multiple times during my time in india i have thought of the jack johnson song "holes to heaven." however, the lyrics have never rung more true than during my activity week trip to a village when i saw the most radiant stars in my life. activity week is a delightful week at the end of first quarter dedicated to experiential learning. the diversity in trips is immense—spanning from studying cricket in bombay or learning indian dance in gujarat to volunteering for habitat for humanity outside of dehli. i spent my week living in the village of dwargarh with 15 ninth graders. during our stay we worked on the construction of a k-5 school and camped on a mountainside terrace. watching the sun rise above one mountain and set behind another gave me a sense of security and connection to nature that i’ve never before experienced.
dwargarh is a 2-hour bus ride and a 2 to 3-hour hike away from mussoorie and is situated about 1,000 feet above the nearest village, garkhett. we arrived in garkhett, collected our backpacks and tents off of the truck and began the 1,000 foot ascent to our campsite. it’s one thing hiking up a steep, rocky road with a pack. and it is quite another to motivate 15 ninth graders up the mountain. sweating and dusty, we approached the village gate and were welcomed by a gathering of villagers and the beauty of the built-into-the-mountain community. homes, lined with drying corn cobs and faces poking out windows, children playing cricket barefoot in a vacant field (likely in-between harvests), villagers pounding grain with giant logs, a temple poking up to create a skyline against the mountainous backdrop. two students and i wound through the narrow village streets, making our way to the campsite. as we traveled, a parade of children and adults grew behind us. at our campsite, we assembled tents with a crowd of 50 villagers looking on. when i finished assembling my tent, i took a picture of the cluster of people gathered around us. the children squealed with excitement and the adults shook my hand when they saw their images on my camera. villagers asked me to take their photos throughout my time in the village, including one woman who said she had never seen a picture of herself before.
we spent the week eating delicious village food (prepared in a small kitchen on our campsite) including, roti (bread) and various varieties of dal (spiced lentils in a curry), working on the construction of the school and learning about local handicrafts, farming techniques and culture. we approached our construction site the first day to find a classful of students and a teacher with a mobile chalkboard assembled on a rooftop, seemingly waiting for the completion of their new school. our assignment was to haul rocks and dirt away from the newly-constructed building via potato sacks slung between bamboo sticks and tin pans. a group of women, on a trip to the nearby well, assembled to watch (as one student referred to it) “laugh tv.” you see, woodstock students, used to comfortable lives, generally removed from the normal realities of india, are not the most efficient day laborers. in a five minute span, david hit vinay on the back with a pickax and rithambra dropped a load of rocks onto jagrato’s foot as our audience howled with laughter. eventually, one of the women, tired of giggling at us and fed up with our incompetence, jumped down from the ledge and began demonstrating the art of the pick ax.
on our day off from construction, the villagers led us to a hindu temple on top of a nearby peak. as i stepped over the crest of the mountain, i lost my breath and exclaimed, “the snows!” the kids, unimpressed with the commonplace sight of the himalayan mountains, tried to humor my giddy awe. after visiting the temple, our group enjoyed a picnic lunch under the snowy peaks.
most evenings after the sun went down we went to the town square (located at the foot of the temple) for the village dance party (well, it could be called that). during the day, chillies, corn and grains dry in the sun-drenched town square. however, at night the whole village (70 families) pour out to fill the square with music and dancing. lights hanging from the eaves of nearby homes illuminate the musicians and dancers. it’s amazing that men and women who rise before the sun (so they can be in the fields as the day breaks) have the energy to dance until 10-11 at night. the villagers, excited to host such a large group of guests, patiently taught us their dances (essentially all derivations of circular, choreographed stepping with linked hands) as we trod on their bare feet with our heavy shoes. local men played the drums and horn, owned by the village council. the male and female dancers accompanied the instruments with call-and-response singing. dancing with the villagers, giggling together as i messed up the steps and feeling the intermingling delight of my students, experiencing a new culture for the first time, and the villagers, sharing their valued dances with us, made our nighttime village festivities the highlight of my stay.
on the final night of our trip, the students prepared a bollywood dance for the villagers to perform during our nightly dance party. the villagers then acted out part of mahararat for us that is typically only performed in honor of diwali. mahararat is a hindu epic and the villagers believe they are descendants from some of the gods epitomized in the story. the actors and actresses begin the ritual by performing dances to depict the gods. during the course of the dance, the spirits of the gods are believed to possess the performers. the villagers chosen by the spirits are revered within the community, though they do not remember their actions when under the power of the gods’ spirits. one woman was carried away by four men after she collapsed to the ground and a man convulsed on stage. while some of the kids were a bit frightened by the performance, it was incredible for the villagers to share something with us that outsiders rarely see.
this is a picture of our village from an adjacent mountainside. our camsite is signified by the colorful dots-- our tents-- (on the right) above the village buildings.
1 comment:
dear harry,
i miss you.
love, ron
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