Travels with Arun Hauser

Blog has moved

2009-05-16T07:17:00.000-07:00

Loyal Readers,

My blog has moved to http://www.aaronhauser.com

Thank you for your readership.

Hasta,
Arun Aaron

The Boden-Haus Begins

2009-03-28T11:58:00.001-07:00

A Baking Studio via Google SketchUp

Sandstone was the closest of the default textures to rammed earth.

Boden \bōden\

-noun

1. Soil

2. Earth

3. Base

Haus \'haús\

-noun

1. House

2. Building

3. Establishment

"Boden-Haus" is German for "Earth House." Before I can talk more about the Boden-Haus, I must explain rammed earth a bit for those of you who are unfamiliar with this most ancient of construction methods.

It is with great reluctance and greater difficulty that I attempt to explain rammed earth and my interest in it. In fact, I am so reluctant, so difficulted, that I just typed "quote reluctance" in Google, and the fruit of my search was this quote from Jean Racine:

There is nothing so easy but that it becomes difficult when you do it with reluctance.

Ah, that explains that. Let me continue more boldly than before.

Rammed earth construction is a straightforward process with amazing results: one places soil into a formwork and compacts it into layers, making the walls of a house, a house that can last for hundreds of years. The rammed earth house is warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer than most buildings made of other forms of constructions. Thick walls of unfired earth dampen noise. With walls resembling stone, a rammed earth house is virtually fireproof and windproof. The walls are too dense for vermin to gnaw into, too dense for vegetation to take root. With proper care, water is no more damaging to the rammed earth house than any other type of house. Like concrete, rammed earth walls strengthen over time, but are strong enough upon completion to support a roof and to be inhabited. Rammed earth houses exist and provide comfort at the sultry ecuador or in colder climates, such those climates of Canada, Russia and Scandinavia. Its beauty cannot be denied.

Take a minute, go to images.google.com and search for "rammed earth." You will be impressed by how pretty and grand it can be. Here is a plantation house in South Carolina.

Here is a really good example of what some modern designers have done with its aesthetic potential http://heatkit.com/graphics/clients/c-vanh04.jpg.

The labor involved with rammed earth is significant, and care must be taken in rammed earth design. Through various field tests, you must make sure that the soil is the right composition of gravel, sand, silt and clay to ensure optimal densification. Then, you must excavate and transport the soil to the building cite, where it must be sieved and mixed to the determined optimal-level of soil and moisture before it is placed in the formwork. The formwork must be strong enough to withstand the immense force exerted on all its sides during the ramming process: rammed earth has a density of between 1800 and 2200 kg/m³, comparable to the density of sandstone, around 2400 kg/m³, so you are basically making sandstone. Actually, because the primary aggregate of a rammed earth wall is sand, rammed earth walls resemble sandstone when completed. Around 4"-5" of soil is placed in the formwork at a time, and this is compacted with a rammer to about half its volume. In moist climates, the foundation of rammed earth must be elevated to between 1'-2' above the ground to prevent rain from splashing up from the ground and damaging the wall. There is typically a bit more overhang on the eaves of rammed earth roofs than the roofs of other buildings to minimize its exposure to the rain. The more curious of the readers are wondering about roofs and door and window openings. Well, this is not a how-to blog. Suffice it to say, extra care must be taken with the jambs, sills (only with windows) and lintels (load-bearing support beam above windows and doors) of windows and doors. My goodness, that sort of sounded angry.

Many of you are familiar with rammed earth structures. A significant part of the Great Wall of China is made of rammed earth. Alhambra at Granada in Spain is made of rammed earth, or as it is called in Spanish, tapial

http://www.granadaphoto.com/granadainwhite/images/Alhambra%20desde%20Generalife.jpg

Many homes still inhabited near Lyon, France date back 600-900 years and are made of rammed earth, or as it is called in French, pisé de terre.

There are, no doubt, doubters amongst you. In his 1924 book, Karl Ellington wrote a bit about the skepticism he faced after years in the field:

"The fact that the pisé method is not known everywhere is by many taken as indicating or proving that pisé must have been tried and found wanting.

But anyone who will give a little more attention to the subject will find, that in some parts of the world the pisé-method has been in use for several thousand years. And in countries where the pisé-method has not been practiced it has never been tried because of the presence of wood or brick or other materials, -and tradition has cared for the continued use of methods once established, just as pisé has kept its ground from times remote and until the present day in localities where everyone knows the merits of the method and is familiar with the requirements in utilizing it.

If it only was as easy to remove prejudice as to build with pisé, the method would be in use everywhere today."

Here a picture of a rammed earth building in Sweden from Mr. Ellington's book.

It occurs to me that I could continue citing others interested in or involved with rammed earth (e.g., Thomas Jefferson, William Henry Harrison, Frank Lloyd Wright, etc.), defending it as a preferred construction method for residences and other buildings; however, I am too young in the process to defend it whole-heartedly: thus far, my experience in rammed earth is limited to hours of research and a few hours of ramming earth in Auroville. And while my research produced many great sources trumpeting the virtues of rammed earth, and ramming earth in Auroville produced a beautiful five foot wall, if I am honest with myself, I, too, am amongst the doubters. I have not built anything substantial with it yet, have not experienced the process. Which brings me back to the Boden-Haus.

Robert and Rachel, a married couple who graduated from Davidson College, operate an organic farm in Greenville, Tennessee. We were acquaintances in college, but our mutual friend Arthur put us into contact, as he was aware of my interest in rammed earth and their commitment to sustainable, healthy living. They were gracious enough to invite me to build my first rammed earth building on their farm. Rachel is a baker and is in need of a proper space in which she can do baking things. So, this first building will be utilized as such.

Here are some pictures from the ground-breaking ceremony.

The Cite of the Boden-Haus Rachel Breaking Ground

Robert Breaking Ground

Me Breaking Ground

Being German, We Gave Its Foundation Beer

The Boden-Haus is still in its early stages, and I now spend my days (when it's not raining) shoveling soil and sourcing stones, as we need 26 tons of each for the project. Shoveling is harder work than one might think, unless one has done it, but it is really nice to be outside in beautiful Tennessee. I will be updating this blog more often as work progresses.

