Field Placement

Kerala’s social work is focused in community work. As a student, you can have all the experience you need working at a macro level. You could potentially work in the clinical setting but you would need to speak the language or use an interpreter.  I am not very interested in clinical work, so I was paced at an organization called “Outreach”. This organization manages a number of programs with all segments of the population. We traveled to the south of Kerala to visit a few of the projects they are in charged of. Kerala is a communist state and as such it operates in a different way from other states. I first noticed it was communist when I saw the ever present communist flags and a myriad pictures of Ernesto "el Ché" Guevara all over Kerala.  They have three different levels of government and the basic level of government is called "panchayat". We visited the president of one of the poorest panchayats to discussed a project that involved  building a road that will provide access to an isolated segment of the population. Then, we visited another project that will help women of lower socioeconomic status work as seamstresses. It was interesting to learn that in order to carry out any project they have to make the project as environmentally friendly as possible. This is the main feature of Kerala, their constant attempt to maintain the environment. No wonder why is so green compared to all other states of India, they try hard not to impact the environment in any bad way.

The last visit of that week was to the mobile clinic for migrant workers. Kerala is to India as the United States is for the Americas (or maybe the world?), people from other parts of the country migrate to Kerala searching for work and higher wages. Just as it happens in the United States the immigrant population is very vulnerable, does not speak the local language and they often leave their family behind. The project seeks to prevent communicable diseases like HIV. Migrant workers, are mostly uneducated and don’t speak Malayalam, and although Hindi is the Government's official language, they might not speak it either. They work mainly in construction and high risk type of jobs. It really resembles the US undocumented immigrant population. The only difference perhaps is that in India, you are entitled to the equivalent of social security services. It is your right as an Indian citizen to have  health benefits at a very low cost. Heck, even as a foreigner you can have healthcare services for a minimal fraction of what you need to pay in the US! I had to have some tests done and I paid nearly $100 for a battery of tests that would have cost me approximately $3000 in the US.

After visiting these projects my heart was set on the migrant workers project. I saw so many parallels to our immigrants in the US that I was looking forward to learn from what they are doing here. However, my supervisor asked us to develop a career awareness program for school children. Two other students and I set out to do research and create the program. It was a fantastic experience for me, it forced me to think of all the phases of program development and it allowed me to practice my program and project management skills. I was very thankful for my certification in project management as I realized that, along with the skills earned in a master in business administration, those are very relevant skills for a social worker, and basically any professional, to have.

We delved into all sorts of child development theories and unearthed all sorts of activities for children aimed to unveil children’s innate abilities and hone the skills they are more attuned with. We contemplated the inclusion of parents in our model too. We wrote a paper and then submitted to the directives of the Outreach organization. Thankfully they were pleased with our proposed program, they want us to train undergrad students so that they can implement the project with our guidance. Without the language we have to rely on these students.

Speaking of language, it has been very hard for me to be an illiterate interpreter. Being bilingual and bi-cultural I feel out of sorts in India. I can’t speak enough Malayalam and it has been hard for me to be disciplined about learning it. To begin, I have no TV which is indispensable in the process of learning another language; second, everyone around me speaks English. You can only learn a language if you hear it all the time and try to speak it all the time. This , unfortunately is not the case. One of the undergrad students was kind enough to come to my house for a class. She taught me all the vowels and consonants, which are about 56, I realize it was a big challenge for anybody to learn Malayalam. My ear is not refined enough to distinguish all the sounds. There are many variations of the sounds you make with your tongue for instance. We could say there are like three different letters that sound like R. My heart sank when I was trying to imitate the sounds that they made and was told over and over that I didn’t have the sound. Sometime, by pure chance I made the right sound but, a few seconds later, it was gone again.  By now I can recognize short phrases here and there but nothing that would allow me to be at a bar chatting with a stranger.  Well nothing could really allow me to be at a bar chatting with a stranger anyways because there are really no bars in Kerala. Yup, no free distribution or consumption of alcohol. There are "beer and wine" parlors where the selection of beers is 2 or 3 varieties and there is just one selection of red or white wine. For any wine lover this is not The State to be in, and perhaps not even the country to enjoy wine.  The parlors open only until 9:30 PM. In other words, as beautiful as Kerala is, it can be pretty boring if you are into partying.  

Lack of alcohol made me feel a little bad for all the people that might find some relief in this vice. In Kerala, you can’t really drawn your sorrows like any other human being in the western world. You can’t numb your pain mindlessly with alcohol. You simply have to endure your traumas and sorrows while dry as a bone. 

