Goals

It was over six months ago when I left “home.” I said goodbye to my dog, Reggie, left family and friends and boarded a flight to India. I expected this journey would lead me to achieve new goals, reach new levels of cultural awareness, and be challenged intellectually.

Little did I know, the first goal I’d accomplish on this trip would be one I set long ago.

It dates back to December 2011, sitting next to my dear friend, and fellow fellow, Joe Hinderstein. Joe and I were hanging around one day and decided to make new years resolutions. Among them, admittedly, were prototypical resolutions like “bench press 240lbs,” and “ask ____ girl on a date” (both never happened). More poignantly, we also created a slightly more obscure goal for me: to cry.

From my memory, I hadn’t shed a tear since my grandmother passed away in 2002 when I was 9 years old. I had gone through my teenage years without an emotional breakdown, so Joe and I decided it was time for me to let some steam off (I guess this is what minerva fellows do in our spare time). Anyway, 2011 didn’t prove successful for my goal, nor did 2012, 2013, or 2014.

I’m happy to report that I accomplished my goal on the first day of my minerva fellowship, when I left my family at the airport. It completely blindsided me. I was a mess, overwhelmed with a stabbing pain that discarded life-as-I-knew-it, replaced with the unknown.

For someone who considers themselves a fairly mentally-sound person, I was unfamiliar with how to handle the uncontrollable feelings that were taking over my psyche. I surrendered, which has been a recurring aspect throughout my education here in India.

This occurrence made me realize just how hard it can be to unchain yourself, willingly, from what is most meaningful. These opportunities do not happen, but rather must be sought with conscious effort. Letting go means you must attach yourself to new pillars, new stabilities, and new people. You create new families and get enthralled in new literature. Interests and hobbies change, but you stay the same.

In my most vulnerable state, sobbing through security lines in Boston, sniffling my way through a blurry layover in Frankfurt, I began to identify myself as completely shattered; I was starting my journey at rock bottom.

I knew this wouldn’t be the first time that I would feel this way over the course of my time in India. I also understood that one must break to be rebuilt. One must confront their weaknesses before moving forward, stronger, with conviction.

Time has passed. I find it amusing how my perspective has changed.  I left behind my family, but have been welcomed into a new one; I left my country and have fallen in love with the soil in India; I left my school and am trying to run a business; I left friends and made ones of different skin color, religion, and dinner-table discussions; I temporarily entombed my past but now obsess over my future.

Today my family arrives. While I am not homesick, it has simply been too long since I’ve seen their faces. And while I’ve fallen in love with this country, I am also eager to see how I respond to surrounding myself with the people where I feel most belonging.

We will be spending a few days in Jaipur/Bagru, then heading to Kerala (southern state of India). Tomorrow is my birthday and we will be having a traditional, Indian birthday party in Bagru. I cannot wait to show my family how to dance like an Indian, eat like an Indian, and expose them to the subtleties of this culture. They’ll be pushed out of their comfort zones – that I can assure, but it will all be good fun in the end.

 

Does everything happen for a reason?

A Question.

I recently got an email from a student who asked, in short, “do you think everything happens for a reason?” The question stemmed from my post “A Balancing Act,” where I discussed economic inequality in this country, and the sense of contentment many Indians have with their social standing. So, do I think everything happens for a reason?

My answer is no. Things happen for reasons, many of which are in your control.

My time in India has opened my mind to the concept of karma. The theory of karma is deeply imbedded in Hinduism, though its general practice really exists in human action.

At its core, karma is a selfish entity. Any action that makes you feel good, contributes to your ever-fluctuating karma. People build karma their entire lives; with each action there is a re-action, an outcome, which decides the trajectory of your life.

I support an existential model where actions guide the hand of your future. This overlaps with the theory of karma, which is found in every crevasse of Indian culture. This is partly why, I think, my transition to living in this country has been one of belonging.

“Things” do not just happen – you make them happen.

 Indeed, good things will happen to those who deserve it. In essence, positives will arise if you work hard and meet the right people. Though, my support of karma does not discriminate. It’s an innocently unbiased and simple formula.