I've also begun growing a chinstrap beard out and will continue to do so until the Boden-Haus is complete. I hope to look like Solon Robinson, the inspiration for the beard.

But Still He Moves

2009-01-26T15:54:00.000-08:00

Since I last wrote, I've traveled much and much has happened. I left Mumbai, just a few weeks before the tragic shootings, and traveled to London for a week to visit my friends. While I wish I could say my time in London was colored with thoughts of England's 200 year occupation of India and the appropriateness of my visit to London before returning to the United States of America, I can't. I gave no thought to visiting the sites Gandhi described in his autobiography. Nor did I search for the old buildings of the East India Company or visit any of the London museums to see the artifacts acquired during India's occupation. I generally don't think or travel as such. Plus, I was a bit overwhelmed by my return to the West and by all the compliments on my tan. My time in London was similar to my last couple months in India in that it was spent eating, partying and time passing with friends.

A description of my trip to London would be incomplete, however, if I did not mention how my concern about the global economic hardships grew while there. In India, I watched much news coverage in my hotel rooms of the struggling stock markets and economies. The crisis, however, seemed remote for two reasons. First, the feel on the streets of India was the same as when I arrived there before the crisis. Perhaps most indians were not and are not as directly affected as those in the West. This point becomes pretty easy to believe when you consider that over 50% of Mumbai's population already live in slums. Second, much of the coverage detailed hardships that did not seem to apply to me, such as how difficult it is becoming for bachelors working in the finance or IT sectors to find brides. Clever to-be-brides, you see, are wary of the insecurity of these professions and are looking for their prospective husbands to be in more stable fields. Perhaps they are looking for husbands who produce cheap alcohol, a thriving industry during hard times (free tip for all the would-be brides reading this). While I found these stories interesting from a cultural perspective, it made the hardships of the crisis seem limited rather than general. In London, however, one of the world's financial centers, the tension of the struggling global economy was palpable. It seemed everywhere I went I heard snippets of conversations about the desperate state of the job and stock markets. Despite the ability of the accent and modest manner of Londoners to take the edge off pain or difficulties (for an example of this type in "Charlie bit my finger" in Youtube), I found I was becoming increasingly tense. It makes me wonder whether a third reason the crisis did not seem so all-consuming to me while in India was that I did not understand the local languages, so I may not have picked up on similar conversations while standing at the chai wala stand. I digress. My concern climaxed in London during a conversation I was having with some one who I'd met in London. After an hour or so of listening to him talk about complete economic meltdown, my heart began to race. To calm myself down I asked him to take a step back from the Terminator-esque scenarios and tell me whether he was really as concerned as he seemed to be. He told me that he was not. My heart rate slowed. Then he said, "Because I'm pretty sure I can live in the jungle for two years." Could he have said anything worse? My heart rate doubled.

When I said that this conversation was the climax of my concern, I mean that I have not been as anxious about the economy since that moment. In part, it was shocking to return to a West that seemed so changed from the one I left. How much happened during those five months from June-November. Also, I have heard on the news reassuring talk about sound financials of many business in many sectors, so perhaps much of the concern resembles hysteria, perhaps not. Lastly, although it seems clear that we have some difficult times ahead and regardless of the depth of the difficulties, opportunities are present. As a wise friend of mine put it, if Americans need a crisis like this, even a depression, to start behaving more responsibly, sustainably, then, so be it. While I am no economist, though I do have the proud distinction of twice failing the first level of CFA exams, this crisis could be a wake-up call to all of us that some of our excesses must be curtailed or eliminated. With this in mind, I have continued, con gusto, my research in and plans for rammed earth. There is much to say about the timing and opportunities of the recent economic downturn and my interest in rammed earth. Much more on that later...maybe not today, but sometime. Back to my last two months.

My tan and the compliments related thereto faded quickly after returning to the cold of New York. It's a strange feeling to return to New York, and it remains a mystery to me how quickly I return to the familiar mindset of being in New York, regardless of whether I spent a weekend away in Boston or five months away in India. I think Billy Joel wrote a song about it. It was great to be back in New York and see my mother and friends there (type in "Best 8 Count Dance Ever" in Youtube to see some of my activities there...I'm the guy in the wig, wearing an apron). While I intended to hit the ground running on my research at the New York Public Library, I prioritized seeing my friends and family there and was not able to utilize the amazing resource of that sacred library. It is much on my mind to return to New York in the next couple of weeks to continue with my rammed earth project. More to come on that, as well.

From New York, I traveled to Columbus, Ohio and celebrated Thanksgiving at my brother and sister-in-laws house. It was here that I also met, for the first time, my awesome nephew, Barrett. He is too cute. He was scared of me at first, like many people, but he quickly warmed up to me, like some people. I pretty sure I heard him say that I am his favorite person on the planet. Here is a video and picture of me with the little one.

Bear trying to beat box...

Having much time on my hand and not wanting to continue paying for a storage in New York, I returned to New York for three days or so and picked up all my stuff (which fits comfortably in one minivan provided by my little sister) and drove to Ohio. There I spent another week with my brother, sister-in-law and nephew. It was also during this trip that I got, for the first time, to see my friend Justin Camp perform stand-up. He is incredibly funny, and do not be surprised if he becomes a household name in the next couple years. You can check him out on Youtube.

Ohio wasn't cold enough for me, so I traveled to Fergus Falls, Minnesota, which I'm pretty sure is where cold was invented. This is where my sister and brother-in-law live and where we decided to celebrate Christmas. I've never felt so close to Santa Claus. Though most of the days were around -10⁰F, on the warmest day, 10⁰F, I decided to walk 15 blocks to my sisters church to say hello. About halfway through the walk, I reached up to itch my beard and realized I had two icicles coming from my nose. You've probably seen such icicles on mountain climbers. In that way, and only in that way, I felt cool about being so icicled. Growing up in Ohio, I thought I knew cold, but I was wrong. Here are a few photos from my trip up there. The squirrel that you see probably weighed ten pounds to live through the cold.

