After the FALL!!! (February 21st)

On the 20th (which would have been my mother's 101st birthday), one of the members of the DREAM TEAM from France - Michel Jean Gamet, had noticed that I was favoring my right leg and came to chat with me.  He asked if I would like to borrow a knee compression bandage to maybe help strengthen my knee, and to reduce the stress from it.  I accepted his generous offer and on the morning of the 21st (my daughter's birthday) I pulled on the compression bandage up over my right knee and then continued to get dressed.  Although it was considerably earlier than most of the other members of the Team were up and about, I decided to go outside my tent and have a look around.  Big mistake.  BIG Mistake!

When leaving my tent, I first tripped over the "threshold" at the entrance, began falling forward, tripped on a tree root which had poked itself up through the indoor-outdoor carpeting in front of my tent, went to grab the tent pole and slipped off of that (because of the early morning dew) and propelled forward (kind of like the Roadrunner cartoon character, where his legs are fiercely moving in a fast-forward circular motion, to the point of being a blur) and succeeded in surging forward about forty or fifty feet and SPLATTING on the wet, slippery ground, crashing down on my right knee cap!  This was NOT a pretty sight. As I lay there helpless, I seriously felt I had smashed my patella, and was worried that I would not be able to work.

Sanjay, the owner of the tents, happened to be out walking around the site, and saw me splatter on the ground.  He and another man came over to me and very carefully lifted me to my feet, which at best were shaking and not conducive to standing.  They propped me up for a few moments and then the three of us walked back over to my tent, where I sat down outside.  If only I FELT like a football star being helped off the field by the coach and trainer, but no such luck.  I hurt badly and just felt plain stupid for tripping like I had.  Good thing I had put on that compression bandage, right? 

A little while later, I limped over to the dining tent and had my breakfast with the rest of the members of the Team.  Although Sanjiv (my counterpart in India and the trip organizer) urged me to return to my tent and rest for the day, I insisted that nothing could get done unless I was a part of the group working, so I respectfully declined.  Once I hobbled over to the work site, I realized that I could stand pretty well and pass (toss) basins of masala, as long as I stood with my right leg bent a slight bit, and I could take the pressure off my knee. 

"Ice?" you say?  Nothing could be further from reality.  We barely had cool water, to say nothing of ice for an ice pack to keep the swelling down.  I was strictly dependent upon the compression bandage and decided not to remove it until the very last day, hoping beyond hope that there was no permanent damage and that the swelling was kept to a minimum. 

Another of the very hard, diligent, stoic workers (from the hired crew) was a man who carried huge rocks on his head, and then dumped them (tossed them off his head forward) into the pit where we were working.  How thankful I was that I was not carrying this weight on MY head!  Sometimes THREE men had to lift the boulder onto his head before he moved to carry it to the pit.  As one of my team members said about him, "He just continues to smile, and perhaps is thinking to himself that maybe, just maybe this will be the last big rock he is asked to carry!"

 

Our very own Peanut Gallery!

Tradition is, when we have helped to construct the first three water catchment dams in India, (and why should this one be any different) that the local young men hang out and "observe" what we Rotarians are doing.  It is an unfortunate tradition, but one, nonetheless, which exists.  The day we began working on the dam construction, Kay from Nebraska was one of the first to arrive on site.  You can tell from the look on her face, that she is NOT impressed!

 

As we all began to gather, those of us who had worked on these projects in the past three years were not surprised to see our "rock pile" for the coming week of work.  Other than the digging out of the area where we would be working, and the hauling of the water tank for helping to mix the concrete (masala), the only other mechanized part of this project was the tractor which brought our daily dose of rocks or limestone dust. 

One of the first tasks to get everyone acclimated with the project is to learn the teamwork approach to the passing of "masala" (concrete mix). Lines are formed, and although initially, folks believe that passing from one's left to one's right is easier, they soon come to realize that the passing goes much more smoothly, and therefore, more efficiently, if folks stand apart but opposite one another and kind of get in the "swing" of tossing a basin of masala to the next one in line. 

This process does take a bit of getting used to, saying nothing of building trust that the person who is tossing TO you will not simple heave it, but do it in a respectful manner, as you will in turn toss to the next one in the line.  Of course, there is also the need for the "returnables" to be tossed back, in order for the diggers to refill the basins.  There is a certain level of precision which is required for this task, as well, since one does not want to simply fling an empty basin back toward the masala pile, for fear of cracking someones skull in the process!

Once this process is understood, and people are into their rhythm, it is generally time for a song - I've Been Working on the Railroad, or Row, Row, Row Your Boat or the all-time favorite of the French members of the team, Alouette.  This year, we actually had a number of pretty good singers, and this always makes for a jollier and more productive time!

Out of the "hired group" of workers, there were two in particular that I would like to mention.  First, is a young man, by the name of Santos, who until the final day, I did not realize he is the youngest son of Goberdhan - the crew supervisor.  Santos was one of the two mixers of masala, standing barefoot in the limestone dust, and then going with Myesh to pick up two sacks of cement (each fifty kilos), cut them open and begin mixing with the limestone dust.  He dug into the pile with a vengeance and kept circling round and round, making sure the mix was the right consistency.  I noticed his right arm was severely scarred and two of his fingers were paralyzed almost in a claw-like manner.  There was something else about Santos which made him unique - his left arm had been cut off just below the elbow.  Having said this, however, Myesh and he were equal in their production and unless one stopped to look at Santos, one would never have imagined his handicap. 

Once I learned that he was a part of the family and the younger brother of Dinesh, I took the time to inquire about what had happened.  I was told that he was involved in a freak and horrific electrical accident, and was hospitalized for three months, recovering from severe brain damage, to say nothing of the damage to his arms and hand. 

Day One was accomplished and we all returned to our respective tents, where we all stretched out on our cots and took a brief nap.  Some also broke out some libations and enjoyed them before dinner was served in the dining tent.
 

So THIS is where we will call home for the next few days?

Once the bus driver began traveling down the road, through the tiny village, it seemed as though we were getting further and further away from civilization.  We had been given directions by Sanjiv to follow a particular toad for about 11 kilometers and then begin looking for signs which he had posted along the road.  I was kind of checking out the odometer and at about 6 kilometers, we approached a "toll booth" of sorts, a little building parked in the middle of the road. Our driver did not want to pay any tolls, so he stopped to ask directions to our dam site. I whispered to Bani that I thought we had only gone about half the distance we needed to travel before seeing the signs.  He urged the driver to continue down the road, and pay the toll and sure enough, in about five kilometers, we saw the first ROTARY DREAM TEAM sign on the left side of the road.  It was somewhat obscured by the team of water buffaloes stopping for "relief" on that side of the road, but I spotted the sign, indicating one lilometer further. When we saw the next sign, we were directed to turn left for one more kilometer. We noticed oncoming traffic of huge dump trucks, loaded with stone, approaching us and as we turned onto the side road (liberal use of the term "road") as far as we could see in the dark of night, were the headlights of oncoming trucks with cargo of stone!  Then the fun began!

