Monday, May 08, 2006
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Fundamentally speaking….
(might open a big can of worms by writing this…. but –)
Started reading the book Kiterunner. My friend Hardee got it for me for Xmas. If you haven’t read it – do so; The book is hard to put down. I read a chapter this morning and it haunted me: during my run, my drive up to the city, in the shower- it’s intense. And hits me close to home... I have come up close and personal with many similar characters to those in the book: people like Baba, Ali and Hassan, Amir, Aseef and his lackeys, Aseef’s parents…
The book is a lot deeper than I thought it would be. It got me thinking…
You ever notice the small similarities between religious practices? Surya Namaskar is similar to Naamaz. (They have come to represent different ideologies- but have you even seen them done side by side?) Taking Prasad (food blessed by god) isn’t all that different from taking communion bread. Praying in almost every faith is similar in practice... and the list of little similarities (as well as fundamental similarities) goes forever on...
Faith is faith. Some people need it to make sense of the world, some don't. But why the animosity between? (And why do people believe that anyone is wrong if the names they call their god are different?)
Show me one kid who can distinguish between people of different religions, different castes, different races. You can’t. It’s impossible and it’s obvious in it's simplicity. Hatred is taught. Disgust and intolerance are tastes that are acquired.
It’s interesting and upsetting to me to see it unravel in the world around me: these grudges and old scores that are tens and hundreds of years old and unsettled, still unforgiven, still unrelenting. I’ve met so many people who try to school me on "what those people did" and "what these people did"…
It’s not that I want to remain ignorant. I don't condone violence in any shape or form. I don't condone hatred. I don’t want to turn a blind eye to all the injustice there is in the world…. (and here I'm going off an a tangent because I don't just refer to injustices as those steming from religious disputes …. but also injustice toward the environment... and concerning economic and educational disparities …. and the lack of equal access to healthcare, to food, to freedom, to information, to peace….. ) In any case, it is not that I want to be ignorant about any of these things.
But- what I DO want- is us, as a whole world of people, to recognize that by allowing past injustices (back to refering to racial and religious) to shape our future ….. we perpetuate it all. We have to (and should) acknowledge the past... and do what we each can to help those who were pushed down to stand up on their own feet again. But don't perpetuate the "these people" and "those people" .... because kids *grow up* LEARNING to see those differences. Seeds are planted to keep the hatred going. The same mentalities are passed on to the next generation of children, who will grow up and want to recify the past. IT WILL NEVER STOP.
As for me, I refuse to participate in this stupid cycle. I’ll teach my kids and any other kids that cross my path the importance of the similarities. I will refuse to draw lines. I will choose to let the similarities between people outweigh the differences. I'm going to bank on the people that see others as simply people, and see what we can do if we work together.
It’s kind of like in the book I mentioned earlier.... the kite string that characters use to fly kites are intwined with little shards of glass to cut down other kites in the sky. The people are so busy looking up at the kites they are trying to cut down that no one notices that the glass in the kite strings are also leaving their own hands cut and bloody. No one looks at their own hands.
I hope this makes sense, but it might not. It's only now that it's beginning to make sense to me.
Started reading the book Kiterunner. My friend Hardee got it for me for Xmas. If you haven’t read it – do so; The book is hard to put down. I read a chapter this morning and it haunted me: during my run, my drive up to the city, in the shower- it’s intense. And hits me close to home... I have come up close and personal with many similar characters to those in the book: people like Baba, Ali and Hassan, Amir, Aseef and his lackeys, Aseef’s parents…
The book is a lot deeper than I thought it would be. It got me thinking…
You ever notice the small similarities between religious practices? Surya Namaskar is similar to Naamaz. (They have come to represent different ideologies- but have you even seen them done side by side?) Taking Prasad (food blessed by god) isn’t all that different from taking communion bread. Praying in almost every faith is similar in practice... and the list of little similarities (as well as fundamental similarities) goes forever on...
Faith is faith. Some people need it to make sense of the world, some don't. But why the animosity between? (And why do people believe that anyone is wrong if the names they call their god are different?)
Show me one kid who can distinguish between people of different religions, different castes, different races. You can’t. It’s impossible and it’s obvious in it's simplicity. Hatred is taught. Disgust and intolerance are tastes that are acquired.
It’s interesting and upsetting to me to see it unravel in the world around me: these grudges and old scores that are tens and hundreds of years old and unsettled, still unforgiven, still unrelenting. I’ve met so many people who try to school me on "what those people did" and "what these people did"…
It’s not that I want to remain ignorant. I don't condone violence in any shape or form. I don't condone hatred. I don’t want to turn a blind eye to all the injustice there is in the world…. (and here I'm going off an a tangent because I don't just refer to injustices as those steming from religious disputes …. but also injustice toward the environment... and concerning economic and educational disparities …. and the lack of equal access to healthcare, to food, to freedom, to information, to peace….. ) In any case, it is not that I want to be ignorant about any of these things.
But- what I DO want- is us, as a whole world of people, to recognize that by allowing past injustices (back to refering to racial and religious) to shape our future ….. we perpetuate it all. We have to (and should) acknowledge the past... and do what we each can to help those who were pushed down to stand up on their own feet again. But don't perpetuate the "these people" and "those people" .... because kids *grow up* LEARNING to see those differences. Seeds are planted to keep the hatred going. The same mentalities are passed on to the next generation of children, who will grow up and want to recify the past. IT WILL NEVER STOP.