Here are twelve of the seventeen family members at Christmas

From Minnesota, I took a bus from the near the top of the US to near the bottom to Austin, TX. Austin is one of the coolest cities I have ever visited. Here I spent a week with my friend Erica, and she showed me many amazing restaurants and local sites of Austin. In Austin, there is great music every night, excellent Mexican food and one of the municipal swimming pools is a huge natural spring-fed pool with a floor of the natural stone instead of concrete. Tres cool. A week definitely was not enough time in Austin, but I was excited to get to my Uncle Warren's in Florida, so I left. Since flying and renting a car and driving to Florida cost the same amount of money, I decided to make the 18 hour drive. Half-way through the trip my fear of flying is trumped by the nuisance of driving half-way across the country. The last three hours of the trip were spent with the radio and air-conditioners on their maximum settings to keep me awake. However, in a state of near-hypothermia, I arrived at my uncle's place near Daytona Beach.

I have been here for two weeks and already I have beaten my uncle 30+ times at chess, visited my good friends and started training for a marathon I am going to run in September with my sister-in-law, Heather. Two weekends ago, I visited my friend Corey in New Smyrna Beach. He lives very close to here and will be taking a break from studying for the Florida Bar to watch the Super Bowl together next weekend. Last night I returned from a weekend with some of my other closest friends, Jeffrey and Mary Kat. I got to meet their new adorable twins, Charlotte Lee and Margot Ellen, as well as spend some times with their incredibly lovable 20 month-old, Cutter. He is such a great kid. At the playground, I watched Cutter go up to a boy who had just gone down a slide and tap the boy and the shoulder and clap for him. Very cute. The only thing bitter-sweet about the weekend was observing this family being so active and productive, considering they have three children under 2 and Jeffrey is working 80 hours/week in his surgery residency. It made me feel bad about my time-management skills. Maybe I need to have three children.

It's not been all fun and games since I've been here. I've also read two books and over 50 articles about rammed earth. I have compiled the research and will spend my time putting together a little booklet about my research and the project I have planned for the Spring. Maybe I'll even complete this idea I have for a children's book called, Me and My Friend, Rammed Earth Wall. Joke...sort of.

Here is a brand new update. As I was just returning from the grocery store, the dog of one of my uncle's neighbor decided to bite me on the leg as I walked by. Being a little Jack Russell Terrier, my first impulse was to kick it across the yard, but I followed my second instinct, which was to walk away holding my leg in a confused state. It only broke the skin a little bit, but I can't help but think this is some sort of repayment for the jokes I made at my friend Priyanka's expense after she was bitten by a stray dog in Auroville, India. Of course, she required rabies medicine, and I don't think that I do, but who knows the proper way to deal with such things. My impulse is to return to the yard and follow-up on my first instinct.

Rajasthan, Agra, Hampi, Bangalore, Kerala, Bengaluru, Hyderabad and Sparta (con't)

2008-10-24T02:20:00.000-07:00

Sporting a supernice, white kurta gifted to me by Puneet and Vrushali, I left the comforts of Rajasthan and headed to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. My overnight train arrived just after sunrise, which was a perfect time to head to the Taj. All the museums and historic sites that I've visited in India have had two prices, a 10-30 rupee charge for Indians and a 100-200 rupee charge for Foreigners. The Taj Mahal had a Foreigner price of 750 rupees (around $17). While the price was steep, it did include a 100ml bottle of water, shoe covers and a well-maintained Taj Mahal. I do not have much to say about the Taj Mahal. It was pretty but not remarkable when compared to some of the other sites I've seen here. It took 20,000 people 17 years to build it. Also, I've heard that the ruler who had it built, Shah Jahan, had the architect's hands removed when it was completed so that he could not design another one. This seems like a completely ineffective way of ensuring that the architect remained mum on the secrets of the Taj Mahal, as heads, not hands, contain secrets. That sort of sounds scary. Hearts contain secrets, too. That sounds romantic. Shut up, Aaron.

I broke my fast in full-view of the Taj Mahal. This rooftop restaurant also had monkeys that attacked my waiter when he was bringing my meal. While he ran to get his anti-monkey pipe, they drank my coffee, hissed at me, and ate some of my omelet. After chasing them off, he tried to serve me what was left of my food and coffee. I graciously declined, making true on my promise years ago never to eat monkey-molested food. I practice Safe Eating. Thoroughly entertained, I paid the waiter the deserved 50 rupees, the going rate for a monkey fighter, ensuring that he would not also be attacked by his boss.

After Agra, I traveled five or so hours to Gwalior, a city known for its fort. I wanted a nice meal after the day's festivities, and so I headed to a restaurant that was highly-recommended by Lonely Planet. It was closed. Close by there was a group of rickshaw drivers who I asked to take me to Gwalior's nicest restaurant. They conferred, and one of them took me to the restaurant...McDonald's. Again, thoroughly entertained, I paid the rickshaw driver who was really just trying to make me feel at home. Then, I called Vrushali in Jaipur, who had visited Gwalior, and she recommended a really nice kebab place.

Unfortunately, I missed seeing the fort in Gwalior, as I was laid-low by yet another case of food poisoning (unrelated to the kebabs, methinks), and started a 42 hour journey back down to South India. After train, bus and rickshaw, I arrived in Hampi, a city of ruins in north Karnataka. Hampi is quite a treat. There are impossible rock formations that remind me of the hoodoos in Bryce Canyon National Park. Plus, unlike the sites in North India, I find the sites of South India to be uncrowded and clean. While walking to an abandoned temple that looked exactly like King Louie's ruins in the Jungle Book, I met a couple of fellow travelers. The next day a whole group of us went swimming amongst the amazing boulders in Hampi's reservoir, said to be full of crocodiles. Who knows? It definitely had water buffalo and locals to sell us beer and snacks.

Two days in Hampi were not enough, but I headed back to Bangalore to visit my friends Louella, Varsha, Nishith, Ellen, Harsha and others from Auroville. It was during the overnight bus that I acquired scabies on my legs and feet and contact dermatitis on my arms. Louella offered to take me to a hospital, but I thought it was just another case of impetigo, like the one I had acquired two months before on a bus trip (apparently from biting cockroaches. Who knew they bite?). I should have listened to Louella because after two days of ineffective antibiotic cream application, my itching and rash worsened. I saw the lines in the rash and knew it was scabies, as had seen and made fun of scabies on my friend Max who got them at a hotel in Louisiana. The doctor confirmed my suspicion, and I spent the next two days boiling clothes and sheets, applying lotions and taking pills. While they are a pest, but they are a distant second to bed bugs in my book.