I also noticed that we seemed to be "bucking" a bit and checked out the road ahead, and it was like driving through the Mud Bowl! We are talking rutss of at least a foot to a foot-and-a-half in depth.  I checked out the bus driver's expression and it was NOT a pleasant one, to say the least.  He maneuvered as best he could, again with the problem of oncoming truck after truck.  Then, for no apparent reason, we stopped.  Horns honking, beeping, creating a cacophony of sound - "just letting you know I am here" or "get out of the way" or "do you really want me to dump my load in front of you or better yet, on top of you?" Each horn has its own meaning and the drivers of buses and trucks and cars understand this "language".  We continued to look out the windows of our bus to see the goings-on outside.  The driver called out to someone on the other side of the road, only to learn that a truck further down the road had suffered a "puncture" (flat tire) and that someone was bringing along the tire to be repaird, at a "shop" across from where we were parked in the middle of the road. Anything is possible in India!

A few minutes later, a tiny truck arrived and had as its cargo, not the tire in need of repair, but the entire truck axle.  This was going to be a very long process.  However, in a few minutes, traffic began to move again, and we soldiered on, inch by inch. Again, the bucking bronco effect began and our driver was attempting to remain on top of the ruts, doing his best to balance so we would not get mired down in the depths.  The driver looked more and more worried, or should I say disgusted and at one point, he simply stopped the bus, turned off the motor and refused to go any further.  Well this caused a bit of a problem because we were still about half a kilometer from the camp site.  Frantic calls were made to contact Sanjiv in order to mediate the situation. Problem was that not all phones work in the remote areas.  We were able to reach Sanjiv who spoke with the driver.  The driver, in turn, decided to stand out in the middle of this pit and stop an oncoming jeep-type vehicle, asking to be driven further down the road so he could assess the situation.  After all, why would anyone drive his or her vehicle further, if the mud ruts were only going to get deeper, UNLESS, of course, one was into the sport of "muddin'"!

Our driver returned shortly and indicated this was the end of the road for his vehicle and we would have to make other arrangements.  In the meanwhile, I looked out and saw a familiar face - that of Dinesh, the son of Goverdahn, who was in charge of the crew constructing the dam.  He seemed very pleased to see me and indicated we would be met by others from the camp, in small jeep-type vehicles and ferried to the camp site.  It was only a few minutes more before the two vehicles were packed to the max with our team members and some of the bags.  The rest would come later once we were all transported to the camp site.  I suppose we could have walked the remaining distance, but in the dark of night, with only two of us having had previous experience in walking down country roads in India in the middle of the night, we were probably wise to accept the rides.

We finally bumped down the path-road (if there is such a term) until reaching a point where literally dozens of young men were crowding to see us as we disembarked from the jeeps.  Corrugated metal sheets were being hammered onto fence posts, in order to identify the boundary between "us" and "them". Sanjiv was there to greet us, as well as his wife, Jyotsna and his sister, Olie. Also, four of the members of the team from France had previously arrived and it was good to see other familiar faces.  The location of our tent village had been created by skimming off the top-soil and the setting out tents around the perimeter.  I had been told by the owner of the tent company, while we were in Nagaur, it had been quite difficult to set up this site, due to unseasonal rains the previous week, and I could see what he meant, particularly during our drive (?) through the mud pit!  The surface was skiddy and muddy and one had to take care while walking.  Even though it felt like the middle of the night, it was only a bit after seven, so we were shown to our respective tents and told dinner woul dbe served within the hour, in the dining tent.  I had more bags than anyone else, because I was carrying all of the team work tee shirts, as well as the team shirts for the NID, scheduled for the 24th.  It looked as though I would be staying for at least six months, I am sure.

 

Hi Ho, Hi Ho...

Wednesday the 20th and we are on the way to work!!!

Even though I am normally a very early riser, the rest of the team seemed a bit draggy when we all gathered in the hotel lobby to check out and then take three vans to the railway station.  That train experience was to be about a four hour ride to the pink city of Jaipur, but this was not the entire trip - not by any stretch of the imagination.  When we arrived at the train station, we then had to cross to the other side, and exit to the street, where a few blocks away, our original bus was awaiting our arrival.  We recognized our porter, but the driver was a man we had not previously seen.  He was hired to drive unto the outskirts of the city and then we would be met by our regular driver who would drive us to the dam site. We would be driving for at least six hours and manyof the roads would be considered not much better than wood roads. 

Bani asked me about when we might consider taking lunch and we discussed the various options available to us: we could drive for two hours and the take a lunch, and then have four or five more hours to reach our destination OR we could "push on through" and only stop for "potty" breaks, and perhaps long enough to buy some snacks. Discussion ensued and a vote was called and unanimously, it was decided to push on through, in hopes of reaching the campsite before sundown. 

For some reason, most of India was on the road that day, and all traveling between Jaipur and Sohna. Even once we would arrive in Sohna, we would still have about an hour to drive on to the campsite. Well, technically speaking, anyway! Once again, our driver more or less glided in and around huge trucks loaded with stone or men on motorcycles, with the greatest of agility. Our porter was very attentive and skilled at directing the driver what lay ahead, but might not be within his view. 

At about five o'clock, we were approaching the turn off toward Mewat, where we would follow that road until we reached a few crowded villages, strewn with produce carts, chicken cages, tire carts, carpenters planing down teak wood doors, children pushing along their wheeled carts, little girls wearing their school uniforms and walking hand in hand. Folks in our group remarked about the prevalence of bright (safety) orange saris. Slowly, members of the team began to bond, learning more about each other and individual Rotary Clubs, families, previous "mission" trips, etc.

THEN, we arrived in the nearby town to the damsite and began looking for signs directing us to the road which passed by our destination. 

So this is MEDICARE...

Welcome to MEDICARE (19 February 2013)

Never in my wildest dreams did I believe I would reach the age of sixty-five, nor did I think I would ever qualify to participate in the Medicare program provided to senior citizens in the United States.  Well, here I am - yup, I made it!!!