Field placement occurs in three phases. The first phase happens during the month of July, the second phase happens during the months of august and September when you take classes with everyone else and finally, during the month of October you go back to field placement.  This does not mean that you are not in field all the time. Being new to the culture you really are at field placement since you land in India until you leave.  You are learning all the time.

First Impressions (Continued)

 

Facing the Arabian Sea

   We traveled as a group for the first time to Varkala, a beach town in the south of Kerala. Our friend Melinda wanted to celebrate her birthday at the beach, so the seven of us entrained to Varkala. It is hard for me to remember a trip with so many experiences of all kinds. Getting the train tickets required the patience of a zen master and a linguist to decipher the meanings of all the codes: sleeper 2A, CC 2B,  AC, 3A, etc. It took us several days to navigate the online system. We had to put our passport numbers a dozen times and as we were ready to book, caput!, the system would fail one way or another.  We finally purchased the tickets, and felt incredibly accomplished and independent. We were ecstatic! The next challenge was getting to the train station. My friend Candy, the savvy traveler had already downloaded Uber, this was a blessing because with our luggage it was hard to fit in an otto. 

Upon arrival to the station we waded through hundreds of people trying to figure out where to board the train. Illiteracy takes over as most of the signs are in Malayalam. Chickens with heads cut off were far more coherent and organized than us. We finally made it to our respective seats a few seconds before the train departed, angry with each other, frustrated with the world and feeling like a million devaluated rupees. 

Little by little I caught my breath soon enough to be able to experience the olfactory display of fried bananas, spices, sweat... accompanied by the cacophony of voices of all types and intonations.  There was the gentleman that in his baritone voice chanted: “chai chai, chai” followed by the graver voice of the person selling the fried bananas and then the soprano selling briyani (fried rice). Obviously the jerk baby  was there to top this off shrieking at the minimal discomfort, or want. Every time I dozed off he was there to take me out of Morpheus arms.  Thanks baby!

In the train

All in all people always offer you a smile which makes everything ok. We felt excited about going to the beach,  and proud to have survived the process of getting in the train. That feeling only lasted until we realized that there were no speakers in the train and no announcements of the stops. You have to know where to get off, the train is not going to magically tell you: “Wake up there, you have arrived”. Nope! you have to simply know where is your stop. Period. There are signs at the bus stations but the signs are in Malayalam and seeing through the window that has been damaged and scratched by the inclemencies of the weather and  time,  is an impossible task.  As always, we had to appeal to a kind soul that could tell us where to get off. With my best puppy eyes I inquired to the gentleman right next to me who was traveling to a city farther south than Varkala, so he was able to tell us where to get off. Our friend Frank did not have the luck to be seated with us, he was in a different coach. We just had to hope that he asked around about where to get off, and thankfully, he did. It was great to see him appear slowly but surely at the station in Varkala. In my very anxious mind, I was already imagining him lost in some town. I underestimated his intelligence and survival skills. 

Train Station in Varkala

Varkala is a small town on a cliff overlooking the Arabian Sea. It’s shops and restaurants are arranged in parallel to the cliff. There was a multicultural plethora of restaurants, from Italian to Tibetan and the whole world in between… Ok, that might be a bit of an overstatement... There was a street with several Tibetan shops where beautiful jewelry was displayed along with sound bowls, Buddhists beads and meditation cushions. Our hotel was  cute and clean, well lit and pretty minimalist. I immediately liked it. The name, simple: Inda hotel.  The owners, an Ukrainian couple, were very friendly and helpful. We had the best breakfast I can remember and undoubtedly the best coffee in Kerala. It is hard to find good coffee in Kerala, in small shops, coffee is a sweet experience that leaves you at the verge of a diabetic coma. I remember one time I went to a big coffee shop in Lulu mall, one of the largest, or the largest mall in India. I asked for a vegan ice coffee. I had three sips and could not finish, I tried to change my drink as the semi-liquid required a spoon to “drink” it, but in that occasion the usual Indian hospitality and desire to please failed. After all I was in a chain coffee shop, not in a mom and papa shop where they still solve small problems like this without involving the manager or the cash register. 