Ellen, a Kiwi, and I, a Yankee, took an overnight bus (luxury, A/C, Volvo, unlike the overnight non-A/C, rash buses I'd taken) to Kerala to travel there for a week. Kavita, my ex-coworker whose family is from Kerala, gave some really good tips on where to go. Here I must apologize to Susan, a friend from Auroville (her picture is at the end of my first blost), who is from Kerala and prepared a whole list of things for us to see and do there. While I'm sure the document was amazing, as she is a generous perfectionist, I was not able to find a computer to open the document, as the computers I'm using these days have only MSWord 1988 loaded on them. As my friend Antim says, no great effort is wasted, so if anyone is planning a trip to Kerala, I have an amazing document to guide you.

Ellen and I spent the first day in Fort Cochin, a pretty port town visited by Vasco De Gama. We then headed to Alleppey, the "Venice of the East" and the beginning of the infamous Kerala Back Waters. We were going to rent a house boat but they seemed to be for couples, too romantic that is. So we rented a gondola type boat with another female traveler, Anna, and spent 6 hours on this fresh water paradise. We saw eagles, beautiful flora and even a couple of snakes. After the tour Ellen, Anna and I had dinner and were searching for an Internet cafe when I guy on a motorcycle drove by and grabbed Ellen's boob. Before we could grab him, he'd motored away. Anna comforted Ellen by telling the tale of the drive-by-boobing she experienced in Fort Cochin. In Alleppey, we also spent 2 days with a group on "Secret Beach" which is about 9 miles north of Alleppey. It was recommended to us by our hotel staff, and it was a truly picturesque beach with white sand and palm trees.

While we could have spent two weeks on Secret Beach, we decided to head to Calicut to visit our friends from Auroville Trisha and Prateek. Calicut is supposed to be the first place where Vasco De Gama landed and is now a dirty, modern city. Trisha and Prateek are both students at the National Institute of Technology, located 16 miles from Calicut. Trisha was able to get an extension to the 7pm (!) curfew imposed by her dormitory, and we had a wonderful dinner at a rooftop restaurant watching a storm off the coast of the Arabian Sea. The male students do not have a curfew.

Wanting to see wildlife, we next went to Wayanad State Park, a park in Kerala bordering Tamil Nadu and Karnataka, and one of the few places left in India to spot wild elephants. During our jeep ride, Ellen kept singing "the other day, I met a bear" song, so we didn't spot wild elephants. We did, however, see wild dogs, peacocks, a wild boar and spotted deer. Actually, she didn't sing that song. We were just unlucky.

The same day as not seeing elephants, we returned to Bengaluru to celebrate my birthday. It was great fun, a truly memorable birthday, and I'll post some pictures of the festivities as soon as one of the camerad people posts the pics. A special thanks to Louella, Varsha, Priya, Ellen, Rahul, Nishith, Pria, Suri, Harsha, Priyanka, Santosh and Supria for the wonderful birthday times. An extra special thanks to Louella for making one of the best chocolate cakes I've ever tasted.

It was difficult to leave my friends in Bangalore, but it was made easier knowing that I'd meet up with Pete in Hyderabad, a friend from Brooklyn who is here on business. Yesterday morning we did some sight-seeing, and we plan to hit the town tonight or tomorrow.

Rajasthan, Agra, Hampi, Bangalore, Kerala, Bengaluru, Hyderabad and Sparta

2008-10-23T19:30:00.000-07:00

The Internet cafe where I am is playing the movie 300, so forgive any violence (there was a lot of nape stabbing in those days) and degrading remarks about Persians that slip into this blost.

My trip has changed. Originally, I intended all of my trip to be focused on learning about sustainable design and earth architecture, but maintaining such a focus has been difficult during this past month or so of extensive travel. For people who know me, you must know how difficult and upsetting it is for me to put on hold that which interests me. Fortunately, there have been other upsetting experiences (e.g., riding a camel for two days, getting scabies [dirty itch mites], contracting contact dermatitis, etc.) and many other good experiences (e.g., seeing much of India, the birthday cake on my 29th birthday, spending my 29th birthday with some cool folks, etc.) to distract me from my original focus until I return to the States. Save the date, November 18.

Rajasthan

The much heralded Rajasthan is deservedly so. After Yoko left and I left the madness of Delhi, I headed to Jaipur, the capital of Rajasthan. My first trip to Jaipur was quick and uneventful, as I planned to return. I did, however, meet up briefly with some friends who are students in Jaipur and who I'd met in the Auroville courses, Puneet and Vrushali, and they gave me some tips on what to see in Rajasthan.

Pushkar

From Jaipur I headed to Pushkar, a small, valley town whose blue painted buildings surround a little lake. It is said that the Rajasthani desert starts here and heads West into Pakistan, and from the mountaintop Savitri Temple just West of Pushkar, you can see a clear line dividing the green from the desert. Such a peaceful and holy town was Pushkar, that Gandhi requested some of his ashes be scattered in the lake. I say "was" because its once supposed peacefulness has been replaced with aggressive touts, and the pilgrims, if there are any, are vastly outnumbered by tourists who seem more interested in bhang lassis than, well, anything else. I did, however, have a really good tomato and cheese sandwich there.

Jodhpur

From Pushkar I headed to Jodhpur and was refreshed. Jodhpur's Mehrangarh Fort is the most beautiful building I have seen in India, and perhaps anywhere. It is situated on a rock outcropping high-above the rest of Jodhpur, and when looking up those hundreds of feet that seem like thousands of feet, the Mehrangarh Fort is admirable both for its beauty and power. As one who is not usually impressed by power, I found myself feeling sorry for all the soldiers, those would-be sackers of the Fort, who braved hardships and hundreds of miles of desert only to rest their weary eyes on the impenetrable Fort. And I can imagine a deep laughter escape from the Fort itself when these usually mighty soldiers turned desperately, incredulously to their leaders. I am not the only one to be so impressed by this Fort, as the audio tour mentioned that Rudyard Kipling described it as "the works of angels and giants."