As for me, I refuse to participate in this stupid cycle. I’ll teach my kids and any other kids that cross my path the importance of the similarities. I will refuse to draw lines. I will choose to let the similarities between people outweigh the differences. I'm going to bank on the people that see others as simply people, and see what we can do if we work together.
It’s kind of like in the book I mentioned earlier.... the kite string that characters use to fly kites are intwined with little shards of glass to cut down other kites in the sky. The people are so busy looking up at the kites they are trying to cut down that no one notices that the glass in the kite strings are also leaving their own hands cut and bloody. No one looks at their own hands.
I hope this makes sense, but it might not. It's only now that it's beginning to make sense to me.
Friday, April 14, 2006
where I've been the past few days:
1. Finally got to meet Barack Obama at the Apna Ghar fundraiser (told him I'd vote for him if he ran; he winked at me) (ps. I love the man)
2. Ran all around the city and got to hang out with Hardee, Jobear, Robyn, and Sanj all in one super crazyfun day.
3. Biked 13 km on Lake Shore Drive with Hardee
(who's really talented at capturing moments - he took this pic)
4. Went out to Jon and Chien's show at the AA showcase- got to meet up with Vincenzo and Sara... (aka "Melissa") (who both helped me in covert changing operations outside the fitting rooms.)
5. Hit Champaign with Jenaiya for Mikey's birthday- huge reunion with Erock and her crew.
"Rups, no one cares what you do or where you've been the past few days! What is your point?!?!?!?!?"
Well, the point is that, recently, I have been ALL OVER THE PLACE. Then, yesterday morning, I realize that my bracelet isn't on my wrist. Most of you guys know- it's the silver "Papu" bracelet that my mom made for me when I was in high school. I haven't taken off that bracelet since I got it; that bracelet has seen me through ten years (!!!) of my life. (crazy no? and I know, at this point Robyn is thinking, "damn, that is the most committed that girl has ever been to anything!") (haha, shutup Rob)
Anyway, I've been running around so much that I wouldn't even know where to begin to look. I've decided that it's ok though. I've grown a lot better at letting go of things. Loss and renewal. I've still got everything that bracelet represents- my mom and her thoughtful creativity, my brother and the glimpses of him before he entered his weirdo teenager-ness, and, of course, 10 years of my life lived.
I'm sure there's more philosophical stuff I could throw in the mix but I'll spare you.
Point is: Let me know if you see a silver bracelet laying around that's about 10 years old and says 'papu' on it. :)
(wait! what if..... (how awesome would it be) if Barack was the one who found and returned it to me???!!? and then he fell in love with me, but recognizing his greater love for his beautiful wife and daughter, instead asked me to be his running mate and it was an ideal world where we didn't need to elect bad people when they make us fearful..... and good people actually won elections ......and Barack won and took me with him .... and, by some strange ideal fluke of nature I was suddenly VP of the US of A????!! First order of business would be to get everyone a new pair of socks (because all new beginnings should begin with new socks) and then we would start asking some tough questions about such thaings as economic disparities, and political motives and foreign policies... and every individual in the nation would take a good hard look at themselves and the world around them... and then encourage each other to envision a better world that they'd build together, because the only thing you can think about when you are wearing brand new socks.... (don't believe me? try it. I dare you))
(this tangent is sponsored by: my eerily similar schoolgirl crush on Zakir Hussian.... (before I knew he was much older than I thought and married) and my fantasy tour with him on a make-the-world-dance-tour (like the dancing Zion scene when they finally win the battleship war in the Matrix))
Lessons learned:
1. I need to keep better tabs on my sh*t.
and, more importantly,
2. No more typing when I'm deliriously tired.
2. Ran all around the city and got to hang out with Hardee, Jobear, Robyn, and Sanj all in one super crazyfun day.
3. Biked 13 km on Lake Shore Drive with Hardee(who's really talented at capturing moments - he took this pic)
4. Went out to Jon and Chien's show at the AA showcase- got to meet up with Vincenzo and Sara... (aka "Melissa") (who both helped me in covert changing operations outside the fitting rooms.)
5. Hit Champaign with Jenaiya for Mikey's birthday- huge reunion with Erock and her crew.
"Rups, no one cares what you do or where you've been the past few days! What is your point?!?!?!?!?"
Well, the point is that, recently, I have been ALL OVER THE PLACE. Then, yesterday morning, I realize that my bracelet isn't on my wrist. Most of you guys know- it's the silver "Papu" bracelet that my mom made for me when I was in high school. I haven't taken off that bracelet since I got it; that bracelet has seen me through ten years (!!!) of my life. (crazy no? and I know, at this point Robyn is thinking, "damn, that is the most committed that girl has ever been to anything!") (haha, shutup Rob)
Anyway, I've been running around so much that I wouldn't even know where to begin to look. I've decided that it's ok though. I've grown a lot better at letting go of things. Loss and renewal. I've still got everything that bracelet represents- my mom and her thoughtful creativity, my brother and the glimpses of him before he entered his weirdo teenager-ness, and, of course, 10 years of my life lived.
I'm sure there's more philosophical stuff I could throw in the mix but I'll spare you.
