prison experience rather than out of concern for him. He was like an animal on display in a zoo.

So I explained to him why I was there, that I had visited inmates before and why. And then we just talked...

Adrian's story goes that he was living in Bangkok with his Thai girlfriend in the home of a friend (another foreigner). He openly admitted that he and his friend were both into selling drugs and that one day there was a raid and a whole lot of Ecstasy was found. He and his girlfriend were charged whereas the friend went free. Adrian explained the story with some amusement; in that although he was in fact selling drugs, that that day they weren't actually his. Let's just say his "friend" didn't own up to the drugs being his and Adrian and his girlfriend were eventually convicted. I can't remember the exact sentence but it was something like 10-12 years.

Because of the business he was in and the resulting risk that he was taking, he seemed somewhat accepting of his fate. However, what was clear was that he felt deeply remorseful about his girlfriend being convicted as well. He knew that she didn't have the same rights or opportunity for release as he did being a foreigner, and vowed that once he was out he was going to try and get her out too.

Speaking of getting out, he was working on it with both the Canadian and Dutch embassies given that he had dual citizenship. He told me that it was going to be faster to get sent back to Holland so he was going to go with that plan, but that he preferred to live in Canada and once he was back in Holland would work on that. We also talked about the fact that drug laws were so liberal in Holland that he probably wouldn't have even been locked up had he been caught there. There certainly would be no repercussions for him once he was released and sent back there.

 

Adrian raved about how amazing of a support the Canadian Embassy had been to him, visiting regularly, bringing him food, clothes, and being an emotional support. He actually credited the Embassy with saving his life. The reason being was that he had cancer and with the poor medical treatment in prison he had gone for a long time without being diagnosed. It was the Embassy that pressured the prison to have him checked which led to the cancer diagnosis and treatment. From what I recall he wasn't out of the woods yet in terms of his cancer, but was incredibly positive about his situation.

We talked about Bangkwang; by this time he had been there about 8 years. He confirmed some things that I had heard, such as prisoners having to wear leg chains for the first year, major corruption and beatings by guards. He told me that the Southeast Asians (those from Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos) were treated the worst by the guards, sadly, because they have no power. Adrian told me that he himself had not been mistreated and I remember him almost being flippant about it. What I mean by that is that he scoffed at the possibility, stating that they knew that if they touched him the Embassy would be on them so fast, that they would never get away with it. Just another example of the privileges that come along with being Canadian.

It was a really great visit; we laughed, joked, he was easy to talk to, and just a jovial, positive guy. I can still picture his smile and how lit up he was when he talked. He was very thankful that I had come, and I left with an email address to the prison to drop him a line. After saying goodbye I made my way to the prison store to pick out some food supplies for him. The system there was really high tech; you basically picked out the items, paid for them after which they delivered them to Adrian, just like a flower delivery here! I did wonder if it was a sham and whether the stuff would actually get to him, although I had no choice but to go along with it. And so after doing that, and I remember spending a long time in there carefully picking out my items, making sure that I was getting him things that would last, I made my way back through the maze out of the prison. I remember feeling so elated after leaving. It was the accomplishment of actually getting there and visiting with Adrian, and then for it to have been such an enjoyable and enlightening visit.

  

I did write to Adrian after my visit, but never heard back. Honestly, I don't know whether my letter even got to him, which I feel bad about as I wanted him to know that it wasn't just a random, "animal in a cage" type of visit for me. I wanted him to know that I did think of him, and wonder how his health was. Also whether he ended up returning to Holland, or reuniting with his girlfriend. But I guess I'll never know...

 

Karuna Around the World..Strike 1, India

It was the prison system in Nepal and my relationships with inmates living within it that led to a resolution, a resolution that wherever I travelled in the world I would attempt to visit a foreign prisoner. The purpose being to brighten their day and make life a little easier, whether it was bringing them food or supplies, sending off an email to a loved one back home, or just breaking up the monotony of their day.

 

After leaving Nepal in March 2009 I headed to India where I had booked a tour of the South. After the 3 week tour, which was excellent, I headed off on my own to Goa, a coastal paradise. There the plan was to meet up with my friend and fellow volunteer from Nepal, Allison. Plus, I had done some research before going and learnt that there was a prison in the area. So I planned to take my chances at visiting.

 

Well, looking back it was a dumb idea. I should have known that the completely open prison system that I had experienced in Nepal was not so in other countries. In Nepal (at that time), anyone could simply show up, look at a list of foreign prisoners on the wall and pick who they wanted to see. So I expected that it would be that easy in India as well.

 

Luckily the place where I would be meeting Allison was close by the prison. After finding a hotel I hired a taxi and off we went. On the way I stopped at a little store and picked up some basic things to give to the person who I expected to meet such as toiletries and some snacks.

 

We drove along the beautiful coast and arrived at a stone, fort-like prison on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It was so bizarre that a prison had been built in such a beautiful place. I remember thinking that apart from the fact that these prisoners were locked up, they sure were lucky to have such an amazing view!