The other characteristics of this Fort, the more angelic parts, are contained in the Fort's palace. Unlike the other forts I've visited throughout India, the palace here was remarkably preserved. The British never occupied Rajasthan by force, and so many of the riches of Rajasthan remained there. The palace is so beautifully ornate in its stonework and architecture, but doesn't seem overly decadent otherwise. Perhaps this is due to the fact that it was more of a miniature city inside a fort than other palaces I've imagined. The next day, I left Jodhpur for Jaislmer.

Grant, a friend to be described, atop the Fort

Camel Ride in Jaislmer

Melissa, Grant and I

One gets used to inconvenience in India, and on many occasions, I have recited my Rakim mantra, "Cool, 'cause I don't get upset." I recited it during many the many train delays, when I got scabies, when a bird shat on my head in Jaislmer, etc. However, it was completely ineffective during the two-day camel ride.

I do not like camels or the rides they offer. They sound like Chewbacca and have a stupid smile on their face all the time, like they know how much they are hurting you. The camel I had was especially bad. In Jodhpur, I met an American couple, Melissa and Grant, who study together in Singapore. When learned that we were traveling on the same train to Jaislmer and that we all wanted to take a camel ride. On the second day of the camel trip, my camel who was tied behind Melissa's camel, had an itchy nose and decided to rub it against the butt of Melissa's camel. Her camel freaked out and she was thrown 8'+ to the ground. Then, her camel stepped on her arm.

Fortunately, she escaped only with bruises and a shared hatred of my camel.

Camel's aside, the trip was really beautiful and worthwhile. We three and three Europeans stayed out under the stars on the desert dunes to the West of Jaislmer. The huge, white dunes are broken up by the otherwise rocky, green landscape of the desert. This trip would have been perfect on foot or by jeep.

I spent a full day in Jaislmer, exploring its Old City. Unlike the madness of Delhi's Old City, Jaislmer's is uncongested, clean and full of friendly people. My friend Puneet, who lived near Jaislmer for three years, said that the best time to go to there is during the festivals in December. He said that homeowners in the Old City welcome you to sleep on their terraces or on their "porches" for free. Tres cool.

An unfortunate spelling mistake in Jaislmer

Back to Jaipur

After a week and a half or so of traveling throughout Rajasthan, I returned to Jaipur to see its historic sites. Puneet and Vrushali spent their Sunday, the one day that Indians do not have to work or study, showing me around the old forts of Jaipur. Most impressive about these forts are the walls that connect them and cover the hill tops for miles around. My first trip to Jaipur was a bit disappointing because it seemed like a confused, congested and modern Indian city, but the forts located just outside made Jaipur my second favorite Rajasthani city. Of course, I only really saw four and missed Udaipur, the city many claim to be their favorite.

Block Makin' and Travels with the Yoko

2008-09-16T02:25:00.000-07:00

Sunrise on the Mighty Ganges

Page 1

Page 2

Page 3

Page 4

Page 5

Page 6

Page 7

Page 8

Page 9

Here are some photos, taken mostly by the lovely Yoko:

Varanasi...forgot to mention that we took cooking lessons at a local restaurant (last pic)

With the children in Kushinagar

Kalimpong

Yoko standing at the edge of a cloud

Sunset in Kalimpong

Oh, Delhi

2008-09-14T00:57:00.000-07:00

Initially, I intended my next blost to be about the five weeks of happenings since my last update, but recent events (i.e., the bombings in Delhi) have changed the course. Shit, man. Last night the five bombs killed over twenty and wounded over one hundred. Just wanted to let everyone know I'm okay.

I was in a bar watching Manchester United v. Liverpool when the news came that one of the blasts was just a block away and two others were three blocks away. No one seemed to panic, but slowly the bar emptied. I found one of the few available autorickshaws and took it directly back to my hotel, which is, fortunately, away from the center of town.

I'm leaving here tomorrow. Best to all who are affected by this.

Here are a few pictures taken by Yoko Kubota during our two weeks of travel:

Morning on the Ganges in Benaras

Sunset in Kalimpong

I'm nervous and excited about my next blost.

Mumbai through Mysore

2008-08-09T00:04:00.000-07:00

Untitled #2
If I were asked a weeks ago
What I'd do with a wish bestowed,
My wish would have been properly placed
To benefit the whole human race.
End global hunger or something as pure,
Would have been my wish, I am sure.

And then I encountered devilish thugs:
My room was infested with impish bed bugs.
While in Mumbai, sick in my bed,
These little invaders bit my head,
Bit my arms, bit my legs, and even my back.
If it was a part of me, be sure they bit that!
I stood up a ragin', not quite the same,
Like Anakin Skywalker, I was going insane.

If you asked what my wish would now be,
It seems so incredibly clear to me.
I'd wish for a beg bug with a large head and a face,
So I could kick in his teeth and spray him with mace.
I'd punch him and thrash him, bash him a while.
Ooh, I'd brake every limb Steven Seagal-style.
And when I thought that the beating was ample,
Crawling back home, he'd be my example.

Time has passed since I wrote the cruelty above,
And with it perspective: I owe the bed bugs.
They showed an irony I missed at first:
Not since love first bit have I writ in verse.

I apologize for the delay in update, but a couple things made it difficult for me to write. First, I had to clean all my stuff three times to make sure I had no bed bug. A solid two days work if you are blessed, as I am, with OCD. Second, I'm pretty sure one of the more tech-savvy bed bugs crawled into my laptop and reprogrammed it. It won't boot up without freezing and rebooting. So, the time in the evening that I would spend writing is now spent watching my laptop freeze and reboot. If only there were some IT people in India.

The monsoons in Mumbai were B-A-N-A-N-A-S. The rains were really beautiful, and the best part of Mumbai was walking up and down Marine Drive during the evening and a brief repose from the day's hard rain. Neelackshi and her family were kind enough to take me in for my last night in Mumbai. I was still feverish from a bout of food poisoning and crazy itchy.

Happy to leave Mumbai, I headed by overnight train by Goa. My wallet dropped out of my pocket and onto the aisle of the train. A nice man opened my curtain, which almost got him a reflex punch in the mouth, and handed me back my wallet. This act of kindness made me realize that I should stop picking pockets and blaming street children when the owners felt their wallets being taken. I will miss the chase scenes it caused.