Bad things happen to good people as well. Didn’t receive a promotion? Got rejected from a university? Got rejected from the Minerva Fellowship? These things happen. Do they happen for a reason? Yes, they happen for many reasons – and you created them. The most important part is how you handle each adversity. How do you keep building karma, even when facing failure? The mirror of human action is the most genuine portrayal of an individual. It never lies.

Karma is inescapable and relentless. If you get thrown in a ditch, you have a couple options: you can wait for help, dig deeper in the hole, or start figuring how to climb out. Fate didn’t put you in the hole. You did. Now find a way out, then climb a mountain, and never look back. There’s endless opportunities in this world, so why get bogged down on one of them?

What’s he saying?

People who wait their whole lives for fate to rescue them are wasting time. We put ourselves in situations and often wonder, “how did I get here?” Only you know the answer.

Here, I am rejecting the concept of fate. Fate is a dangerous concept for its followers. Outcomes are never “supposed” to happen to fulfill a mystical prophecy. They happen because of reason, action, and consequence.

Relating back to India

Many people (not all) in India believe in a lot of spiritual “stuff,” (yes, that’s a euphemism). While on one hand this gives people purpose, it does so at their peril. Today, for example, I stood in line for three hours to enter a famous Hindu Hanuman temple in Rajasthan that preforms live exorcisms on site – the only one of its kind in India. It was a tedious afternoon of waiting in line at this temple. Everyone was barefoot on freezing concrete that was lathered in mud. And, since the temple is known to extract evil spirits, there were occasionally manic people yelling and pushing their way through the sea of people. Chaos.

After getting shoved in the back countless times, I finally arrived at the shrine inside the temple walls. Immediately, people began digging hundreds of rupees out of their pockets to give to Gods in the belief that their wishes would be granted. These were people with practically no money, giving everything they had in the name of hope and fate. I watched in awe for ten seconds before we were ushered away from the shrine and out the exit by some temple employees.


Karma also incorporates reincarnation. The notion goes as follows: If you are born into a poor caste, have a disability, or work a low-paying job, people believe this is a result of low karma in a past life. As such, many people are satisfied with their socioeconomic standings in India. Even if you’re dirt poor, people have the mentality, “I deserve this,” as a result of karma carried over from a past life. It’s the complete opposite of Western capitalism, where upward mobility is built into the societal agenda – or at least into our minds (still working on putting it into practice). Here is where I depart from my support of karma. I do not believe in reincarnation.

What I do believe is that India has taught me how to progress. By progress, I am talking about increasing my karma.

Karma doesn’t just appear at your front door like a newspaper. You can’t order karma for delivery like Domino’s on a Sunday night. Instead, you must create karma yourself.

Returning from the Jagriti Yatra to Bagru, I immediately observed how stagnant the village seemed. It was the first time I’ve noticed the community as lethargic, as though everyone was waiting for something to happen. Now it’s a glaring eyesore. People wait for days, weeks, years, and lifetimes. Generations have passed, and people have waited: for change, for money, for God, enlightenment, and more. It’s encouraged me to ignite more action from those who are waiting.

You control your own future. Now make it happen.

The Yatra Files

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I’ve categorized my journey on the Jagriti Yatra into The Yatra Files. There are four posts below in the following order:

  • Gallery. Check this out if you want to really see what my 15-day train adventure was like.
  • Basic Recap. Read this if you don’t know what the Jagriti Yatra is, or want to learn more about the physical aspects of the journey.
  • What Actually Happened? This is a free-style piece of prose that covers the entirety of the yatra. This encapsulates everything from things we saw, places we went, and what we talked about. I recommend this for people that get bored with normal blog entries.
  • Journal Entries. I’ve copied excerpts from my daily journal I kept on the train. I didn’t change any language to keep a visceral portrayal of the experience.