The hotel

Tibetan Market at night

The cliff town

Don't do this, specially if you don't have a rabbis vaccine

The hotel was near the cliff and access to the ocean was possible, but the beach was erased by the heavy Monsoon season. This was a bit disappointing but it didn't deter our friend Melinda who next morning went to a beach nearby that was not closed. She could not bathe, but she could observe.  Instead of the usual rooster, I was awaken by music, the entire town has audible access to a huge speaker that in the morning and in the afternoon broadcasts traditional songs. You can’t help but listening to the languid tunes that remind you that you are somewhere remote from your hometown. Somehow this music makes me feel happy, there is an air of mysticism in it, even though there is not a word I can understand, my imagination wanders to not anymore remote places while I listen. See, when I was in the west and I heard that music, my soul would travel to India, now, I am here! I feel as if I had entered the movie I always imagined in my spiritual eyes! I experienced the same  when I went and sat by the cliff, overlooking the rocks and the fishing boats, I felt happy and complete in this far away town.

Happy, touching the Arabian Sea

It has been established that I look Indian… to a great extent at least. My other friends definitely look like foreigners.  They are frequently approached by people who want to have a selfie with them, but this evening in Varkala, the proposal was far more “indecent”. We were approached by the operations manager of the Deshadan Resort who wanted our pretty faces to be in his promotional video. We hesitated for a while, debated etc. He said the magic words to a bunch of broke students: “If you accept to be in my video, you will have breakfast lunch and dinner at our resort and we will take you to all Varkala’s attractions for free”. We were sold!

 

Press play to see the video

Bright an early the next morning we were picked up by a luxurious car that fit the seven of us. This taxi of sorts had to transport us for the entire two block distance to the resort. It was almost not worth trying to fit in that car for such a short ride, but the manager wanted to go above and beyond and make us feel comfortable and important. I guess we were important, we were about to be movie stars! I felt a bit ashamed though as we made this poor driver wait for at least 20 minutes for such a short ride.

The first shots were around the pool of this fancy, beautiful tropical, and of course, green resort. It was liberating to be able to sport a bikini without being concerned for breaking any cultural rules. This was foreign territory and we were foreigners, so, off with the shirts!  

Action!

I did notice that the Director of the operation was always approaching my blonde beautiful friend and my male friend. Obviously they look like foreigners. As for me, it seemed that they wanted me out of the shot at all times.  I quickly developed a complex and started to hear the wrong things. If the guy said: Mam, could you please walk… I would hear: “Mam, could you please walk out of the hotel”. I swear he asked me to go under water for a few minutes while they finished the pool shots.  One thing was for sure, I may have looked too local for the video, but I managed to stick my head here and there and appear multiple times in it.

Waited too long beneath water

We had the most care free afternoon I can remember. Just as it is meant to be for any student at a field placement. We played for hours in the pool, then visited the aquarium, then some went to ride elephants, visit temples, bike. We did all the things there are to do in Varkala. I did not want to go ride elephants though. I feel different about that whole thing. Ever since I became so aware of the suffering involved in any kind of recreational activity that involves animals, I just can’t do it... I imagine us humans having all the fun at their expense. The more I understand that animals have their own volition and emotions, the more I find it impossible to justify that we use them or abuse them. My friends though, they went and enjoyed themselves. I spent some of this time visiting an Ayurveda center and then to the Hindu temples around there. I learned that unless you are Hindu, you are not permitted to go in to certain parts of the temple. And in the smaller ones photographs are not allowed. I was impressed that there was one temple that was approximately 2000 years old. Holy caw! Also, you have to be dressed modestly, my friend Candy had a dress that was a bit above the knee and she could not enter. I found it a bit paradoxical that their priests are shirtless and their dhoti is always folded upwards, so they are showing their chest and legs... I enjoyed the visit to the temple, especially the sung prayer by a woman who was playing an instrument with one chord.  I gave her my name and twenty rupees and I think she sang a prayer for me. They are supposed to include your name in the song but perhaps mine morphed too dramatically in the transition to the language in which she was singing because I could not recognize my name in her song. 

Temple

Inside of the temple

Deshadan Hotel

That day was definitely a highlight in our book. We were open to just go with the flow and we had an amazing day, planned for us. We still went to the beach and enjoyed the view of the roaring ocean, but we had the goal of having a good time, the means were less important and we were surprised by the sweet taste of watermelon juice and the feeling of bonding with brand new friends. 

Me!