Palolem, Goa is a beautiful place. Lonely Planet is down on it because it is too crowded, but I went during low-season and pretty much had the beach to myself. The restaurant where I ate most of my meals was right on the beach, and its floor was made of sand, its walls and roof of bamboo. It was very nice to walk up and down the beach and watch the fishermen bring in their nets and the Japanese tourists eat the catch right out of the nets. No joke. I was only there for three days, and when it was time for me to go to Bangalore, I seriously considered postponing my trip. I've never called a place magical (I don't talk like that), but I'm tempted now.

While in Bangalore, my plan was to volunteer with an ecologically-sensitive architect, Chitra Vishwanath, who uses earth construction in her design. It is difficult, however, to volunteer at an architects office if you have not studied architecture. Duh. I realized this before going to the office, but as her office was teeming with architecture trainees, I felt my presence would have exceeded my notion of the acceptable level of dead weight. She and one of her employees, Sheel, were, however, incredibly nice to invite me to her office and show me some of the work she has done over the last 18 years. Tons of respect to both of them. Besides being a young architect, Sheel is also a trained potter without a potter wheel. So, if anyone has an extra pottery wheel, let me know.

After the hubbub of Bangalore, I decided to go to a place people say Bangalore used to resemble, Mysore. About three hours drive from Bangalore, Mysore is also a large city but hasn't been struck by to the mad development that is omniprescent in Bangalore. Historically, I believe that Mysore is more important than Bangalore, as it was the seat of one of the great Indian kindoms which included Bangalore. I know this because I took a 12 hour(!) tour of Mysore yesterady. I learned other things on the tour, as well.

As the primary goal of this trip is to get experience with sustainable design, I decided the place where I could get the best experience was actually in Auroville. Satprem Maini and his design team planned an affordable housing complex in Auroville, Project Realization, and they are currently in the early stages of construction. So, tonight I am traveling back to Pondicherry and will spend the next few weeks making earth blocks. Don't be jealous.

Sorry for the lack of pictures. Next time.

Farewell Pune

2008-07-27T03:52:00.000-07:00

First and foremost, thank you to Sauravh, Ankur, Pushkar, Pooja, Raj Laxmi, Suchi, Meganha, Debbie, Sameer and all the other Pune folks for being such good friends and showing me an incredible time! Also, a special thank you to Sauravh, Ankur, and Pooja’s mothers for the excellent home-cooked meals. Thank you Suchi for the amazing Gujarati food you made for us. Thank you Pushkar for the 400+ kilometers you racked up on your bike showing me Pune. I hope all your parents forgive me for all the meals you missed on account of me being there.

Second, I am writing the editors of Lonely Planet and suggesting that they change their name to “Lonely Planet: an Utter Guide for Travelers Who Want to Look Utterly Stupid.” They misinformed me, and I, in turn, misinformed you. Pune is not pronounced Poona. That is how the imperialist dogs of England pronounced it. Lonely Planet, I truly hope that your little pronunciation error was an innocent mistake and not some lamentation of better times. Quit India, Lonely Planet. Pune is pronounced Pooney.

It was my sincerest intention to detail in this blost (blog+post=blost, please pronounce the “o” like you would in post, host and most and not like the “o” in lost and cost. Blost. Say it a few times. I could add a “w”, making it “blowst”, but that would seem dishonest…and stupid. I could also an “a”, making it “bloast”, but the pronunciation here would only be obvious if you preceded bloast with toast, coast or boast, and even then it’s not immediately obvious. Who writes a blost about toast? Making words, baby!) the food I’ve been eating, and each time I sat down to a meal, I had my camera ready. However, almost each time the food arrived, I would forget about my camera, about my blost, and begin eating vigorously the wonderful meals. About halfway through these meals, I would remember that I forgot and curse myself. Fortunately, the curses would not last long, as I would think, “Well, I’ll just have to get this again.” Then, I would happily resume eating. The food here has brought many smiles to my face. Keith, you must visit Pune if only to have one of its dark chocolate milk shakes. More on food later.

We made a couple of really great road trips during my second week in Pune. The first road trip included everyone was to Tamhini, a place about 65km outside of Pune. On the way to Tamhini, I was stunned by the countryside, as I have never seen countryside like that countryside surrounding Pune. In every direction, the huge hills/small mountains severely jut out of the wide river plains, and the segmented rock foundation causes these wonderful horizontal lines across the mountains’ green faces, which from above would resemble contour lines.

A view in Tamhini

At Tamhini, we hiked about 1.5kms up a spring-fed creek to an 80ft waterfall. You could barely stand underneath the waterfall out of pain and fear that it would knock you out. My shoulders, head and back were seriously exfoliated. In fact, I think it damaged some of my hair follicles, as I seem a little balder.

The second road trip was with Pushkar to Sinhagad to visit the Lion Fort. Built on the highest point around Pune, the Lion Fort has amazing views in all directions and is about 25kms from Pune, so you barely see any trace of modernity. That is except for the two humungous communication towers they decided to put bang in the center of the Lion Fort. I am confused why this was permitted, but it did not really spoil the views, as the views were most impressive outward. Anyway, the fort had no castle-like structure in the middle, and I’m not sure whether there ever was one. Even without the castle, the fort was very impressive and seemed impenetrable, as there are cliffs on most sides, and the few places with entrances were well fortified. Pushkar informed me that the Lion Fort was once breached in 1670 when Shivaji defeated Bijapur, and I mention it now only because of the way Shivaji succeeded. Apparently, there are these huge lizards that live around Pune (think of a Kimono Dragon).

Like this, a Kimono Dragon

They are very good climbers and have incredible grips when they don’t want to move. Because the cliffs are too high to throw hooks over, Shivaji tied ropes around these lizards’ bodies and sent them up a cliff of the Fort. When they got to the top of the cliff and over the wall, he and his troops pulled on the ropes and the lizards clenched the ground. Thus, they climbed the ropes, penetrated the Fort and won the day. Shivaji is still a great hero in Maharashtra.