Point is: Let me know if you see a silver bracelet laying around that's about 10 years old and says 'papu' on it. :)
(wait! what if..... (how awesome would it be) if Barack was the one who found and returned it to me???!!? and then he fell in love with me, but recognizing his greater love for his beautiful wife and daughter, instead asked me to be his running mate and it was an ideal world where we didn't need to elect bad people when they make us fearful..... and good people actually won elections ......and Barack won and took me with him .... and, by some strange ideal fluke of nature I was suddenly VP of the US of A????!! First order of business would be to get everyone a new pair of socks (because all new beginnings should begin with new socks) and then we would start asking some tough questions about such thaings as economic disparities, and political motives and foreign policies... and every individual in the nation would take a good hard look at themselves and the world around them... and then encourage each other to envision a better world that they'd build together, because the only thing you can think about when you are wearing brand new socks.... (don't believe me? try it. I dare you))
(this tangent is sponsored by: my eerily similar schoolgirl crush on Zakir Hussian.... (before I knew he was much older than I thought and married) and my fantasy tour with him on a make-the-world-dance-tour (like the dancing Zion scene when they finally win the battleship war in the Matrix))
Lessons learned:
1. I need to keep better tabs on my sh*t.
and, more importantly,
2. No more typing when I'm deliriously tired.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Rups has a gun.
Wait, no, I was wrong. I mean, she's back. No gun. She's just back in the states. There's no gun. False alarm everyone. You may return to your regularly scheduled programming.
....
....
Monday, March 20, 2006
Do you love Viren Mehta? You should.
Night before Holi, 7 of us were across town at a café. Anup and I had ridden our bicycles and the ride home was about 45 min. I had my laptop/backpack with me. 11pm we leave. The girls were taking a rickshaw home and offered to take my bag so I wouldn’t have to bike it home. I give it to them.
I got home 20 minutes later. I asked for my bag so I could get some work done before I went to sleep (I have less than two weeks left in India at this point). They realize they forgot it in the rickshaw and run out to see if he’s still there: no such luck. Over 10 Indicorps and Manav Sadhna people worked until 3am making signs, putting them up in gas stations, taking me to the police stations, waiting at where the rickshaw dropped them off in case he returned… nothing.
I tried to be positive.
Next day was Holi. [I was sad and wanted to stay in bed, but the boys came downstairs and ambushed us with buckets of water and colored Holi powder. (There are still green and blue handprints on our walls from the struggle). I was even attacked while I was sleeping and woke up with blue dye on my back and my pillowcase. I went to celebrate at MS (I didn’t want to bring down everyone else’s day) and played with the colors, then water, then mud just like last year. At one point, we had all pinned Anup down in the mud and he got a hold of me and body slammed me into the mud (I’m screaming “inappropriate!” b/c it’s not culturally sensitive… he later claimed that his eyes were covered in mud and he didn’t know it was me) (liar). ]
In any case, later that day I discovered I had not only lost my laptop, but also the back up CD’s (b/c I had just burned them; they were still in the bag) and my planner, my notebook, everything. I still tried to stay positive and productive but when I realized that I no longer even had a PEN - I broke. I cried for a really, really long while.
With my lack of time left, I forced myself to not dwell on it or be sad- I simply don't have the time. However, later, when I realized that I was meeting the designer for the annual report and all the pictures were gone, I decided not to let my work go so easily. I made small flyers w/ Raju (who took a few hours out to write them up in Gujarati b/c he’s the best person ever!), xeroxed 600 copies, and passed them out to every rickshawwalla I saw. Must’ve talked to over 75 and I was losing my voice from repeating the story so many times.
Then I met up with Pankaj who said I had to take the rest of the night off or I would drive myself crazy. 10 minutes later, Virenbhai (of Manav Sadhna) calls. Says he just got a weird call from someone who may have my laptop. Asks if I’m willing to pay a reward. Yes, I tell him, whatever the guy wants. He says, hopefully, if the guy calls back, he’ll offer a reward and also explain that I am here doing good things and servicework.
He calls me back. Says he’s convinced the guy to come over to his house by assuring that the police won’t be involved. Tells me to get there as quickly as possible. On my bicycle it would’ve taken me an hour. Pankaj generously lends me his scooter, knowing full well I’ve never driven in India at night. (I don’t even know how to kickstart them properly!) I chug along the road and get there- this guy, Viren Mehta, asks me a million questions about what I had in the bag. When he is satisfied that the bag is mine, he goes home to bring it to me. (Turns out the rickshawwalla tried to sell it to him thinking it was a small TV. This guy, Virenbhai Mehta, says he needs to see it first to assess the price. Looks through the bag, realizes what happened, and calls a few of the first numbers in my notebook.) He wouldn’t even take a reward. Says God gives him everything he needs. Says he wouldn’t even take 5 rupees that don’t belong to him b/c somewhere down the road he’d pay for it a hundredfold. I’m still in shock. This guy singlehandedly renewed my faith in the world.
The whole night was so surreal: He, Viren Mehta, and his friend, Vinod, had apparently gone through my planner, asked if I made my dentist appointment on Friday (!!!). Then, Jayeshbhai calls to tell me that I can never sell this computer now b/c it’s a reminder of the good in the world. (Also proceeds to tell me to have sweet dreams tonight b/c I’ve made him so happy… but I should dream in black and white (???)) Then, on the bike ride home at midnight, while I’m still in shock and the streets are surreally empty, and I think that the world couldn’t possibly surprise me any more, I pass a nice man riding an elephant and talk to him for a bit. (Despite romanticized notions of India, seeing an elephant in big citay A’bad is few and far between; I’ve seen an elephant maybe twice in my year and a half here).
Everything was still in the bag. (I’m typing this on my laptop!!!) I am so lucky and so grateful. I am blessed.