Arrival and some first impressions

Upon arrival at the airport the immigration line was rather long. I went to the one that seemed shorter and waited for my turn. Immigration to any country always makes me nervous, I always imagine angry officials asking angrier questions such as: “why are you here?, where did you hid the drugs? Why are you taking our jobs?” I reassured myself remembering that now I carry the beautiful blue, bald eagle, “we the people…” passport of my new homeland: The United States. I get to the immigration cubicle and the first question after opening my passport is: “Why are you here?” … Thankfully it was not in an angry tone and it was clear that he was really asking if I was a tourist or a student. Still my years of somewhat negative experiences made me feel terrified for a few seconds. I explained that I am a student and everything seemed cool. I noticed that in each cubicle there is a small elephant decorated with a red umbrella, I peer at the elephant and realize it is concealing a camera. Smiling was the only thing to be done. The immigration officer that welcomed me to India had orange hair, he was very friendly but his hair was startling. Latter, I realized that the color was caused by henna and the orange color was meant to cover his white hair.  

It was 3 in the morning when we arrived and 4:30 AM by the time we were all in the van. There were two young men waiting for us. They are students from the Master’s program in Social work, who, despite the hour and a half wait, greeted us with enthusiasm and warmth. As we came out of the airport the soothing rain made a timid appearance. I could feel the wet air on my forehead and my hair (as it instantly curled up into a perennial frizz which I still sport everyday) I inhaled the India air deeply, the smell of rain was placid to me. I felt incommensurately happy, expectant and fully awake. India has been in my dreams and captivated my imagination since I can remember. I always imagined being in contact with people from far lands, so different from me, with internal worlds so diverse and rich that my travels would not only be about going to places but about meeting and talking to people.

The first impression of Kochi was of men wearing Dhotis (traditional piece of clothing wrapped around the waist of men) It is like a male saree. There were dozens of men waiting at the airport, all dressed in short or long dhotis. They are the norm in this part of India, and, although men wear pants, dhotis are predominant. They are worn by men of all ages.

The house where we are staying is right in front of the school. Its big, has three rooms, two bathrooms, a dining room, a kitchen and a multipurpose room where the refrigerator is located. We are currently using it for drying our clothes… that is if anything can be actually dried in this humidity.  My bed is located in the middle; I share it with my Colombian friend Candy. We share the bathroom with two other girls.  There is really no privacy. Actually, that’s not totally accurate, I have a mosquito net which prevents the entrance of the annoying creatures. When I am in my mosquito net, I feel secure… seriously.

 

My friend using her mosquito net

 

The garage, outside of our house

The first meal was Indian rice pancakes (apom) and some peas curry. There was also chai and a variety of banana that I hadn’t eaten before. It is a good combination with the rest of the food. The banana is sweet and it helps counteract the effect of the spices from the other food. My mouth has had very few restful moments; for the most part its busy savoring peppery food that overwhelms my palate.  I have gotten used to it but, pepper is so predominant that it is hard to distinguish any other flavor. In fact, I realized recently that the salt shaker here is the one with one hole whereas the pepper shaker has three. The exact opposite to our dining experiences. There is one moment of my day though that it is pure joy, I call it mango – paramburi combo. I go to the corner café and my friend or “Chettan” serves me a smooth, silky, divine mango juice and a fried battered banana.

Our meals are all served in the Rajagiri dining hall. There is a system to sign up for meals. All the U Maryland students must sign up or opt out of each of the three meals served. The campus follows a strict non waste philosophy, so they only cook the necessary portions for the people eating. If we fail to either sign up or opt out and we show up or don’t go, we affect someone. The case in point is eggs. Sometimes we have chapatti, curry and boiled eggs. If you come to dinner without signing up and you eat an egg, you are taking someone else’s egg, very simple.

At the end of each meal each of us has to clean our own plate. We discard the food we didn’t eat into a bucket. This organic waste is taken to a bio-tank full of certain bacteria that decomposes the waste and turns it into gas. The kitchen uses this gas to cook.

The school is a reflection of the entire state of Kerala, they are very concerned with the environment. The school does not produce much waste because they don’t have any disposable utensils. At the end of any meal there is only a mound of organic waste, despite the fact that 40 to 50 people dine at the hall at any given time. The school is very clean, with well preserved and beautiful gardens; students, faculty and employees alike display a sense of pride to be part of the school, it is contagious, I feel proud to be a student here.

The first impression of my neighborhood is, just like the rest of the state, greenery. I live North of Fort Kochi, which is a mid size city, but I feel in a very remote area because I am surrounded by trees everywhere. It is beautiful. This state should be called “fifty shades of green”. The next impression is that everyone is very friendly. I know every single business owner near the school. There is Ms. Sheena and her store manager (Chettan or Older brother), she is the owner of the shop responsible for the mango-paramburi treat.  There is Ms. Jessi, the seamstress responsible for my new Indian wardrobe, and there is Ms. Gressy, the owner of the convenient store where I get my bindis from. The sense of community here is very strong, I feel connected to all of them and I feel safe while walking in this neighborhood.