Enjoy! If you have any feedback, or want to discuss any of my experiences, feel free to email me at cutterd@union.edu

The Yatra Files (2/4): Basic Recap

The Jagriti Yatra

15 days

12 destinations

8 Role Models

5,000 miles

1 country

1 train

450 Yatris (participants – from nearly every state in India, and 23 countries).

 Physical Conditions

I lived on a train for 15 days. If you have never been on an Indian train, that sentence doesn’t do much justice. Government-run sectors in India are overrun, dirty, outdated, and unorganized; the Indian Railway system is no exception. I’ve heard foreigners refer to Indian trains as “prisons” – their steel bars as windows, 5-foot bunk beds stacked 3-high, and a “catering service” that is reminiscent of death row.

If you’re a germaphobe, an Indian train is you’re worst nightmare. The word “clean” now has different standards. A friend living in Jaipur recently joked that the most germ-infested places in the world are door-handles on Indian trains. General sanitation in India is noticeably different from Western standards. On the train, food servers would walk the aisles passing out food with their bare hands. Nothing like the server sticking his hands deep into a giant vat of sliced cucumbers and tossing a heap on your plate. Again, there’s no choice but to put the cucumber in your mouth. You just do it. For my fellow Indian Yatris reading this, I’m sure you’re laughing. These are such negligible details about the train, but they stick out for a foreigner like myself.

Many Indians were impressed by the way many foreigners were handling these differences. While I had been on an Indian train before, I too was a bit taken back by these harsh, grotesque, realities. Yet, to be blunt, I had no other choice. There was nowhere to hide, no food alternatives, nowhere quiet to clear your head for five minutes, no real showers, no clean toilets, or first class amenities. Sometimes you just do things, and you come out stronger on the other side.

There was nowhere to escape, which made the experience more unique. I have no voice from talking for 15 straight days. As a person who enjoys from privacy, there wasn’t a chance to even read in a quiet place, or just sit and think. Thinking became a communal activity; we built trust within days, and broke privacy barriers immediately.

Layout of train:

There were a total of 450 “Yatris” – participants like me, 100 food staff, 30 volunteer staff, and 15 full-time Yatra employees. Maneuvering, feeding, and pleasing 500+ people on a train – from all different backgrounds – was a logistical nightmare. Train delays were a common occurrence, even for eight-hours on our final day.

Even moving around the train was a challenge. Simple things required planning and patience. With one sink shared between 40 people, brushing your teeth was a process. There were often four people huddled around the sink at once – one soaping their face, one shampooing their hair, one brushing their teeth, and the other applying toothpaste. Maybe even another trying to gel/oil their hair in the mirror. To change clothes, you had to displace four people to stand the aisle, causing a traffic jam and people yelling “Side, side, side” to allow them to pass. Going from one end of the train to the other took nearly fifteen minutes (not counting any stops for conversation). It was often a relief to finally get back to your “bed” after venturing to the other side of the train.

What we did:

Role Models and Yatri Interactions: The Jagriti Yatra brought us to 12 accomplished “role models” around India. These role models ranged from accomplished social entrepreneurs, spiritual leaders, CEO’s, doctors, and more.

While the Role Models were impressive and thought provoking, they more provided a starting point for our conversations. In fact, I found the 450 yatris around me to be the true Role Models of my experience. They were the ones that pushed my thinking, and exposed me to many varying perspectives.

Biz Gyan Tree and Panel Discussions:

Every yatri (participant) was part of a 7-person team called a “cohort.” Together, 3 cohorts made a “group,” and each group had a focus area. Here were the 7 sectors of focus:

  1. Agriculture and Agro Business
  2. Healthcare
  3. Energy
  4. Education
  5. Water and Sanitation
  6. Manufacturing
  7. Arts, Culture and Sports

My group was assigned to the education vertical. Each group was responsible for preparing a business plan to be implemented in “middle India.” When we visited villages in Deoria, we had the opportunity to test how viable our plans were against the market. Finally, we had a Biz Gyan Tree competiton where each group pitched their ideas to Role Models and experienced professionals. A few winning groups were chosen to return to Deoira next month to put their ideas into practice.

We also had a number of panel discussions throughout the yatra, which varied in topic. Overall, these panel discussions were more casual than our Role Model speeches, and provided the opportunity for us yatris to ask questions and engage wih the panel.