AND I have my pen back.
I got home 20 minutes later. I asked for my bag so I could get some work done before I went to sleep (I have less than two weeks left in India at this point). They realize they forgot it in the rickshaw and run out to see if he’s still there: no such luck. Over 10 Indicorps and Manav Sadhna people worked until 3am making signs, putting them up in gas stations, taking me to the police stations, waiting at where the rickshaw dropped them off in case he returned… nothing.
I tried to be positive.
Next day was Holi. [I was sad and wanted to stay in bed, but the boys came downstairs and ambushed us with buckets of water and colored Holi powder. (There are still green and blue handprints on our walls from the struggle). I was even attacked while I was sleeping and woke up with blue dye on my back and my pillowcase. I went to celebrate at MS (I didn’t want to bring down everyone else’s day) and played with the colors, then water, then mud just like last year. At one point, we had all pinned Anup down in the mud and he got a hold of me and body slammed me into the mud (I’m screaming “inappropriate!” b/c it’s not culturally sensitive… he later claimed that his eyes were covered in mud and he didn’t know it was me) (liar). ]
In any case, later that day I discovered I had not only lost my laptop, but also the back up CD’s (b/c I had just burned them; they were still in the bag) and my planner, my notebook, everything. I still tried to stay positive and productive but when I realized that I no longer even had a PEN - I broke. I cried for a really, really long while.
With my lack of time left, I forced myself to not dwell on it or be sad- I simply don't have the time. However, later, when I realized that I was meeting the designer for the annual report and all the pictures were gone, I decided not to let my work go so easily. I made small flyers w/ Raju (who took a few hours out to write them up in Gujarati b/c he’s the best person ever!), xeroxed 600 copies, and passed them out to every rickshawwalla I saw. Must’ve talked to over 75 and I was losing my voice from repeating the story so many times.
Then I met up with Pankaj who said I had to take the rest of the night off or I would drive myself crazy. 10 minutes later, Virenbhai (of Manav Sadhna) calls. Says he just got a weird call from someone who may have my laptop. Asks if I’m willing to pay a reward. Yes, I tell him, whatever the guy wants. He says, hopefully, if the guy calls back, he’ll offer a reward and also explain that I am here doing good things and servicework.
He calls me back. Says he’s convinced the guy to come over to his house by assuring that the police won’t be involved. Tells me to get there as quickly as possible. On my bicycle it would’ve taken me an hour. Pankaj generously lends me his scooter, knowing full well I’ve never driven in India at night. (I don’t even know how to kickstart them properly!) I chug along the road and get there- this guy, Viren Mehta, asks me a million questions about what I had in the bag. When he is satisfied that the bag is mine, he goes home to bring it to me. (Turns out the rickshawwalla tried to sell it to him thinking it was a small TV. This guy, Virenbhai Mehta, says he needs to see it first to assess the price. Looks through the bag, realizes what happened, and calls a few of the first numbers in my notebook.) He wouldn’t even take a reward. Says God gives him everything he needs. Says he wouldn’t even take 5 rupees that don’t belong to him b/c somewhere down the road he’d pay for it a hundredfold. I’m still in shock. This guy singlehandedly renewed my faith in the world.
The whole night was so surreal: He, Viren Mehta, and his friend, Vinod, had apparently gone through my planner, asked if I made my dentist appointment on Friday (!!!). Then, Jayeshbhai calls to tell me that I can never sell this computer now b/c it’s a reminder of the good in the world. (Also proceeds to tell me to have sweet dreams tonight b/c I’ve made him so happy… but I should dream in black and white (???)) Then, on the bike ride home at midnight, while I’m still in shock and the streets are surreally empty, and I think that the world couldn’t possibly surprise me any more, I pass a nice man riding an elephant and talk to him for a bit. (Despite romanticized notions of India, seeing an elephant in big citay A’bad is few and far between; I’ve seen an elephant maybe twice in my year and a half here).
Everything was still in the bag. (I’m typing this on my laptop!!!) I am so lucky and so grateful. I am blessed.
AND I have my pen back.
Saturday, March 18, 2006
new developments and the old days
My laptop is gone. How and what happened doesn't matter, b/c it doesn't change the fact that it's gone.
With 10 days left in India and to finish the things I have left to do (including a trip to my villagers in Kutch, a trip to the animator in mumbai, designing a logo, designing a website, spending time with my dada and finishing his errands, finishing final edits and filming, coordinating the animations, preparing for an interview (the day after my return flight) .... agh, the list goes on.
In any case, I'm ok with it. Losing the independence that my laptop afforded my work habits definitely makes finishing my projects harder, but I'm trying to be positive.
Random story to make the day better: Spent the last two days with my Dada. I love him so much. (He and my grandmother helped raise me and shaped a lot of who I am today.) I was upset about my laptop- and he starts going on about how he'd met my grandmother, and how much he loved her and how lucky he was to have her with him for so long.. and how lucky we all were. (And there I was, sulking about my laptop.) Suddenly I was put into my place with a simple reminder: I am so very lucky. At the end of the day, my laptop is gone and yet I can't complain. I still have so much to be grateful for.