Work on the playground was delayed because of the monsoons. Much of the construction in Pune comes to a halt during the monsoons, and so the soil and other materials we needed to complete the playground were hard to get. It became obvious to me that I would be in Pune for at least another three weeks to complete the playground. Thus, I decided to leave Pune and continue my travels. Sauravh, Pooja and I had a good time designing it, and I’m excited to see the completed project.

With two great send-off meals, a hat and pair of slippers traditional in Maharashtra, I bid farewell to my friends in Pune and traveled northeast in Maharashtra to Aurangabad. Aurangabad is not much to speak of, but it is about 20kms to the Ellora Caves, one of ten World Heritage Sites in India. The Ellora Caves are a series of 34 caves built between the 6^th and 11^th Century. These caves are significant because each of the three major religions in India, Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism, have caves here. The largest cave, Cave 16, is a Hindu cave, and is not really a cave but rather a large stone carving. Cave 16 is the largest monolithic structure in the world. At the base of the structure are these huge carved elephants that hold up the structure. Leah would love it.

I found the caves very peaceful, especially the caves away from Cave 16, as I was the only one visiting them. The caves also gave me good solar design ideas, as the stonecutters were masters at carving the stones so the large statues received sunlight for much of the day.

I took the back way on the 1km hike to the Jain caves. I was alone, and the path was infested with monkeys. The last monkey I passed tried to grab my ankle, and I bravely screamed.

Punk Monkey

After the public bus ride to and from Ellora (it cost me 36 rupees instead of 500 rupees by taxi), I know that the bus drivers get paid per person they terrify. A couple of old tenants were challenged on the bus ride:

-Buses are made to be on four wheels. WRONG. Two wheels are acceptable around even the slightest of turns and encouraged on turns with one or more adjacent cliff(s).

-Senior citizens should remain seated at all times. WRONG. Senior citizens should be thrown from their seats if they are not strong enough or alert enough to hold on to the nearest bar or head of hair.

The following morning I caught the 6.5 hour, 6am bus to Mumbai. As it is monsoon season, the rains are heavy now. I am impressed with Mumbai, but will describe it another time. I had a wonderful evening last night with Neelackshi, Shorub and their daughter Mahika. Neelackshi is a school friend of Mo. We may all do Karaoke tonight. After being in Mumbai for 3 days, I travel to Goa, and then to Bangalore.

But, alas, the rains have stopped, and my blosting and wordsmithing must come to an end for today.

P.S. I did a quick Google for “blost,” and the Urban Dictionary defines “blost” as the state of being lost after smoking a blunt (Steve chuckles). So, my blost will have to be a new entry in the Urban Dictionary with a new pronunciation guide.

P.P.S. These photos are not mine, as I've lost my battery charger, but the next will have my pics.

Pune is pronounced Poona

2008-07-15T12:29:00.000-07:00

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;

Where knowledge is free;

Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;

Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;

Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake. -Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore was the first Asian winner of the Noble Prize for Literature, was a leader during India’s struggle for independence and became known to me at the Gandhi Memorial Museum in Madurai. My Indian and perhaps some of my other friends are no doubt thinking, “Wow, Aaron is so naturally intelligent, so curious and educated, so dangerously handsome that I am shocked he has never heard of Rabindranath Tagore!” Yes, my abovementioned friends, you are so shocked that you are thinking with exclamation points.

Well, it occurs to me that Asia and Asians are not really, how you say, prominently featured in the education most Americans receive. Don’t get me wrong, we learned the important things about Asia, such as how the Huns brutally invaded the Europeans and brought with them the concept of war. We also learned that the Chinese invented gunpowder to make fireworks to go along with their multi-person dancing dragon costumes with heads that shakes, much to my enjoyment, all crazy like. I laugh thinking about it now. When not busy ruling the army or whatever, General Tso liked his chicken bread and then fried in a sweet, savory sauce. Indians have a style of sitting that is cross-legged (but this might refer to Native Americans).

I can honestly say that I do not remember learning much if anything about India in my first 12 years of education (I exclude kindergarten because I was busy with, well, other things), and since most American I’ve met have nary said much more about Asia than the bit above about the dancing dragon, I can assume most Americans are in the same boat. If the Asians or Asian-descendents reading what I write here feel hurt or upset, be thankful you are not African because we did not learn a damn thing about Africa. And the people wonder why Americans generally are uninterested in world events. Perhaps this makes divisive messages (e.g., bring it on, they hate our freedom, etc.) stick better.

I realize I’ve distracted from the quote above, which is definitely worth spending some time with.

The Gandhi Memorial Museum was more than I expected. Set in a large and somewhat run-down colonial building, there were two main exhibits, one about India’s independence and the other about Gandhi specifically. The exhibit about India’s independence contained 30 4’x 5’ panels with pictures, drawings and hand-written narrations beginning in 1757 with the introduction of British East India Company to India and ending on August 15, 1947. There were many great people involved in this struggle. I spent much time reading each panel, and by the time I was done, I was very moved by the exhibit. Looking back, I should have taken a break before jumping into the Gandhi exhibit, as I was not nearly as careful or thorough with the Gandhi exhibit as I should have been, yet it affected me.

Generations to come will scarce believe that such a one as [Gandhi] ever in flesh and blood walked upon this earth. -Albert Einstein

By the end of the Gandhi exhibit, I wanted to hug every picture I saw of Gandhi.

His letters and images from his many non-violent acts decorated the six or so hallways and rooms of the museum dedicated to Gandhi. One room was painted black and had only one glass display case at its far side. Inside the display case was the loin cloth that Gandhi wore when he was shot and killed. On it was his faded blood. As the Lonely Planet said, this museum does not pull its punches. In reading about his acts and his letters, you realize this was a very special man.

Of course my urge to hug Gandhi pictures was complicated by the fact that his image is on all the currency here in India, “Look at that greedy American. He loves money so much that he goes around hugging it.” Actually, I’ve been told he is on the money to remind the spender of the money of Gandhi’s teachings. Many of you already know this, but I’ll write it for the other, more stupid people reading this, the wheel at the center of the Indian flag represents the charkha (the wheel used for home spinning cotton) that Ghandi promoted to help empower, economically and otherwise, the poor people of India.

My last full day in Madurai was spent buying Khadi fabric (homespun fabric), and I had some shirts and a pair of shorts made from it.