Why we did it:

The founder of the yatra, Shashank Mani – who traveled with us most of the way – admitted that the journey isn’t supposed to be comfortable. In fact, it’s meant to be opposite. You’re supposed to get claustrophobic. You’re supposed to be disgusted, frustrated, and humbled. You intentionally sleep next to someone with the most radically different background than your own, and you’ll learn to respect them. You’re living in an environment where you’re bound to get sick, where your body will ultimately shut down, where you’re so tired you become a walking zombie. It’s all part of the master plan. It’s part of the yatra.

2015 commemorates the 100-year anniversary of Gandhi’s train journey around India. After retuning from South Africa, Gandhi wanted to see the “real” India; he wanted to experience the struggles of his Indian comrades, he wanted to see the rural lands that his affluent colleagues wouldn’t tread near. As such, Gandhi rode in 3rd class on the Indian Railways for three years, packed into tiny compartments, rubbing shoulders with lower castes, and witnessing India through the most authentic lens possible. Our yatra attempted to mimic this journey.

The aim of the Jagriti Yatra is to “build India through enterprise.” The mentality is that India, the largest developing economy in the world, will be built by its middle classes. The notion goes as follows: the rich have enough money, and the lowest economic tiers get enough attention from NGO’s and volunteer organizations, which leaves Middle India: 60% of the population, 750 million people, located mostly in rural areas – neglected, poor, and stagnant. The yatra aims to bring entrepreneurial innovation from the train back to these villages. It aims to create jobs for Middle India, and develop this growing country through a conscious strategy. The Jagriti Yatra “seeks to inspire a new generation that recognizes that the only way they can discover purpose and find meaning is by self-employment.” Entrepreneurship, or social entrepreneurship to be more precise, is at the heart of this mission.

What I learned

I’ve seen a lot, and I’m incredibly grateful as a result. At age 22, I’ve witnessed more than most people have the chance to see in a lifetime. I’ve been to 18 countries, and in the past six months I’ve managed to cover nearly all of India.

So, now what? People on the Yatra refer to the experience as L.B.Y., (life before Yatra) and L.A.Y. (life after Yatra). My L.A.Y. starts now, and I feel more motivated than ever.

The Yatra exposed me, not only to the plethora of issues that India faces, but the number of people that are affected as a result. In that recognition, I also see opportunity. To me, this seems like a rare and critical time for India, and the world for that matter. I’ve returned to Bagru with a new perspective. I see more change and development than I did before. I see a threatened community on the cusp of opportunity.I see people’s lives changing dramatically in the next ten years, but they don’t see it coming. I see a need for guidance. It is concerning and exciting. It is threatening and challenging.

Naturally, people tend to surround themselves with similar individuals: same hometown, field of study, personality types, or even political affiliation. On the yatra, I was surrounded by the most diverse community I’ve ever seen, but palpably motivated – for change, for challenge, for development. We all had a hunger, a yearning for something, anything, in terms of both individual growth in addition to Indian development.

I had countless conversations of eerily similar nature: a twenty-something who went to a prestigious university in India, in the UK, or U.S., who has been left unfulfilled. How can we collaborate to create something with impact? This was our constant mindset. I routinely felt in the presence of greatness, on the cusp of an unknown drive. After every person I met, I truly thought to myself: Wow, that person is interesting. That doesn’t happen everyday. You can’t buy it, and people search for that type of energetic culture and never find it.

If you are interested in learning more about the Jagriti Yatra, I recommend visiting their website or Facebook page. An American yatra alumnus, Patrick Dowd, founded a similar journey in the United States. You can read about it here.

 

The Yatra Files (4/4): Journal Entries

I wrote daily journals on train. In order to give you the most authentic version of my experience, I’ve copied excerpts below. I’m using the exact words I used in my journal in order to give you the best understanding of what I was seeing, thinking, and feeling at that very moment.

Note: These are just excerpts – not full entries.

Day 1:

The most intelligent people I’ve ever met surround me. Everywhere I turn I meet accomplished entrepreneurs, CEOs, medical engineers, PhD’s, patented innovators, etc. People are from all over India – all over the world. And people work in different places as well: India, U.S., Canada, Qatar, Dubai, the list goes on. I feel welcome. I don’t feel intimated by the success around me, but rather motivated. Like I belong.