My day began with a telephone call from my daughter, wishing me a Happy Birthday. This was followed by another telephone call from my wife. The final call of the early morning came from my eleven year old grandson. What a treat, to hear birthday greetings from the three most important people in my life!  Earlier, at about 4:30 I had ventured down to the manager's office in order to connect to the WiFi offered.  I wanted to check Email, as well as Facebook entries. It is amazing to count the number of people from all parts of the world who take the time to send birthday wishes. Thanks to all of them.

Breakfast was in the hotel dining room, at the Himmatgarh Palace Hotel, with the other team members and Andreas and Beatrix Eickhoff from Germany brought me a gift from their home town, a brass replica of a coal miner's lamp and two beautiful magazines promoting their home city. Really interesting to read about how the government in their city had repurposed several of the relics of the past Industrial Age of the area, most notably the conversion of the old water tower into an art museum! Wow, now THAT is vision!

We all then boarded our bus to be driven to the city of Jodhpur. It was going to be a very long ride and I was experiencing a queasy stomach so just wanted to fall asleep on the trip for a few hours. The plan was to drive for three or four hours and then stop for a long lunch and then continue driving for a few more hours, when we would reach our hotel in Jodhpur. After some discussion, we voted to more or less drive straight through, with only a pit stop and perhaps a short stop for buying snacks. 

When we finally reached the"blue city" of Jodhpur, the fort loomed ahead of us on the top of the hill. We met our new guide for the afternoon, and were pleased to be reunited with our teammate, Cornelia Stockman, who had separated from us a few days prior, in order to visit a project supported by her Rotary Club, that was located in Bikaner. She had brought about one thousand pencils to give to the children at the school. She had several experiences to share with us as we walked to visit the famous crematorium in Jodhpur that looked more like a white marble monument, with smaller sandstone monuments nearby. This was the location of what we in America might refer to as a cemetery, and used almost strictly by the royal family members. There were also two very modern looking monuments, made of white marble and enclosed within a wrought iron fenced area, and topped with a tiny horse. I asked about these and our guide explained that one of the members of the royal family was a renowned polo player, who had been killed in an accident, along with his fellow teammate and so both had monuments constructed there.

 From the crematorium, we then traveled to the city fort for a tour.  Once more, the facades on the exterior of the fort, as well as within its towering walls where princes and maharajahs and their many wives and mistresses all lived, provided an amazing spectacle for all to appreciate.  Again, to imagine living in the ages through literally hundreds of years, when these places were thriving would boggle the mind.  

We descended from the top level of the fort, stopping en route at the government sponsored shops which were cleverly located between the top level with its magnificent vistas, and  filled with wonderful and expensive souvenirs and gift items. Because of the great love of polo in Jodhpur, many of the items were reflective of the sport. Although we heard about it and saw photos in the museum, we never had the opportunity to witness a real and close-up game of Elephant Polo.

The winding passageway back to the street level took quite a good deal of time, because the elevator was no longer operational at that time and the steep slope of the cobblestone "street" was almost treacherous because of the centuries of wear, augmented by elephant dung and other waste, ground into the stones. We all made it back to our awaiting bus, without incident.

We then were driven to our hotel, the Ranbanka Palace, another of the Heritage hotels in India. Of the hotels where we had stayed, the rooms at this hotel were by far the nicest. My accommodations included a bathroom that was about fifteen by twenty feet in size and had a very long and deep bathtub, as well as a shower that could accommodate about a dozen people!  We all we to meet in the dining room for dinner, but decided it was warm enough to sit outside in the garden and enjoy my birthday dinner under the stars.  A troupe of Rajasthany folk dancers entertained us, and even sang a version of Happy Birthday to me.  Since we were having a very realty wake up call, we all decided to call it a day. 

The call came very, very early, at 4:30, since we had to check out of the hotel no later than 5:10 and then be on our way to the railway station to catch the train to Jaipur, which was departing the station at 6:10.  This was yet another new experience for the members of the team.

Later on the 18th

Later on the 18th at the Sam Sand Dunes (18 February )

After we finished  shopping at the government controlled haveli, we jumped back into our respective "Tuk-Tuks" and headed back to where the bus had been parked. On our walk back to where the "Tuk-Tuks" were parked, we waited alongside the narrow street as a procession passed by us. We had been told about an hour before that a person had died at one of the homes up a side alley.  While we were touring part of the city, the body had been properly prepared, draped in the white shroud, covered with flowers and the family and friends had gathered at the home, all of them dressed in white, and then followed the carried litter with the body of the deceased, in a procession which led through the streets to the place for the cremation. What an amazing experience to be peripherally involved with the grieving of a family who had lost a loved one.

After boarding our chariots, we were whisked through winding city streets and alleys back to our bus. Then we headed west out to the Sam Sand Dunes, about twenty miles east of the border with Pakistan!  Both mornings, shortly after I got out of bed, I could hear jet fighter planes roaring up and back along both sides of the border. Anyway, we arrived at a camel caravan stop on the side of the highway, and were escorted to several camels and their drivers who seemed to be waiting for us. We had all nonchalantly agreed to take camels that afternoon, but most probably didn't pay much attention to what we had agreed to do. We were assigned to our own camel and climbed up into the saddles and leaned way back as the driver coaxed our steeds onto their feet!  Once all aboard, we followed the long line of camels with riders out into the desert and out onto the dunes. It was anticipated that we might be riding until sunset. My camel was a huge bull who seemed to be rather intolerant of other camels  and continually walked over to another camel to nip at the tail of his "cousin" or to sidle up to another and be almost noodling face to face. There must have been at least two hundred camels who were ferrying us to our viewing destination. It is always good to pause for a moment or two, to take stock of one's life and situation and to be grateful for what opportunities are presented to us to experience and enjoy.  This was one of those moments... to imagine sitting atop a "ship of the desert", riding westward to view one of nature's miracles (even though a daily occurrence) a sunset!  I remember as a youngster, going to the movies to see AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS, and marveling at being lifted skyward in a hot air balloon and wondering if i would ever enjoy a camel ride and view the sunsets of the desert. Well, here I was! Is this what could qualify as something on my Bucket List?