Anyway, went to Mumbai with him for the day. He got a top bunk on the train ride, so I asked the two people on the bottom bunks if they were willing to trade him. They point to their own walking sticks and say that they, too, would have a hard time getting up there. They start talking to my granddad... the man was a diamond merchant from Dubai who retired and moved back to India. He and my Dada talked about their respective pasts, and it turns out that this man and my dada used to work *across the street* from each other in the 50's and 60's in old city Mumbai, Zaveri Bazaar!! They went to the same jaylaybeewalla and knew the same people... then the man starts talking about the watchmaker who used to fix his watches. He worked in a room just big enough for one person ("back before Rolex and Timex's") and would always give his customers the same line about his punctuctuality, 'don't worry; it'll get done'. Turns out the man was talking about MY GRANDDAD and his old watch repair shop!!!! So crazy.
Later, went to visit my dada's 90 yr old friend and his 88 year old wife. The man would tilt his wife's head back and yell in her ear "IT'S POPATLAL!" (my dada) and she would scream "WHAT?" -- this goes back and forth a few times and then she screams, "I'M SORRY! I'M TOO OLD TO REMEMBER THINGS!" Then, he and my dada start talking about how people live in their old age is directly correlated with how well they lived their life... like the people who lived honest, hard-working lives were surrounded by a lot of love in their old age. The people that lied and cheated... it all eventually came back around. At one point the 90 year old pulls me aside and says, "It's all so simple. Just be a good person."
In any case, old people have a lot of stories to tell. I feel like I should make more time to listen and learn. There's a certain peace that comes with understanding their perspective and patience.
With 10 days left in India and to finish the things I have left to do (including a trip to my villagers in Kutch, a trip to the animator in mumbai, designing a logo, designing a website, spending time with my dada and finishing his errands, finishing final edits and filming, coordinating the animations, preparing for an interview (the day after my return flight) .... agh, the list goes on.
In any case, I'm ok with it. Losing the independence that my laptop afforded my work habits definitely makes finishing my projects harder, but I'm trying to be positive.
Random story to make the day better: Spent the last two days with my Dada. I love him so much. (He and my grandmother helped raise me and shaped a lot of who I am today.) I was upset about my laptop- and he starts going on about how he'd met my grandmother, and how much he loved her and how lucky he was to have her with him for so long.. and how lucky we all were. (And there I was, sulking about my laptop.) Suddenly I was put into my place with a simple reminder: I am so very lucky. At the end of the day, my laptop is gone and yet I can't complain. I still have so much to be grateful for.
Anyway, went to Mumbai with him for the day. He got a top bunk on the train ride, so I asked the two people on the bottom bunks if they were willing to trade him. They point to their own walking sticks and say that they, too, would have a hard time getting up there. They start talking to my granddad... the man was a diamond merchant from Dubai who retired and moved back to India. He and my Dada talked about their respective pasts, and it turns out that this man and my dada used to work *across the street* from each other in the 50's and 60's in old city Mumbai, Zaveri Bazaar!! They went to the same jaylaybeewalla and knew the same people... then the man starts talking about the watchmaker who used to fix his watches. He worked in a room just big enough for one person ("back before Rolex and Timex's") and would always give his customers the same line about his punctuctuality, 'don't worry; it'll get done'. Turns out the man was talking about MY GRANDDAD and his old watch repair shop!!!! So crazy.
Later, went to visit my dada's 90 yr old friend and his 88 year old wife. The man would tilt his wife's head back and yell in her ear "IT'S POPATLAL!" (my dada) and she would scream "WHAT?" -- this goes back and forth a few times and then she screams, "I'M SORRY! I'M TOO OLD TO REMEMBER THINGS!" Then, he and my dada start talking about how people live in their old age is directly correlated with how well they lived their life... like the people who lived honest, hard-working lives were surrounded by a lot of love in their old age. The people that lied and cheated... it all eventually came back around. At one point the 90 year old pulls me aside and says, "It's all so simple. Just be a good person."
In any case, old people have a lot of stories to tell. I feel like I should make more time to listen and learn. There's a certain peace that comes with understanding their perspective and patience.
Friday, March 10, 2006
"Do your work without having any expectation"
was a philosophy I grew up hearing. (Work can be interpreted as: fulfilling duty, following through with commitments or pursuing passion.) Anyway, the idea never really made sense to me.
Does it mean you aren't supposed to grow attached? If you're unattached to consequences, can you still envision the end goals you want to achieve? If you are unattached, is it still possible to be passionate?
Is anything worth doing if it doesn't make you passionate?
Then, last week, I had a revelation that makes me think I've been going about it the wrong way:
I've been in India working on these films since Jan. One of my first priorities was the animated piece. (FYI animation, I've discovered, is really hard- 2d animation requires 24 drawings PER SECOND of animated film. Mine is a little over 30 sec--> 30 sec x 24 drawings = a lot to ask someone to do as a volunteer project). Arch posed a challenge for me: don't pay anyone to do it. If you are trying to get PSA films out there to convince others to give back to their communities - you should first be able to convince the people you are working with. besides, the end product will be much more effective (even on a subconscious level) coming from someone who really understands what you are trying to do..)
I looked for an animator EVERYWHERE. Tapped every avenue I could think of. Animation/ design schools? Check. Animation companies? Check. Activist and volunteer platforms? Check. Posters, word of mouth, asking everyone I know? Check. Nothing. For over a month. Met a bunch of amazing people (including a woman that animated Ice Age!); everyone was excited but no one had time or resources to do it voluntarily: 'Inspiring youth is necessary. But not in such a time intensive, labor intensive business.' (The rest of the filming has been a similarly frustrating scenario- many Indian business people, I've discovered, love to say 'yes' even if they have NO INTENTION of following through. )
[I had also grown super attached to the project because it's important to me to see it happen- it's why I came back to India right? I was taking everything personally- project successes would leave me a bit too happy; setbacks would leave me completely devastated. I hit a point last week where I had had enough. I was ready to throw in the towel and come home. Nothing was going my way, despite giving every effort my all.]