Everyone is on the same playing field on the train. No matter if you come from a village, or a penthouse in Mumbai, we are all together. We’re all stacked 3 beds high, living on-top of each other, sharing the same hole for a toilet. This trip is the ultimate steamroller for equality and balance. We are one.

Day 2:

Christmas. I woke up on a train. You can’t hide here. Teeth brushing, sleeping, hanging out – there is no solitude. My evening was packed full of political conversations about ISIS, capitalism, Donald Trump and electoral systems. I love it, but some people seem too excited, like this is the best thing they’ve ever done. We’ll see.

Day 3:

Euphoria is the word that comes to mind. I feel passion and thrill, a type that I haven’t experienced since my first weeks in India. As though something epic is in the air. Our Role Model visit today wasn’t overly interesting – we went to a school that uses traditional music to educate their students, and also runs off solar energy.

Discussed the topic of marriage in India today. Still baffles me how most of these people will have their marriages arraigned. It is one thing that education will never change in India – love marriages simply aren’t the norm. Development doesn’t have tentacles everywhere – some things remain untouched.

Took my first “shower” today. I used a plastic water bottle to bathe… it was awesome. Classic. Bunch of shirtless Indians belting out songs in Hindi. Didn’t matter they weren’t real showers or the water was freezing. All different walks of life. Reminded me of camp. The train looks like a cabin now with underwear and wet towels hanging from bungee cords. Nobody is comfortable, but at least we all have that in common.

Day 4:

Fatigued and tired, but battling through. It is not even 8am and I’ve already had three cups of chai and breakfast. We are almost in Bangalore. An absolute mess brushing teeth this morning. 30 people trying to use one sink at the same time. We ran out of water before it was my turn.

We saw Shiri Shri Ravishankar (famous guru) speak about the “Art of Living.” Wasn’t my favorite visit, but I learned a lot about the business side of spirituality. He has a huge following. An educational experience to say the least.

Day 5:

The landscape is changing and so am I. Train is home; outside is just a placeholder for the time we spend on this moving vehicle.

The south is beautiful – I am in Tamil Nadu. Went to Aravind Eye care today – they run a great healthcare model that has given 4.5 million cataract surgeries in the past 4 years. The volume of patients they are seeing is simply impressive.

Their model is based on the honor system: if you are poor, you get free eye care, if you can afford some care, you get a subsidy, and if you are rich, you pay for it. The system works really well here, but I don’t see it working in the West. In India, people know their “place” in society, but in Western culture, there is less differentiation between social class. Caste obviously plays a role in this contrast.

Day 6:

Hot, humid, and sweaty. We spent the evening singing Hindi songs – very fun.

Day 7:

We move north. It’s a picturesque morning as we move our way to Vishakhapatnam: a glowing green on all the trees, shining from the sun’s reflection. You can see the dew on the every leaf this morning as the train goes on. The sun rising beyond the hills – it will be another hot day today. I could repeat this every morning if I could. I’m yearning to run here.

Day 8:

New Years Eve. My first, and probably last, New Years I’ll ever spend on a train. I’ll never forget it. We went to Gram Vikas is Orissa – my favorite Role Model to date. They provide sanitation projects (mainly toilets) to rural villages. We visited one village where they work, which was a nice experience. Reminded me of Bagru. I was shocked how the Indians were acting – many had never been to a village in their lives. They were more foreign than I. I felt comfortable talking to the people in that village, like I was in Bagru again. Simple living.

After our visit we went to a school where there was a massive dance party. I danced a lot. Indians are always ready for a dance party.

When I got back to the train I started vomiting. A lot. My first time getting sick in nearly seven months in India – my body can’t handle the oil from this food. It is rejecting it completely.

Living in carriage house at Union last year was definitely training for tonight. Spending New Years on a train with 450 youngsters, dancing and blasting music, while I was throwing up – brought me back to living in an animal house. Living in such a dirty and constantly loud environment last year prepared me well for this. Sometimes no matter how loud and annoying people get, you just have to streamline their enjoyment to lift up your own spirit. Patience is key.