Once the sun receded, we enjoyed dinner at a new encampment, which was owned by friends of Ummed. It was a tent village resort, near the dunes but nobody seemed to be staying there at present - most likely because it had only recently opened and was not "known" as a destination on the circuit. Dinner was enjoyable, and included musical and dance entertainment provided by some Rajasthany instrumentalists and dancers. There was a male dancer who wowed us with his fire-eating talents, and a young woman dancer who danced barefoot on broken glass shards while balancing a tower of pots on her head. What was fascinating to some of us was the young boy, maybe of fourteen years of age, who was learning to play some of the instruments, among them the "bones" (wooden sticks that were somewhat curved, two of which were held in each hand and clapped or snapped as a percussion to the music). The boy was new to the instrument and although he could snap them for creating a dramatic exclamation to a musical phrase, he had not yet mastered the art of a continuo of muffled percussion. It was interesting to watch the boy attempting to emulate the older players, and in turn encouraging to watch as the older players were endearingly observing the boy to make sure he did it right.

Following dinner and the show, we boarded the bus to return to Jaisalmer and be taken to a family-owned silver jewelry shop that was being opened just for us by the owner and the family who lived upstairs over the shop. I had remembered being able to purchase some antique silver pieces back in 2007, at bargain prices and was hoping to be able to score another few items again. Suffice it to say, although we were at the shop well past 10:30 at night, we were not tremendously successful. The rest of the team returned to the hotel bus while I stayed behind a bit longer and almost fled through the dark alleys and streets in a Tuk-Tuk. 

The following day promising to be a long one, as well as my 65th birthday, I was grateful to fall onto my bed for some rest, even if as it turned out, for only a few hours.

Jaisalmer - The Golden City

 February 18, 2013

From Nagaur, we rode in our bus to the city of Jaisalmer, a city I had visited six years ago, with another Dream Team.  When we approached the city, the location of the oldest "living" fort in all of India, we looked up at the top of the hill to see the amazing battlements, constructed of the local material - sandstone.  My recollection is that there are ninety-nine battlement "turrets" which surround the city. 

We first met our guide, Ummed, who rode a short distance with us to the lake that had been created in the early fourteenth century. Close to the water's edge were a number of dome-covered platforms, presumably where the moguls from centuries past, stood and reviewed parades of people coming to the lake for various ceremonies, primarily cremations. Ummed explained the custom of what occurs when someone who is a Hindu dies. The body is wrapped in white cloth and strewn with flowers and carried by the family to the water's edge, lowered and set alight and burned (or cremated). The ashes are then collected and placed into a pottery pot and eventually the family carries those final remains to the banks of the Ganges, where they are finally disbursed and the soul of the deceased is released. Ummed's explanations of the local customs and culture were detailed and so helpful to us to better understand and appreciate. 

From the lake, we then climbed steps to a small Hindu temple, where we were invited to enter, without our shoes, and to hear the chanting of the priest. Ummed again explaining all the while about the entry into the temple and the surroundings inside. We were allowed to take photos, and when Ummed explained to the priest that the following day was my birthday, he offered to pray for me and to give me his blessing. He smeared both red and yellow cum cum powder tikkas on my forehead, as well as rice, and then tied red threads around my right wrist (joining other such threads, some of which have been the since 2003!) I felt so blessed to be able to receive his prayers.

Once we boarded our bus, we were then driven to the gates for the city and entered and climbed the snake path to the top, passing shops and tea rooms and some small hotels on the way to the summit. At each gate, we learned more about Jaisalmer-Ummed's home city. At one such gate, I believe it was called Ganesha's gate, three holy men sat outside and raised their hands toward us, inviting photos and, of course, the small payment of appreciation for the privilege of taking the photos. When we descended the winding street, we then were driven in "Tuk-Tuks" to the restaurant, where we enjoyed local cuisine, including desert beans and rice. From the restaurant's top floor terrace room, we were able to look out below and see women digging in the dirt and working on reconstruction projects. With the entire city constructed of sandstone, using no mortar, through time, the walls have seriously deteriorated and begun to crumble. Restoration is a huge and time-consuming project that might be finished in a few decades. The amazing carved sandstone facades looked more like finely carved wooden screens, belying the fact that the perishable and porous material if properly treated can withstand the test of time.

We toured the narrow streets of the city, viewing the outside of the famous Havelis, each one more elaborately carved than the previous one. The Havelis could tell their own stories. One question that arose was how the white marble used in the construction of the Havelis facades looked so much like a golden teak wood. It was explained that once finished, the white marble was "painted" with a solution made up of water and the dung and urine of cows (not bulls). This solution not only gave a golden tint to the carved walls, but also helped to coat the walls with a protective shield.

Two of these buildings are undergoing substantial restoration as a result of former Prime Minister Indira Ghandi's family having purchased the buildings and pledging hundreds of thousands of dollars to the project. Inside one of the Havelis, we found a government regulated shop, where we were shown beautiful silk spreads, wall hangings and of course, pashmina shawls. It was explained to us the difference between real Pashmina and that made of viscous threads. Several in the group purchased various items and when we finally left, we were told we had to leave for the desert, where we would enjoy our next adventure!

70,000 camels... REALLY? The kind you can smoke???

Following breakfast, the members of the team followed Bani out the gate, first to be assaulted by the locals selling the very best genuine fake jewelry. After successfully fending off the hookers ( really, that is the local's term for these entrepreneurs) we turned left and suddenly I realized that the lowing of the cattle the previous night had emanated from several head of cattle, right outside our gate.  What I did NOT expect was the blustering and the coughing of the next beasts we saw.

The Nagaur Agricultural Fair is an annual event where "farmers" bring their horses, cows, bulls and yes, of course, their camels for enter of the largest trade shows of its type in the world! I have never seen so many camels, but my guesstimate was roughly 20,000 of these creatures, which appear to have been assembled by a committee.  Everywhere we looked, there were camels and their handlers. There were blackish ones, tan ones, coffee brown ones, tall ones, really tall ones, baby calls, bulls, cows and you name it. There were plain ones and fancy ones with tattoos, there were those who were literally festooned in pompoms and there were ones that had been shaved on their sides leaving rather elaborate and intricate patterns to attract one's eye.  There were even some that one could swear  had mascara and their eye lashes curled!  I am not joking.  This gathering of even-toed ungulates was something straight out of central casting from a Cecil B. deMille extravaganza. We watched as buyers and sellers bartered, or is a better term haggled... The wads of cash were plentiful and the barking taking place, as a price was agreed to, only to change when the actual stack of the 500 rupee notes were counted off, and came up a few short.  We watched as one owner had his camel performing for the crowd. A couple of jockeys galloped their "steeds" up and down the fairways. I was informed that a good buy on an exceptional camel was $20,000 and there would be several such sales.  We wandered through the tents and observed the booths where camel saddles were being sold, as well as bridles and blankets.

I was also informed that during the ten days of this agricultural fair, that between 75,000 and 80,000 camels will be brought, bought and sold. Pretty impressive number!