My first impression of the bathroom was not so good, well, not at first. I learned that one of the reasons why there is no toilet paper in any bathroom is because it pollutes the water. You will always find a pressurized phone shower in most toilets, so you simply wash off your intimate parts. It takes some practice though… I, of course can’t be discrete about it. I don’t understand why my hands, that are completely adept to using toilet paper, seem to have some kind of paralysis when I try to use the phone shower; it falls, it twists, it slips… at the end of the process my clothes, my face and even my hair are all wet and everyone knows where I have been.

After our arrival to India we had to go to school to register with the government. It took a few hours to fill out the electronic paperwork associated with this process. We also met our academic liaison, a very handsome professor with a very warm smile.  He walked us through the whole process and gave us the main instructions about our 5 month stint in India. He answered all our questions no matter how silly and out of place they were. He was understanding that we were new to the country, the culture and the school, so in an exceptionally patient manner, he explained things associated with our academic responsibilities as well as things associated with our household. We were also introduced to Mr. Ken. He basically takes care of our every household need. He is always accompanied by a young handsome man (Troy)  that has been the subject of many of our dinner conversations: “He is so cute” “His eyes are so…” etc. He has sparked the romantic ideas of more than one in our group. Sadly, I am incredibly clumsy every time I am around him. The only two times I have tripped over anything has been when he is around. He always gives me a compassionate smile and then I hate myself for the rest of the day. 

Our welcome and first impression of the people of the school (Faculty and Students) could not have been better. The first official day at school we had a superb welcome, the screen at the lobby was displaying our names along with a picture of a bouquet of flowers. Little things like this make such a difference, really. We felt really welcome and special with this.  Then, we had an official welcome by the Dean(s), the President of the school and other senior faculty. They all gave us a brief lecture on a topic associated with our semester here.  During their sessions, several times the power went off. I was expecting some kind of reaction from them. At least a little "oh, oh" but nothing, they just continued with their presentation. The video beams and computers must be connected to an independent generator because their power point was never interrupted even when the lights were totally off. This was a sign to me that in India you just don't sweat the small stuff.

 (Senior Faculty and Students from U Maryland)

Over all, I have had a very positive first impression of India and its people. People are always willing to help; they are curious and not afraid of asking “where are you from”, “how old are you”, “why are you here… (To be continued)

Green Beauty

Kerala makes me thing of a sleeping beauty. Ke-Ra-La should be a female name, It sounds beautiful and it is beautiful. It wears a green dress embroidered with mango, jackfruit, guavas, coconut trees and myriads of rice fields. Not to mention the flowers that seem to sprout effortlessly, almost accidentally. My garage is filled with yellow flowers that fall during the day and many more keep reproducing in the arch that adorns the gate…Kerala is full of life everything grows fast, including mold. Yes, if you leave something outside you will find it with a layer of something green after a few days.

Every weekend I have had a date with this sleeping beauty. My traveler’s heart is excited to know my surroundings. I am still in tourist mode and I plan to let it be for a while. It still remains a magical occurrence for me to get to places. We were guided by our expert friend and fellow traveler Candy. She has a penchant for traveling and she loves backpacking and exploring. She is a major asset to our team as she figures out all the directions. I helped in my own personal way by trying out the local language and never being afraid to ask. My role as an interpreter still has a place here as I pick words here and there and I understand the heavy accent of some locals.  I also follow the “You can get to Rome by asking” motto every day. Everything is written in Malayalam, so, we must trust the local people, and so far, they have not failed us. We knew where to take the bus but we didn’t know which bus to take unless we asked every single driver if they were going to the intended place. I can’t read Malayalam, not yet, so I am officially illiterate in this land. Every single day is an adventure. We leave our house trusting that we will make it to our destination and that we will make it back home.  So far , so good.

Some Members of the Group

The second Thursday of our internship we went to the Vazhachal Forest. We saw the Athirappaly waterfalls that claim to be as beautiful as the Niagara falls. They didn’t disappoint.  The riverbed was rock and the falls were strong and abundant. The place was green, full of cheeky monkeys. Around that area there were several “elephant crossing” signs but no signs of elephants. I wish I had seen a free one.