Day 9

I’ve gotten used to the movement of the train. It helps me sleep. My jeans are dirty. I mean fucking dirty. I don’t have another pair of pants.

We’ve spent all day on the train. I am sick. With each passing day, the cleanliness, hygiene, and overall health of the train is decreasing. There seems to be a filth piling up on every object in this train; it is an “inescapable modality” as James Joyce would say.

I am becoming more intolerant of those around me. Small things tick me off. I desperately miss the structured, organized, and healthy lifestyle of my summers at home. I need protein – I feel frail. The singing around is ceaseless – I must learn to adapt and embrace it. Everything is getting under my skin, but I’m trying to find the beautiful chaos of it all that I know exists. It has stolen my heart before, and it will again.

Day 10:

Rajgir. The birthplace of Jainism and Buddhism. The history is incredible. We visited Nalanda University – a progressive type of school with a liberal arts model. Made me realize how far ahead the U.S. is in terms of university education models.

Eager for challenge. I don’t know what 2016 will bring, but I am committed to running a 50-mile race this year.

Day 11:

Deoria. A long delay this morning, but we made it. Today is the final day of our Biz Gyan Tree competition (business plan). We are trying to implement business models in this impoverished agricultural district. In contrast to Rajasthan, this place is lush and green – similar to Bagru, but different in its aesthetics.

Got my appetite back for the first time in three days. We had two hours to prepare our business pitch. I was elected CEO. It was a fun time. We made a good pitch – I don’t think we will win, but we came together as a team and got creative. That’s what matters.

At night we had a fun dance party. Everyone here seems happy the business plan competition is over – a more relaxed vibe.

Day 12:

We slept on the dirt floor of a school in Deoria last night. It was freezing, but my sleeping bag and winter hat saved me. I feel even closer to these people after sleeping alongside them in such a rogue environment. We literally kept each other warm last night.

Full day today on the train. Crazy how 24 hours on a train doesn’t even seem long to me right now. Just another sunrise, sunset…the way it goes.

Day 13:

Delhi – the nation’s capitol. We went to Gandhiji’s grave to pay homage to his journey that we are replicating 100 years later. A true inspiration, though a stubborn man (in an admirable sense). Though, it did end up getting him assassinated by another Hindu. A strange, sad story. An MLK-like figure here. Father of this country.

We sat in an auditorium this afternoon. I slept a lot. Pure exhaustion. My body is struggling with this food.

At night we went to Goonj, a great Role Model visit. They make women’s sanitation pads out of recycled fabric and other goods. It was an honest and blunt portrayal of Indian poverty.

The Role Model was originally inspired after he worked in Delhi with a man who collects dead bodies off the street for 200 rupees each. Heart-wrenching speech.

Day 14:

Back in Rajasthan [the state where Bagru is]. I feel home. Woke up this morning with a head-cold, but a jump in my step. The feeling I get in this desert is indescribable. People even commented that they could tell I was near Bagru because of how good of a mood I was in.

We went to Barefoot College – my second visit there. They have “solar mommas” from villages all over the world who come here to do solar engineering. Many can’t read or write, but they can make a solar panel. I saw the same women from South Africa that I had met three months ago. They are still at Barefoot making solar panels, and are excited to go back and “light up their village” in South Africa. I would use the word “inspiring,” though I learned that word can be misleading…we’re often inspired by something but don’t actually follow up on that feeling.

Nice to finally meet Bunker Roy, the founder of Barefoot College. I asked him a question in the Q+A about replicability – impressed with his answer. His model works. The success speaks for itself.

Day 15:

Final day. Everyone is dressed in formal Indian clothes. Looking good despite our poor hygiene. I feel like I’ve pressed pause on my life and it’s about to resume. A bit daunting, while also exciting. Trains make you think; naturally, you just stare out the window and your mind wanders. What a genius journey this has been.

Day 16:

Ready to get off the train – we’ve been delayed nearly 6 hours getting into Mumbai. Everyone is sick, but we’re still writing goodbye letters and diary entries. We’ve been transformed. A lifelong network. Lifelong friends. Onto the next one.