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All of a sudden we were pressed against a wall as a caravan of men with enormous burlap bags atop their heads made their way by. We fell in line behind and followed them to the spice market. Here were stalls with tables piled with redolent spices, teas and herbs. Our noses were accosted with a symphony of scents. There is nothing like it.

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The following day we made our way to Agra, the city made famous by perhaps the most beautiful structure in the World; the Taj Mahal. This iconic building sits proudly on the banks of the Yamuna river. Our eyes were dazzled as this towering white marble edifice contrasted with the brilliant blue sky. Our photos could not do justice to the scale and grandeur of this magnificent monument of love. 

 

Compassion is a thread that runs through this populous country. One site  in Delhi that captures this caring characteristic is the Sikh Temple, one of the numerous religions that are practiced by millions in India.  There are many striking elements about the Sikh Temple; its golden dome, its immense pool for ritual bathing, the rhythmic chanting of its musical priests. But chief among them is it’s kitchen. For 365 days of the year the temple feeds over 10,000 meals for free. We walked into the ground floor preparation area that is mostly staffed by volunteers. They do everything from peeling vegetables, stirring gigantic pots of rice, to serving the hungry hordes that sit cross legged on the floor of the enormous dining area. As visitors we are able to pitch in and help flip the flat wheat bread called naan as it bakes quilt on hot griddles. 

 

Another venue of significance is the Smriti, or final home of Gandhi. The Mahatma was many things, including a lawyer, a sage, an activist, and a weaver. Inspired by Jesus, Gandhi also inspired Martin Luther King jr. All three practiced non-violence and tragically all three paid their lives for their stance to give hope to the hopeless. Gandhi’s home was a simple room where he slept, ate, did yoga and met leaders from around the world. It is only a few steps away from where he was assassinated in 1948.

 

The main focus of our travel to India was the state of Tamil Nadu, the southern most area of the country. We flew from Delhi to Chennai and began our visits to students and staff of schools supported by LPGM. These are remarkable institutions. Built originally by the Danish Lutheran Church in the previous century, they are simple yet sturdy structures that are havens for the poor. 

 

Over millennia India developed a caste system that segregated classes of people with no hope of mobility. The lowest of these classes are the untouchables or Dalits. These are people that, as their name indicates, are shunned by the rest of society. And it is for the Dalits that these schools were built. 

 

Today, thousands of children are offered an education, 3 meals a day and a uniform in these schools from K - 12th grade. They are literally being rescued from the pits of poverty and prejudice by the tools of education. They are the ones who are teaching their parents to read and become a life-line for their families. 

 

We visited many of the schools during our stay in Tamil Nadu. And they were expecting us! Upon arrival we were met by hundreds cheering children with a joyous procession of drums and dancers in native costumes.  It was electrifying to be enveloped by their radiant smiles and waving hands. 

 

We were fortunate to be housed on their campuses and to mingle with the students in their daily lives. There is nothing more precious than waking up in the morning to the sounds of children’s voices chattering on their way to the washroom and to breakfast. Later in the day they put on stupendous productions that showcase their athletic and artistic talents; ranging from rhythmic dancing to twirling fire sticks and building human pyramids. 

 

At the end of the tour when the group flew home to the States, Sarah and I stayed on a few days outside the coastal city of Pondicherry. Daily we would walk into town and explore the local environs. There is nothing quite like experiencing a culture feet-first. Along the roads, where traffic drives on left side, one is likely to encounter almost anything. Our daily walks were greeted by wandering brahmin bulls, goats nibbling the debris that is everywhere, saffron gowned monks sitting in contemplation, dozens of motorcycles with four individuals happily aboard, vendors selling fish or onions or coconuts or bananas, all freshly supplied.

 

Among the many aspects of Indian life that I found compelling was their relaxed grace with which they conducted themselves. In the midst of glaring poverty their was beauty and dignity. Along the dirt paths and gravel roads we wandered there were so many elements of grace. Every morning fresh kolams were sprinkled at the entrance of homes and shops. These are intricate line drawings made of white and colored sand that create lace-like designs. And then there are the beautiful saris worn by women and the striped cotton dhotis worn by men. Stunning and simple, homemade and vibrant.

 

And everywhere we were served chai. There is nothing quite like it. A small glass filled with piping hot tea, infused with ginger and laced with milk. We sat and took in the hospitality of our many hosts. We were their guests but treated as family. The joy is sublime in this part of the world. We take home the scents and smiles of this faraway land and will treasure them in our hearts for years to come.

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