Then, Monday, everything tipped. An animator from Mumbai, this bright-eyed guy who animates for Zee Entertainment committed to doing the project without payment!! (keep in mind, this was HUGE. I had met about 30+ animators who loved the idea but wouldn't do it.) The next day, I found out that he not only agreed, but he also convinced his compositor to do it without charge!!! Then other stuff started coming into place.... a place to tape, a 3chip video camera to use (more expensive than the cost of my entire year in India), a cameraman willing to teach me the basics of filming and direction, a video editor, access to editing equipment.... slowly the tide began to turn. Now I am creating new storyboards for other animations for a guy in Abad (who just moved here from Chicago) and another animation team in Hyderabad. :)
I had to lay the foundation but stuff only started to happen when it was ready to happen.
Maybe the idea of detachment doesn't need that I have to forgo my passion. Maybe it just means I have to have more faith that things happen when the time is right. It still requires the same amount of work and persistence and commitment. Maybe just not the anxiety. Maybe detachment just means that I have to keep pushing for the things that make me come alive, trusting that everything will fall into place in its own time.
****
ALSO- thanks for the concern, but the bombings were in Varnasi- not near me. The earthquakes were here... however, we all know how sound a sleeper I am. Didn't even know they happened until the next morning.
Does it mean you aren't supposed to grow attached? If you're unattached to consequences, can you still envision the end goals you want to achieve? If you are unattached, is it still possible to be passionate?
Is anything worth doing if it doesn't make you passionate?
Then, last week, I had a revelation that makes me think I've been going about it the wrong way:
I've been in India working on these films since Jan. One of my first priorities was the animated piece. (FYI animation, I've discovered, is really hard- 2d animation requires 24 drawings PER SECOND of animated film. Mine is a little over 30 sec--> 30 sec x 24 drawings = a lot to ask someone to do as a volunteer project). Arch posed a challenge for me: don't pay anyone to do it. If you are trying to get PSA films out there to convince others to give back to their communities - you should first be able to convince the people you are working with. besides, the end product will be much more effective (even on a subconscious level) coming from someone who really understands what you are trying to do..)
I looked for an animator EVERYWHERE. Tapped every avenue I could think of. Animation/ design schools? Check. Animation companies? Check. Activist and volunteer platforms? Check. Posters, word of mouth, asking everyone I know? Check. Nothing. For over a month. Met a bunch of amazing people (including a woman that animated Ice Age!); everyone was excited but no one had time or resources to do it voluntarily: 'Inspiring youth is necessary. But not in such a time intensive, labor intensive business.' (The rest of the filming has been a similarly frustrating scenario- many Indian business people, I've discovered, love to say 'yes' even if they have NO INTENTION of following through. )
[I had also grown super attached to the project because it's important to me to see it happen- it's why I came back to India right? I was taking everything personally- project successes would leave me a bit too happy; setbacks would leave me completely devastated. I hit a point last week where I had had enough. I was ready to throw in the towel and come home. Nothing was going my way, despite giving every effort my all.]
Then, Monday, everything tipped. An animator from Mumbai, this bright-eyed guy who animates for Zee Entertainment committed to doing the project without payment!! (keep in mind, this was HUGE. I had met about 30+ animators who loved the idea but wouldn't do it.) The next day, I found out that he not only agreed, but he also convinced his compositor to do it without charge!!! Then other stuff started coming into place.... a place to tape, a 3chip video camera to use (more expensive than the cost of my entire year in India), a cameraman willing to teach me the basics of filming and direction, a video editor, access to editing equipment.... slowly the tide began to turn. Now I am creating new storyboards for other animations for a guy in Abad (who just moved here from Chicago) and another animation team in Hyderabad. :)
I had to lay the foundation but stuff only started to happen when it was ready to happen.
Maybe the idea of detachment doesn't need that I have to forgo my passion. Maybe it just means I have to have more faith that things happen when the time is right. It still requires the same amount of work and persistence and commitment. Maybe just not the anxiety. Maybe detachment just means that I have to keep pushing for the things that make me come alive, trusting that everything will fall into place in its own time.
****
ALSO- thanks for the concern, but the bombings were in Varnasi- not near me. The earthquakes were here... however, we all know how sound a sleeper I am. Didn't even know they happened until the next morning.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Roy's article on the Bush visit Check the vaccuum ad mid-article as well. :)
Saving Face (Produced by Will Smith.) Sounds promising.
"Openly lesbian director Alice Wu's first feature film, Saving Face is about the relationship between 28-year-old closeted lesbian surgeon Wilhelmina “Wil” Pang (Michelle Krusiec) and her mother Ma (Joan Chen), a 48-year-old widow who only speaks Mandarin and socializes solely with other members of the Chinese American community in Flushing, New York. The movie explores the relationship between mother and daughter when Ma unexpectedly turns up on Wil’s Manhattan doorstep pregnant, just as Wil is falling in love with a ballerina, Vivian (Lynn Chen). Vivian becomes frustrated with Wil’s unwillingness to be open about their relationship (asking “is this just an illicit affair?”), while Ma pressures Wil to find a boyfriend, even as she copes with her own ostracization from her community. Changing circumstances finally force Ma and Wil to choose between following their hearts and conforming to social pressure, with comic and poignant results."