We moved into the cattle sections and then tried to find the dancing horse! Seriously!

It was time to head back to our tent village located on the periphery of the fair, to have some lunch and then be prepared to board our bus for the next destination - the Golden City of Jaisalmer. 

You have arrived!

Returning to our half-day journey in the van, Linda and I finally realized we were getting close to our destination, as we turned onto a road that led us through literally hundreds if not thousands of cattle. It was difficult to determine, since it was pitch-dark outside, but we saw a sign with a large arrow, pointing us off the road and down a very dusty path and ending at an enclosure "gate" made of  brightly colored fabric. This signaled us that we had, at last, arrived at the tent village where we would stay for the next two nights.  Bani, who works for HiPoints, was there to greet us, as well as the owner of the tent company, who remembered us from the previous year.

Although the rest of the Dream Team had turned in for the night, our bags were taken to our respective tents and we were directed to the "dining" tent for a very late dinner.  Bani had waited to eat with us which was most thoughtful.  Although we ate very little, it felt good to finally reach the team, whom we were sure had some amazing tales to share with us the following morning.

When I arrived at my tent,  I was pleased that the porters had placed a hot-water bottle inside my bed.  Since we were tenting in the desert, it could get very chilly and sleeping in a warm cot was a bonus.  Sleep being the operative word, it was an elusive one at best.  There were lots of strange sounds, kind of like cattle lowing, but also off in the distance, piercing the quiet of the night, were the very strident sounds of a Rajasthany troubadour, wailing his story, not unlike some of the emotional "stories" told in our own country-western music.  One or two songs would have done it for me, but this was not to be... The "singing" continued on, throughout the night, even until the dawning of a new day!

Both Linda and I wandered down to the dining tent and were greeted by other members of our team, who had lots of questions about our experiences from our Saturday.

Bani announced that we would be leaving for a walk-about at the Nagaur Fair, in a short while, and we should get ready for a 9:30 departure.  

Police reports and then some!!!

Have you ever been inside a police station in India? Well, up until the 16th, neither had I.  Following breakfast with the rest of the team on Saturday morning, most of them boarded a bus and departed for the airport to then fly to Jodhpur. Since Linda had lost her passport, she could not board a plane to fly anywhere, and since the American embassy is closed on the weekends AND it is Presidents' Day on the 18th, nothing can be done to issue her a new passport until the 19th at the earliest!  That meant Linda would have to remain in Delhi for the weekend, doing ton thing and not partaking of the sights and sounds and smells of the places we were to visit.  It only seemed right that I also stay behind, arrange for her to go to the police station and file an official report and then see what we could sort out for the rest of the weekend.

I spoke with Sanjiv and indicated that I would stay back, work with Linda in getting the report filed and then we could hire a driver to take us to Nagaur to meet up with the rest of the Dream Team. "Elias, do you have any idea how far that is to drive? It takes between twelve and fourteen hours!" Well, so be it. This is the only plan which made sense to me so we implemented it.

The rest of the team departed for the airport, after I removed my bags from the bus, and Linda and I had a driver take us to the police station.  When we arrived, we were told that it was the wrong police station end that we had to go to another one on the other side of the city from where we were to file the report. The driver took us to the station near Connaught Place. When we arrived and walked through the gate we smelled what seemed to be "weed" being smoked but I am sure it was simply some street people who were "easing the pain" outside the confines of the station. Our escort took us into the station and we began the process of filling out the paperwork. Without going into detail, this process took about an hour and then we left to be driven to another part of the city to meet our new driver for the long journey west.


We met up with Rakesh and boarded his van, somewhat cramped on the inside, but what would be our home for the next half-day! Linda and I talked about our Rotary Club projects and other travel experiences as we headed toward Gurgaon, where we would meet yet another driver, who would ferry us through some horrific construction areas.  Little did I know what we were about to experience. It seems that for the past decade, roadways in India have been under major construction. One of the objects of this construction is to build "fly-overs" in then congested areas of towns located between major cities. These "fly-overs" will move traffic along, even while local traffice will be diverted off the main roads in order to move everyone along at a more efficient pace. The interim, however, creates cavernous ditches, which if one were not careful, one could have his or her vehicle totally swallowed up!!!

Our "new" driver was temporary, but particularly skilled in maneuvering around and through this new congestion. I took some photos and a video out the window, but have not been able to upload it to my iPad to include in this posting. Possibly at a later date.

The first stint in the van was just under 4.5 hours and when we had travelled around the city of Jaipur, on the bypass, I suggested we should stop for getting out of the vehicle and possibly grabbing something to eat.  We had already dropped off the other driver, and when Rakesh located a "restaurant" on the side of  the road, we pulled into the parking area.  He kindly opened my door and I found I was unable to move. I had been cramped into the back seat behind him for over four hours and had lost all mobility! He helped me out of the van, but I was not sure if my legs would hold me without buckling. A few minutes of just standing and leaning against the van worked and I was finally able to walk to the restaurant. Both Linda and I had to use the facilities, which were, in and of themselves, "rustic".  We then came out to the open area and washed our hands at the wink next to the garden!

We went in to sit at me of the tables in the restaurant and could not read the menu,but decided to have some fried rice and some garlic and buttered Nan. Although neither of us wanted a soft drink, the restaurant served no beer, wines or spirits, so we settled for bottles of Coca Cola. We finished up our snack and returned to the van for the next leg of our journey.  During that part of the ride, I remembered the telephone number if a friend in Jaipur and called him. He was pleased to hear from me, asked

Lots of new "experiences"

Well I am sitting here in the business center of the Hotel Royal Plaza in Delhi, having eaten a hearty breakfast and re-packing two suitcases which I will leave behind for a few days, to be brought out to the dam site tents on the 20th.

Eight of us arrived after flying in from Newark. It was an interesting "experience" because our flight was delayed for over an hour due to "mechanical" difficulties.  When I saw the captain and first mate leaving the boarding area, I decided to find out just what was going on. I learned that our plane had come into Newark that morning from Mumbai and was full of mosquitoes!!! Well it was necessary to spray for the little beasts and everything was thought to be alright. Not so! Wen our flight crew boarded the plane to prepare it, they discovered the spraying had been unsuccessful and the plane still was infested.  They contact the exterminators who came and  re-sprayed the plane. We had to wait for about an hour for the pesticide to work.  