Vazhachal Forest, Clothes and All

Athirappaly Waterfalls

When we “embused” in our trip to the waterfalls, we asked and we arrived to the right place, but once we got there we did not know where to go next. Somehow, from what seemed like thin air,  a boy just started to ask questions about us. He was coming from school and was very friendly. I answered all his questions even if these questions were a bit intrusive: “Is any of you married?” “why not?” “how old are you?” (dreaded question!). They were becoming increasingly personal, I feared he was going to ask if I had showered that morning, or whether I had waxed my legs… It was a bit awkward for me, but I understood that it wasn’t out of impertinence or malice, he wanted to know how to address me. As I am older than he (he was only 18) he could call me “chechi” which means “older sister”.

We might be the wildest of animals around here...

All of us

My “younger brother” and God’s sent guide, took us to all the cool places around the main waterfalls. I ended up bathing in some gorgeous waterfalls, clothes and all! My fellow hikers followed, and we had an unforgettable shower in the forest. It was so refreshing! We had been walking for many kilometers and it was hot and humid. The shower was very welcomed.

My younger brother was quite excited to show us around and we were glad he showed up to guide us. He did so willingly and gladly. He even took us back to the bus at the end of our trip. The trip was very much enhanced by his appearance.

Younger Brother that cut class to go to the waterfalls

This sleeping beauty has endless water, I had the privilege to visit Kerala’s  back waters last Sunday. It seemed like an impossible place, with channels Instead of roads connecting the little houses. It took a while for me to  understand that I had been in the "alter Macondo" or rather, the Asian Macondo?   Yes, only there you can see houses floating  around carrying lovers seeking a romantic night adrift. There are also groups of friends that rent a bigger houseboat to party while the sun sets in the horizon.  The houseboats are a signature of Kerala. They are big boats with everything you need inside: bedrooms, dining room living room and of course a nice deck. I am not sure if technology has reached the houseboats yet, but I would not be surprised if they have wi-fi.

Houseboat at Alapuzha

My friends and I witnessed the spectacle of a sunny day shining upon the channels and rice fields. We rented a Kayak for about 25 US$ each. We ventured in the small channels and visited the floating neighborhood. We saw families of ducks, a snake, three majestic king fisher birds, many eagles, dozens of crows and the much less majestic and quite abundant goats.  We spent 7 hours paddling, resting, taking pictures, eating and paddling again. We crossed many low bridges, including one so low that it is called the limbo. One must lay down in order to cross it. We saw many people tending to many mundane needs out in the open, by the water. They do their laundry in the channels, bathe their children in the channels and unfortunately also throw their trash in the channels.  I did see remains of fruits and other organic debris but actually the one thing that truly grossed me out was to see a plastic bag full of trash. I only saw one. The organic debris seems to blend in with the green scenery, but plastic floating in the channels seems like a travesty to me. Despite this contamination I fell in love with the backwaters of Kerala. Oh, and to make this even more interesting there, there is a floating supermarket that travels around the neighborhood, so you can step out of your house and go shopping! Amazon, you are not nearly as cool as that.

Life in the backwaters

My dream day was only disturbed by dozens of ants that climbed on my right foot during lunch time. Unwittingly, I stepped into one of their houses. I can’t blame them; they were defending themselves with their itchy venom from the giant that dared to stand on their house.  They marched on me all at once and my only defense was to put my foot into the sink, right there, on front of all the onlookers that were getting ready to have lunch.  It was a bit embarrassing but necessary. It was the only way to make them go.

Right after being the lunch of a bunch of ants and right before my lunch

With the unique faceless falcon (according to my friend Patricia)

Sunset in the backwaters

The south of India is at the same latitude as the North of Colombia, so the vegetation is very similar to that of the Isle of San Andres. Whenever I walk around my house I think of my distant Colombia, half the world away. I smile when I realize I am connected to my Colombian family by one imaginary line that crosses the world from west to east. I love seeing the mango trees full of fruit. It reminds me of my childhood in Barrancabermeja. I love to see the jack fruit hanging heavy from the trees. It is from the same family as the bread fruit. In a recent walk, we found a passion fruit just lying on the road. It was an incredible sight as I only see these beauties in the Colombian supermarkets.  I have also seen plants I had never seen before. For instant I saw the black pepper tree a few days ago, for the first time.  This plant is responsible for many of my chocking episodes though. Food here is very peppery sometimes.

Having my own Titanic moment without Leonardo