Saving Face (Produced by Will Smith.) Sounds promising.
"Openly lesbian director Alice Wu's first feature film, Saving Face is about the relationship between 28-year-old closeted lesbian surgeon Wilhelmina “Wil” Pang (Michelle Krusiec) and her mother Ma (Joan Chen), a 48-year-old widow who only speaks Mandarin and socializes solely with other members of the Chinese American community in Flushing, New York. The movie explores the relationship between mother and daughter when Ma unexpectedly turns up on Wil’s Manhattan doorstep pregnant, just as Wil is falling in love with a ballerina, Vivian (Lynn Chen). Vivian becomes frustrated with Wil’s unwillingness to be open about their relationship (asking “is this just an illicit affair?”), while Ma pressures Wil to find a boyfriend, even as she copes with her own ostracization from her community. Changing circumstances finally force Ma and Wil to choose between following their hearts and conforming to social pressure, with comic and poignant results."
Friday, February 24, 2006
incessant ramblings
ok. I haven't written here or to anyone or in my journal in about 234823094 years. In fact, I don't think I've written in any reflective form since my flight to the states... mid Nov. Since I stepped off that plane, life has been insane, and my thoughts have been in overdrive. I thought I had a handle on the whole 'culture shock' thing with the traveling I've done. But the difference this time was living, like *really* living here. Not feeling transitory. Being accepted in a way that I never felt in Milan despite how much I blended in.
I can crack jokes in Gujarati. I have a hold on Hindi. I can get people to believe I was born and raised here. The most empowering thing about my position is that I have choice. I can choose the best of both worlds... I get to decide the parts of me that I want to be 'Indian' and the parts of me I want to be 'American.'
Helping out with the friends without borders ( www.friendswithoutborders.com ) project. Was up til about 3 am putting the ‘world’s biggest’ card together in Mumbai. Not easy. Then ended up filming for their event in Abad- climbing train tracks and buildings to get the best shots, jumping in other peoples’ cabs… so fun. But these folks are hard-core committed to their message. And the spots already on the site are beautiful- check them out.
In any case, I was sitting on the bus the day before yesterday in Mumbai. (If you ever want to see the widest economic disparities ever, visit Mumbai... I have an uncle who makes the equivalent of 200k dollars in rupees... I have also met a woman who sleeps on the side of the road with all of her belongings as her pillow.) On the bus, a woman sat down in front of me. She was extremely pale (read: rich), short hair, older, wearing a freshly-ironed, super expensive salwar. (let's call her Old money.) Next stop- a woman sits down next to Old Money. New woman has a synthetic batik sari on, really dark skin (translation: hard labor worker), long hair up in a bun. Old Money puts a hand on her purse, moves her scarf, and moves over- practically smashing herself into the glass. I couldn't help starting a conversation with Old Money in my head:
"are you afraid the woman next to you is dirty? (she wasn't). are you afraid that being poor is contagious? do you really think you are all that different from her?... "
The incident made me really grateful for how I lived last year. When I first arrived, I would do things like cringe if an ant was crawling on me, or check under the mattress, or scream at a lizard in the room. Now, I think back to all the random places I have slept and ate and been… and I laugh about how much I have changed. (But it’s amazing to see myself grow so tangibly. It’s addictive.) Living like that puts everything in a different light. My experiences aren’t so dependent on the external circumstances of the situation anymore; it’s become about connecting with people. I know I can sit with anyone, anywhere and cut past the typical BS. Like that Oriah Mountain Dreamer poem… I don’t want to know who you are or where you come from. I want to figure out what it is that makes you come alive. I want to know what makes you impatient and want to jump out of your seat to get started. I want to know what is stopping you from throwing your full weight into trying to make your passion a reality. (It’s the realization that finally makes me feel like I am ready to be a teacher.)
It’s like we are all given this lump of clay. We can shape it and make it into whatever we choose. When we are little, there are hands on ours (parents, teachers, older siblings), teaching us how to shape, mold and form ourselves…. giving us tools to do it ourselves. But we fall into traps of always needing another pair of hands helping us shape. Or needing others to give us the tools we need. Why are we so afraid to try ourselves and see what we can come up with? What stops us from taking creative license over our own lives??? (And everyone at this point is thinking “but I have responsibilities and payments and expectations to fill and …..” These are all excuses; we choose to be a victim of our lives or an active player. There is *always* a way to make things happen- sometimes the path is tougher).
Granted, I do not have all the answers. I know there’s a ton of people who look at the decisions I have made and shake their heads. Let them. I had a breakdown the other day, and Arch, one of the most on-point women I have ever met, asked me if I had any regrets of any of the decisions I have made. I had to think about it for a minute- but I realized that I don’t. I don’t regret a single decision I’ve made or action I have taken. It always works out for the best in retrospect.. . sometimes it is just hard to remember. And sometimes I have a hard time knowing I can’t control everything about my own future. My faith is always tested in those moments… but those are the moments that shape who I am becoming. And I like who I am becoming. No regrets. Life is exactly as it should be.
I can crack jokes in Gujarati. I have a hold on Hindi. I can get people to believe I was born and raised here. The most empowering thing about my position is that I have choice. I can choose the best of both worlds... I get to decide the parts of me that I want to be 'Indian' and the parts of me I want to be 'American.'