In the meanwhile, while we were waiting, all of us wearing our "safety green" work tee shirts, emblazoned with the Rotary emblem and our slogan, "ROTARIANS ARE DAM COMMITTED", the is little doubt than anyone could have missed us.  Several folks came up to us to say that they were Rotarians and to find out what we were all doing on our way to India. There was one man who came to us, who had just given his classification talk at his Rotary Club that day. He was on his way to Idia for raising awareness of Autism and he was almost in tears to learn that we were all Americans but were going to India at our own expense to immunize Indian children against polio.  His name was Vijay.  

Then a woman spoke to me and her name is Sarah Sweetwater. She was so pleased to meet us and know what we were doing, not only as a Rotarian but also as a polio survivor herself. She plans to travel with us next year!

Finally, an Indian gentleman approached me and called me by name. He said he heard my voice and recognized me from my voice and that he had heard me speak at a district conference in North Carolina a few years ago, and because of my message, had decided to join a different group of Rotarians from his own district, coming to immunize children against polio.

Time to board, a I was upgraded to first class where I happily was able to sleep on an extended seat-bed for several hours. I was very grateful for the upgrade and didn't ask "why?"  While in my seat, I actually was able to reach out and swipe and kill a couple of mosquitoes who had missed the toxins!

Upon our arrival, we all went through customs and immigration at Indira Ghandi airport and were met by Bani from HiPoints in the reception area.  We were guided to our bus and traveled through the dark streets and arrived at our hotel. Others from our group arrived at different times and we would see them in the morning.  

When I came down for breakfast, I met Linda Bertuzzi and Colleen Baird from Las Vegas.  They had arrived shortly after we had, but had encountered a "new experience" - namely, Linda had lost her passport, wallet, credit cards, cash, etc. between the airport and the hotel. She is panicky to say the least, but I am confident that our United States Embassy will straighten out the entire situation and she will be joining us later on.  Pete and Kim Miller are off for a few days on their own, and the members of our team from France, who are currently skiing in the northern part of India, will all meet us on the 20th at the damsite.  

We are off now to Jodhpur by flight, and then to participate in the festivals ongoing there and then on to Jaisalmer.   

So far, it has been a wonderful journey, with a few bumps in the road!

DOWN TO THE WIRE...

It is now 4:30 in the morning, Thursday, February 14th, and I am sitting here at my office, writing the last BLOG entry, before leaving for the airport in Boston, to fly to Newark, where I will meet up with several of the DREAM TEAM members from the USA, who will be flying out this evening on United Flight 82, direct to Delhi.  We will arrive in Delhi, Friday, February 15th, at about 10:30 in the evening, to be greeted by several Rotarians from the Rotary Club of Delhi-Megapolis and then transported to our hotel for a few hours of sleep before we then get up in the morning, have breakfast and then travel on to Jodhpur and Jaisalmer - the GOLDEN CITY, in the state of Rajasthan, and close to the border with Pakistan.  There we will visit sites, such as the Jaisalmer Fort, which unlike many forts in India, is considered a "living fort" - complete with shops and restaurants, etc.

Following a tradition of about nine years, those of us who are flying out this evening will all gather in front of Gallagher's Steakhouse in Concourse C at Newark's Liberty Airport.  Once there, we will enjoy a dinner in the banquet room, getting to know one another better, and renewing past friendships.  There are shirts to distribute and the new iteration of our working TEE Shirt will be shared for the first time.  Undoubtedly, in the coming postings in this BLOG, you will be able to view the new shirts and possibly get a laugh out of our new slogan.

Before signing in to this BLOG, I checked and had received an Email from The Rotary Foundation indicating that most of the funds had arrived and been processed through the system.  Now, once the remaining funds are processed, we will receive notice that the funding is approved for release and be able to move forward with our dam building project.

Yesterday was ASH WEDNESDAY, the official beginning of the Lenten Season in the Christian Church.  I attended services at my own church, and strangely closer to the place we would call "home" for the next fifteen days.  When the priest marked each of us with a smudge of ashes (made from burning the palms from the previous Palm Sunday) in the form of a cross, my mind returned to the many times I have received markings on my forehead from priests and others in India. 

NAMASTE!

GOOD NEWS!!!

Dear Rotarians Saran and Thomas III:

Congratulations!  Your Matching Grant Application submitted by the Rotary Club of Delhi Megapolis and the Rotary Club of Sanford-Springvale, for funding to help provide a check dam for a water harvesting project in Bhudleen Wala Besai Meo and Ferozpur Zhirka villages, Mewat District, Haryana, India, has been approved by The Rotary Foundation (India) ("RF(F)") and The Rotary Foundation ("TRF"). The total grant budget for the project is equivalent to $19,435.00.

WHAT GREAT NEWS!  As I understand it, all of the participating Rotary clubs and Districts, as well as any individuals, have already wire transferred or Overnighted the appropriate funds for processing at The Rotary Foundation. 

It is always heartening to know that the good works of Rotarians from throughout the world, in our efforts not only to raise the funds necessary to underwrite the costs of such a project, but also to implement the project and actually WORK AT THE DAM SITE are not only appreciated but also approved by the funding arm of Rotary International.

As I sit here, looking out at even more snow, following the BLIZZARD OF 2013, soon to be followed by torrential rains and temperatures today into the 40s, I am eager to meet the members of the team from the USA, who will be traveling overnight to India, leaving on Valentine's Day.

It is wonderful to have received this notice from The Rotary Foundation, and for those reading this who are not familiar with Rotary International or The Rotary Foundation, please visit the official website:  www.rotary.org and learn more how you can become involved in your own communities, and help us as we END POLIO NOW!!!

Together we are realizing PEACE THROUGH SERVICE and ENGAGE ROTARY and CHANGE LIVES!

 

Oh, the weather outside is frightful...

HOLY SMOKES!!!
Not since the great blizzard of February 1978 can I recall a "snow dumping" of these proportions.  Funny, reflecting back on that time, I was getting prepared to leave for a three week holiday in Spain with my family and the great Commonwealth of Massachusetts had closed its borders and we ended up staying up all night in Portland and flying out with Ronald Reagan the next morning, on our way to New York to the fly out to Spain.  He had been the guest of honor at a dinner I hosted in Portland and strangely enough we ended up on the same plane the following morning.  Fun memories.