 

I had a really good taxi driver; a young guy who spoke good English, and bless his heart he went and talked to the military type guards that were standing at the entrance of the prison. I knew it didn't look good when I noticed the visiting hours posted on the gate, and I wasn't there on one of those days. On top of that I learnt that only family members could visit, so it didn't even matter that it wasn't a visiting day. It was pretty clear that there was no Canadian girl charm that was going to get me in, so disappointed and dejected I left with my bag of goodies, all bought for nothing.

 

I think the taxi driver felt bad that I had hired him for nothing, so on the way back he played tour guide, taking me to a fort that was popular with tourists. I had no desire to tour this fort after the failed prison visit but went along with it given how kind he was being. The pictures are the prison and scenery on the way.

So India was a bust...

Hygiene in India

I miss India. I've missed it since the day I left for Nepal, even though I was over the moon excited to be going back to see my friends and favourite places again. There's just something about India that makes me yearn for it and which prompts me to write about it again.

 

My most recent trip to India was my third. I'm often asked "why would you want to go there?!`` People just don't get it. Unfortunately many people still have the perception that India is nothing but dirty, polluted and overpopulated. Now sure, India can be those things depending on where you go, but I hope from my pictures that one can see the beauty of the country; not only in terms of the landscape, but also the culture, customs, traditions and people (minus stalkers) which makes this country so amazing. I can admit that it isn't for everyone, but for me it's a fascinating place that can both overwhelm and stimulate your senses, that provides non-stop learning about a different world and life and which makes you think differently about your own.

 

 

I'm going to try and give you a glimpse of India as I see it; the endearing, unique, odd, and fascinating things about India....

 

Well, why not start with the ol' butt hose! Now the butt hose isn't unique to India, as I have vivid memories of freezing my ass off (literally) when I used it in Nepal. Seriously, that water was as cold as if it had come from the Antarctic (although in all actuality it was probably from the highest point of the Himalayas). Now imagine getting a high pressured spray up the ol" arse with that!! As my mother would say....."BITCH!!" Sorry if that's too graphic, but you should know by now that this blog is not so PG.

 

 

Ok so the deal is, Indians don't use toilet paper. In the little suburb of Mysore where my homestay was, no toilet paper could be found. You literally had to take a bus into the city or another suburb where tourists live to buy it. Instead, they spray and drip dry. Now, in my opinion, the butt hose plus toilet paper is a better idea to ensure you don't walk away with a wet crotch, but hey, it works for them. And personally, I love it.! It may put some plumbers out of work here in North America if it caught on, with all those plugged lines from the 4 ply toilet paper that we use, but I think we should give it a try. I'm not too shy to admit that I can't wait to get hosed on my next trip :)

Well that's a good segue into talking about squat toilets. Nothing scares tourists in India more than toilets; specifically squat toilets. I don't think I need to explain what those are. Now granted, if you're the type that likes to take the ol`National Geographic to the can and sit for a half hour, then the squat isn't for you, but otherwise, I would say it rocks! Once again, it's very hygienic. I think we can all agree that sitting on a toilet seat is a bad idea no matter where you are in the world. And when you put toilet paper down on the seat it always falls off (plus there is none in India). And finally, squatting over the toilet is just plain hard to do.

With the squat you can get down on the ol' haunches and giver like you're from Swan River. And, once again, it's very hygienic cuz you're not touching anything. Now, for girls, trying not to pee on yourself can certainly be a challenge. That I will admit. Especially when you're on a moving train that's rocking from side to side while you're grabbing on to a hand rail (that you need to sanitize your hand from a few times after finishing) and trying to get it in the hole that leads to the train tracks that you're watching go by as you do your business. Now that's an entertaining visual for you I'm sure, and just as entertaining for the person involved I can assure you. It's kinda like being on a Bucking Bronco. Bottom line is that I still love the squat.

Now I'm not quite done with the bathroom because the other unique thing about India is the bucket shower. Unlike Canada where we are privileged to have (in our minds), an unlimited amount of water, Indians aren't so lucky. First of all the demand for water is huge with a population of more than a billion people. And some areas, like Northern Karnataka, barely have any. So they have to conserve water in any way they can.

For those that have their own home and water supply (I say that because millions don't have that luxury either), the common practice is to use the actual shower space to "shower" but not via free falling water like we are used to. Rather they fill a bucket of water and rinse themselves off with it using a measuring cup.

Now I reallllly love showering..it's surely one of my favourite things. So I wasn't the most excited about showering for months with a bucket. Well I'm proud to admit that I adapted easily and grew to appreciate it, also taking pride in that I didn't even need a full bucket. Really, as long as I have hot water I'm good. I can admit that I have gone back to a "normal" shower back in Canada but, I am always mindful of water and try and use as little as possible. So if you see someone giving you the evil eye in a public washroom for running water while you're busy doing something else, it's likely me!!

So, that pretty much covers toileting and shower issues. I'm certainly not done with India yet though...and with Pumpkin Spice Lattes being in season at Starbucks, there will sure to be more to come. It's great to be back!