Helping out with the friends without borders ( www.friendswithoutborders.com ) project. Was up til about 3 am putting the ‘world’s biggest’ card together in Mumbai. Not easy. Then ended up filming for their event in Abad- climbing train tracks and buildings to get the best shots, jumping in other peoples’ cabs… so fun. But these folks are hard-core committed to their message. And the spots already on the site are beautiful- check them out.
In any case, I was sitting on the bus the day before yesterday in Mumbai. (If you ever want to see the widest economic disparities ever, visit Mumbai... I have an uncle who makes the equivalent of 200k dollars in rupees... I have also met a woman who sleeps on the side of the road with all of her belongings as her pillow.) On the bus, a woman sat down in front of me. She was extremely pale (read: rich), short hair, older, wearing a freshly-ironed, super expensive salwar. (let's call her Old money.) Next stop- a woman sits down next to Old Money. New woman has a synthetic batik sari on, really dark skin (translation: hard labor worker), long hair up in a bun. Old Money puts a hand on her purse, moves her scarf, and moves over- practically smashing herself into the glass. I couldn't help starting a conversation with Old Money in my head:
"are you afraid the woman next to you is dirty? (she wasn't). are you afraid that being poor is contagious? do you really think you are all that different from her?... "
The incident made me really grateful for how I lived last year. When I first arrived, I would do things like cringe if an ant was crawling on me, or check under the mattress, or scream at a lizard in the room. Now, I think back to all the random places I have slept and ate and been… and I laugh about how much I have changed. (But it’s amazing to see myself grow so tangibly. It’s addictive.) Living like that puts everything in a different light. My experiences aren’t so dependent on the external circumstances of the situation anymore; it’s become about connecting with people. I know I can sit with anyone, anywhere and cut past the typical BS. Like that Oriah Mountain Dreamer poem… I don’t want to know who you are or where you come from. I want to figure out what it is that makes you come alive. I want to know what makes you impatient and want to jump out of your seat to get started. I want to know what is stopping you from throwing your full weight into trying to make your passion a reality. (It’s the realization that finally makes me feel like I am ready to be a teacher.)
It’s like we are all given this lump of clay. We can shape it and make it into whatever we choose. When we are little, there are hands on ours (parents, teachers, older siblings), teaching us how to shape, mold and form ourselves…. giving us tools to do it ourselves. But we fall into traps of always needing another pair of hands helping us shape. Or needing others to give us the tools we need. Why are we so afraid to try ourselves and see what we can come up with? What stops us from taking creative license over our own lives??? (And everyone at this point is thinking “but I have responsibilities and payments and expectations to fill and …..” These are all excuses; we choose to be a victim of our lives or an active player. There is *always* a way to make things happen- sometimes the path is tougher).
Granted, I do not have all the answers. I know there’s a ton of people who look at the decisions I have made and shake their heads. Let them. I had a breakdown the other day, and Arch, one of the most on-point women I have ever met, asked me if I had any regrets of any of the decisions I have made. I had to think about it for a minute- but I realized that I don’t. I don’t regret a single decision I’ve made or action I have taken. It always works out for the best in retrospect.. . sometimes it is just hard to remember. And sometimes I have a hard time knowing I can’t control everything about my own future. My faith is always tested in those moments… but those are the moments that shape who I am becoming. And I like who I am becoming. No regrets. Life is exactly as it should be.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Happy Valentines Day!
AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Jennaiya, my freakin roommate for life, has been a foundation of my life since 1st yr U of I. DB, one of the best guys ever, finally proposed after their 2987 yrs of dating. Married. My baby's getting married.
Sara, my 2% from high school, is in some serious trouble with all the stories I've got on her from over the years. Her and Josh are getting married too... Holy Lord.
I'm in both weddings b/c I love them so much. I need to lie down- I can't believe this craziness. I am so blessed.
(Got 3 of the most creative valentines ever- however, only 1 is ok to put up here. Thanks V.)
the good, bad, funny and WTF?!?!?
GOOD: My little brother is a grown up. He graduates college in May... (People are officially grown ups after college- it's a rule). He's a fireball activist prepping to change the world... currently working on a political campaign- as press secretary. He is leading a team of people!!! I'm beaming. I can't even think about it without my eyes beginning to well up.... the world has been so good to me.
BAD: Life and the writing/film projects I am working on have hit some bumps in the road. It's like I'm working on a shaky foundation because fundamental things keep changing. I'll talk about it later... but I'm super frustrated.
FUNNY: In the midst of my frustration, I have been calling people at home ... and apparently the phone place I use (really cheap) comes up as a New Jersey number. (Prob why it's so cheap). In any case, I am NOT in Jersey. To set the record straight- I am in India. But if you get a call from Jersey- pick it up. It's me.
WTF: ?!?!?!? Sara freakin 2% Baker, one of my closest friends from high school- is now engaged. AAAAAAAAAAA! Congrats babydoll. So excited for you!
BAD: Life and the writing/film projects I am working on have hit some bumps in the road. It's like I'm working on a shaky foundation because fundamental things keep changing. I'll talk about it later... but I'm super frustrated.
FUNNY: In the midst of my frustration, I have been calling people at home ... and apparently the phone place I use (really cheap) comes up as a New Jersey number. (Prob why it's so cheap). In any case, I am NOT in Jersey. To set the record straight- I am in India. But if you get a call from Jersey- pick it up. It's me.
WTF: ?!?!?!? Sara freakin 2% Baker, one of my closest friends from high school- is now engaged. AAAAAAAAAAA! Congrats babydoll. So excited for you!