Now, onto THIS journey, well, in a couple of days.  Perhaps it makes sense for us to get the man who has access to a D-6 to come he and scoop us out so our regular plow man can clean up. Then, we should be able to walk over to the garage to get the bags to pack so I don't have to worry about them on Tuesday or Wednesday.  Have tons to pack...
1) 55 team Polo shirts for everyone coming with me from Germany, France, Australia and the USA, as well as the Rotarians from India who will join up with us. We will all wear these on the National Immunization Day (against polio) on Sunday, February 24th. We will be administering oral polio vaccine to all children under the age of five years. We must continue in our efforts to make sure that we END POLIO NOW!!!
2) 55 work tee shirts for the team which we will wear while we are working on the construction of our FOURTH water catchment dam in a remote area in Haryana State.
3) 50 pair of work gloves which were generously donated again by our friends at Springvale Hardware store in Springvale, Maine. These are much sought after by all of the locals when we finish our work and leave for the travel portion of our trip.
4) 250 necklaces to take for children in the villages where we will be working (sort of like the ones used at Mardi Gras)
5) a carton box of about fifty hand spinning "helicopters" to take for kids, generously donated by the office of my dentist, Dr. Ray Beaudoin in Sanford, Maine
6) about fifty "pens" containing Purell hand sanitizer to share with my teammates.
And, oh right, probably some clothing for me to wear while I am there! I am not even sure if I even have room for my own pants, sneakers, sandals, socks and underwear. Oh well, guess I will have to deal with it, once I get all the shirts packed.

The young man just arrived to help shovel us out, and when he knocked on the door, asked, "what did Mark DO, anyway???"  Already, since I moved my car to the top of the driveway about three hours ago, another foot of snow has fallen!!!  REALLY???  I am just hearing that there may be another major storm coming to our area on Thursday. NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Don't they KNOW that my team from the USA is flying into Newark that day and that we are all flying out to Delhi, India that night???

Rotarians GIVE A DAM!!!

For those who are interested in the possibility of adding excitement in your life, plan to join me and the ROTARY DREAM TEAM - INDIA 2013, as we launch this year's journey to India on February 14th.

From Vermont, Judith Brown will be heading to Newark Airport, and will meet up with me and with Cornelia Stockman from the Rotary Club of Kennebunk-Portside.  Also coming along to meet us will be Peter and Kimberley Miller from Pennsylvania, as well as Linda Bertuzzi from Las Vegas, Ozzie and Kathryn Gilbertson, Mary Lynn Cummings, Colleen Braid and more.  This year, the team members come from the United States, Australia, France and Germany - not to mention our dear friends, the Rotarians from the Rotary Club of Delhi-Megapolis, with whom we have worked and coordinated for the past several years.

The team will arrive in Delhi late on the evening of February 15th and be taken to our hotel, for a few hours of sleep and then we are up and at it.  Because of the dates chosen by the authorities in India, the National Immunization Day (NID) for administering polio vaccine (February 24) we will be doing some of our travel in the beginning of the trip and some at the end. 

The service work project in which we will participate is providing a check dam for a water harvesting project in Bhudleen Wala Besai Meo and Gerozpur Zhirka villages located in the Mewat District in haryana State. Over the past three years, we have funded and helped to construct three similar dams in the states of Rajasthan and Haryana.  However, this year is a bit different, because the dam construction will be closer to where we have worked in administering polio vaccine over the past five or six years.  It is particularly meaningful to me and other members of our team who have traveled in previous years, because of the fact that we have come to know some of the villagers and the elders in town which will benefit from the construction of this dam.

It is difficult for most of us to comprehend that people can live (or should I say exist?) in regions where there is not sufficient water for crop planting and harvesting.  At our own homes, when we need to water our gardens or wash our cars, we just hook up the hose to the outside spigot and turn the handle and out comes a steady stream of water!  Well, in these parts of the world, where we have and will continue to work in a cooperative effort with the Rotary India Water Conservation Trust, the terrain is hard - rocky and dusty with barely any growth at all.  If it were not for the scrub growth, there would be nothing.

 

This past year, during a respite from our work on the dam construction, I was able to visit the project we funded and helped to construct back in 2010.  I traveled to Teench Wala and when leaving my car, I wandered down the path we had taken for several days a few years back and we quite taken by the fact that the path was no longer just path of dust and dirt.  There was actually some evidence of grasses and low scrub growing.  I picked up my pace a bit, because I was excited to see the change and wanted to see more.  When I came around the last bend in the trail, I was simply awestruck - there before me was the completed dam, complete with a plaque including all of the names of the participants from 2010.  Behind the dam was a reservoir of water which stretched for several miles!  WOW! What a difference.  Although the monsoons had ceased some seven or eight months prior, the reservoir was about two-thirds full.  Water fowl had moved into the area and now used this area as a natural habitat.  The quiet of the countryside was interrupted by the sound of "one-lungers" the old single cycle gasoline engines which were sputtering and coughing as they powered water pumps.  Looking around the perimeter of the reservoir, I could see several water lines going up the hillsides to the top.  There the water spilled out and flooded the terraced garden spot.  Then the water overflowed and flooded the next area down, and so on to the edge of the reservoir.

Imagine looking around the area where only two years prior had been virtually a wasteland, and now was flourishing with crops up and down the hillsides which created the valley.  Perhaps the best experience, however, was when I walked back to my car.  Along the path, an older gentleman stood, leaning against his tall walking stick.  He looked at me and a minimal smile nearly shattered the craggy and leathery face, that was sun beaten beneath his turban.  With my driver acting as an interpreter, I stopped to chat with the old gentleman.  He took my hands and clasped them between his own.  He looked at me and said a few words, in the form of a question.  My driver said, "He is asking, 'Do you know what you have done?'"  I hesitated a bit, because I was not sure if I was about to be reprimanded and scolded.  I said, "No sir, I don't!"  He went on to explain that before my group came back in 2010, there had been six drilled (artesian) wells that served the villages.  They had all long since gone dry.  However, after the monsoons came and were held back to become the reservoir, the water table had risen substantially and sustained and all six wells were now gushing!  The old man's smile broadened, as did my own, and he embraced me as if to say, "Thank you!"



 

ANTICIPATION…

How will I “fit in”? Will I like my roommate? Should I plan to bring gifts for children we will see in the villages? Will we have plenty of time to shop? What kinds of things can one find to purchase in India?

All very good questions and all are a part of what novice travelers, as well as seasoned ones begin to question when only two or three weeks remain before we say “Good-bye” to family and friends, co-workers, fellow Rotary Club members, and then begin the journey, most likely with little or no sleep the night before. 

Taking each question separately…

Will I “fit in”?

India is a huge melting pot of cultures, religions, politics and even as Americans or Westerners and therefore, minorities in India, once the shock of seeing taller, heavier and lighter-skinned people, the natives pay little or no attention, unless initiated by the visitors.  The more we return, however, to the same villages, towns and neighborhoods where we have administered polio vaccine in the past, the more familiar we become to the natives and the more welcoming they become.  A good example happened a year ago.  I was working with three other Rotarians – one from Florida, one from Las Vegas and one from California, in a booth located up a narrow alley in Bisru.  Once I had a chance to stretch my legs, I went for a walk in the neighborhood. About half a block away from where we were distributing vaccine, a boy of about sixteen years stood in his doorway.  In perfect English, he said, “Good day, sir!”  I returned the greeting and then asked his name.  He told me his name and then asked me for mine.  When I told him my name is Elias, he said, “My father is Elias.”  “But,” wearing a big smile on my face, I said, “I am not your father!” I asked if his father was at home and he said he would send his younger brother into the village to find his father and bring him to their home.  A few minutes later, a gentleman, wearing a turban, arrived, with a smile on his face.  We greeted one another and had a “photo-op”, where each of us had an arm around the other’s shoulder.  Then, with not even a beat skipped, he turned and asked, “Where is Sarah?”  After a few questions back and forth between us, I was able to ascertain that he was looking for Sarah Miller, a teenager who had traveled with us a couple of years prior.  Evidently, she had given out the drops of vaccine at that time, and he remembered her, and by name! I explained Sarah was not with us at that time, but that I would extend his greetings to her.

 

Will I like my roommate?

Did you ever go to summer camp? Or to boarding school? Or to college or university?  At the time, did you wonder who your roommate might be, where from and whether or not you would get along well with them? Generally speaking, while keeping flexibility as one of the “rules”, one can tolerate and most likely come to enjoy the company of a total stranger.  When leading a Group Study Exchange to India in 2003, one of the young men on the team, Tim, a gifted photographer, happened to be riding with me to get some lately delivered luggage – about a week late!  While we were riding along, Tim asked if he could ask a couple of questions.  I told him that would be fine.  The questions turned out to be more statements than questions.  He said, “You know, Elias, we have been here for about a week. We are total strangers to these people. We are  living in their homes and they have vacated their own bedrooms for us. We have totally different ways of driving, cooking, speaking and we have absolutely nothing in common.  But,” he paused, “you know what?  We are all just the same!”  I congratulated Tim and said, “Congratulations, Tim. You get it!” In other words, although sometimes we slept two or three in a bed (something none of us had ever done other than with our spouses) and we were eating food which had never before passed our palates, nonetheless, we were the same as out hosts, just dressed differently and spoke differently.  That is one of the “magical” qualities of Rotary that I have found over many years. When you see someone wearing a Rotary tee-shirt or a Rotary pin, you kind of already know something about the other person. There is a commonality of understanding and purpose – that of serving others.  So getting back to the question, if you know it is only for a period of two weeks AND you are both Rotarians or in some way affiliated with a Rotary Club, then you can rest assured that you and your roommate will become fast friends and also lifelong friends. 

Should I plan to bring gifts for children we will see in the villages?

Absolutely!  Gifts, no matter how insignificant you may feel they are, become cherished, especially by the children.  We have taken Frisbees, Nerf balls, pencils, balloons, tiny bottles of bubbles, pads of paper and of course, the old stand-by – the WalMart SMILEY stickers. This year, I am planning to take a couple hundred bead necklaces – like the ones they use at Mardi Gras.  I am sure they may well have been made in India or China, but the fact that they are gifts makes all of the difference!  The gifts each of us receives in return are priceless – the sparkling smiles and the flashing eyes and perhaps, even a hug!  How can anyone go wrong? 

Will we have plenty of time to shop?

This is a common question and one which is the easiest to answer. “YES!”

 What kinds of things can one find to purchase in India?

Whether it is walking through the dusty streets of Bisru and Punhana, and watching as the young boy takes a cleaver and deftly chops off the heads of chickens and then “bleeding’ them and tossing them into a pile to be picked up to go to market; or it might be blocks of sugar cane sugar – sort of like maple sugar – but about a foot square, that are stacked on carts and infested with flies; whether it is the finest of gold jewelry (or as it is spelled in India – jewellery) or jewel encrusted brooches or bracelets; whether it is the finest of silk scarves or the sought-after Pashmina shawls; or perhaps a “scrimshaw” type of painting on camel bone; maybe you prefer a handcrafted white marble table which is reminiscent of the Taj Mahal; or finally a handmade oriental carpet sold in one of the high-class emporium shops. All these, as well as padlocks or automobile tires or fresh vegetables, can be purchased throughout India.  Just bring your rupees or your credit cards (for those larger items).

HOW DOES ONE PREPARE???

Over the past ten years, while gathering together Rotarians, Rotaractors, Interactors and friends of Rotary to travel to India for participating in National Immunization Days (NIDs) against polio, I have received countless Emails and telephone calls, texts, etc., inquiring as to "what to pack?" or "will it be hot?" or "do I need to bring my own sleeping bag?" and the list goes on and on.  Basically, what I feel people are asking is "How do I prepare for a journey which will be life-changing?"

There are many "pearls" of wisdom one could offer to the traveler who is inexperienced with the sub-Continent of India, its people, its smells, its colors, its culture, but one of the very first pieces of advice which I offer is, "Whatever you do, before you leave on this first journey, do NOT read books such as Culture Shock - India." I remember the first time I traveled to India, in January 2001, friends were offering bits of wisdom, even though most of them had never traveled to India!  "Make sure you take plenty of protein bars and whatever you do, don't eat the food!" Several offered to purchase and give me Culture Shock - India, but I told them I wanted to experience everything I could, without being tainted by others' prejudices and idiosyncrasies. This is not to say that I had no apprehensions and experienced no trepidation about being away from my family for two weeks, with the possibility of not being able to call home or check on my business. Having said this, however, I also remembered the fact that at the age of four, one of my friends in kindergarten, Charlie Dimaggio, was afflicted with polio and our family child sitter, Mrs. Henry, contracted polio when I was about five. I still remember when my sisters and I were allowed to visit Mrs. Henry in the hospital, and there she lay, inside that torpedo-shaped "iron lung" and I was scared.  It made horrible hissing sounds as it pulsed to assist her to breathe out and breathe in. Mrs. Henry was confined to that apparatus for the remainder of her life - probably twenty years.

The very best advice I could offer to any of the newcomers to this adventure is be open to anything and everything, drink in the smells and the vivid colors, taste everything, hear everything, see everything, be flexible, be ready for the unexpected. Know that what you are doing is noble - you are literally saving lives by administering drops of polio vaccine and you are changing lives for the better. 

How appropriate that our incoming president of Rotary International, Ron Burton, has chosen his theme for the coming year - EMBRACE ROTARY - CHANGE LIVES!