To Pune

On Wednesday morning, I boarded the Mumbai Express train in Madurai, leaving behind me Prasad and his family’s kindness, and thirty-one hours later I arrived in Pune. I don’t want to talk about what happened on the train…just kidding. Most of what happened on the train was me sleeping. The rocking of the train helped me sleep 16 of the 31 hours. In fact, I would sleep even when I didn’t want to sleep: upon waking, I would pump my fist skyward and say, “Damn the magic sleepy spells of this train!”

I rode in the Tier II AC sleeper car, which means I got my own little compartment and bed. There are at least two downsides to riding in the AC cars. One, it costs 4 times more money than the non-AC sleepers ($40 versus $10). Two, you are isolated from the outside because the windows are not very clear compared to the lack of glassless windows in the regular sleepers. As a result, I spent at least 3 hours standing between the train cars looking out of the doors of the train at the beautiful amarillo Indian countryside.

The coffee guys got to know me and would pop their heads in my compartment each time they passed, “Coffee?” and I would buy their delicious coffee that cost me 5 rupees.

Pune

Pooja picked me up from the train station, and we took an auto-rickshaw to Souravh’s house, where I have stayed for the last 5 days. Souravh and his family have been most hospitable to me, and I have been eating delicious home-cooked Indian food for breakfast and lunch. In the evening we usually meet up with all the folks from Auroville and a few other of their friends. A post detailing the food I am eating is on its way, but until then…Pav Bhaji.

Pune is a nice city of about 4 million people (doesn’t seem like that many) and is known for its multitude of universities and its role in the technology boom. Unlike Madurai, Pune is currently in its rainy season, and all around is green. There are many public parks but many more slums.

On Sunday morning, I woke up and accompanied Souravh’s dad on his daily 4-mile walk through a national park located on one of Pune’s many undeveloped (for the time being) hilltops. Then, I got dressed in a Kurta that I had purchased at Fabindia and went to a dolls wedding at the school where Souravh works: http://www.mkf.in/. I helped decorate for the wedding the day before and was the groom’s father. This is the school where Pooja and Souravh built an activity room for the school children, the Kaleidoscope.

The retired bus that was to be delivered is currently in bureaucratic limbo, but Pooja, Souravh and I are currently working on designing and building a playground for the school (mostly out of old tires). Jimmy Jolly, a good man from the States who recently passed away, designed and built many tire playgrounds, and he’s worth a Google or two. We plan to finish the playground in a little less than a week, at which point I will leave Pune to TBD but probably Mumbai (only three hours away).

Tonight I am going to visit the office where Ankur and Raj Laxmi. They work with one of the first architects in India to use green designs, and he started doing so 15 years ago. Afterwards, we are going to Ankur’s for some pure veg dinner.

From to Chennai to Auroville/Pondicherry and now Madurai

2008-07-06T20:34:00.000-07:00

A peacock, the state bird of India, perched on a house in Auroville

My Uncle Warren, a sage of sorts, told me to write down my first impressions of India, and then to revisit what I had written a few weeks later to see how my impressions had changed. Unfortunately, I was too over-whelmed in my first few hours of India to jot down anything. A better way to say it is maybe that I so over-whelmed myself in the first few hours in India to do anything but swat at mosquitoes and fear bottled water. I can, however, imagine some once else writing down his or her first impression of India:

“It was such a treat to step off an eight hour plane ride, onto the tarmac and into the warm air of India. The palm trees here have the ability to transform even the cold modernity of the New Delhi airport into a place of wonder. If it weren’t for that chubby white guy who keeps running and ducking every few steps while frantically swatting and muttering about mosquitoes, I would say this, my first impression, exceeds even my wildest imagination.”

I hadn’t yet bought my bug-repellent and I needed one more day of taking my malaria pills to be in compliance with the recommendation on the bottle, and thus, in my mind, malaria-proof. So the next twelve hours were spent looking for mosquito-free areas of the New Delhi airport. Just to be clear, I am sure that JFK has about as many mosquitoes in rooms with sliding doors to the outside, but I was too worried about malaria.

“New Delhi airport is a treat. There are at least four restaurants and coffee shops to service the wearied traveler. I just had a delightful cup of coffee with the perfect amount of milk and sugar. The sweets look amazing, and I can’t wait to try them. The chubby white guy seems to be in need of some refreshing after all his swatting and high-step-mosquito-evading, but he is examining the top and bottom of all the bottles of water. I wonder if he is some sort of water bottle researcher come all the way to India?”

After throwing away a bottle of water, I learned that the date printed on most products refer to when they were made and not when they expire.

I am happy to report that my time here has changed considerably since those first hours. Chennai was a blur. The New Woodlands Hotel in Chennai was a very nice place with a great restaurant attached. Traffic in Chennai is madness, but I understand not nearly as bad as the traffic in Delhi or Kolkata. My ex-coworker Melinda commented that crossing the street in Cairo was like playing Frogger, a statement that could also be said about Chennai (instead of getting points you get blacklung). My time in Chennai was a waste for the most part because methinks my will to get over the jetlag was week, so many of my waking hours were spent from 1am-7am watching TV.

On June 15, I took a four-hour bus ride from Chennai to Pondicherry, a unique city in India in that it was under French and not British rule. The Sri Aurobindo Ashram is located in Pondicherry, and Auroville (the universal city named after him) is located 15km away. During my three-week stay in Auroville, I made many visits to Pondicherry for food and to charge my Indian cell (+919952940683). I even made one visit to get food poisoning from some bad tiger prawns. My trip to the Auroville Health Center cost me 4 dollars to see the doctor and another 25 cents for the antibiotic. I felt 100% better a day later.

After a night in Pondi, I traveled to Auroville, where I stayed for three weeks at the Earth Institute (www.earth-auroville.com). The first two weeks were spent in a class called AVD or Arches, Vaults and Domes (do a Google search “Gaudi and Catenary” and you will be fascinated), and the third week, which I finished yesterday was spent in a course called CSEB or Compressed Stabilized Earth Blocks. Overall, the AVD course was a better course, but I did get to make a rammed earth foundation and wall in the CSEB course, which made it more than worthwhile. Here are some pictures of the work.

Auroville itself is an interesting, peaceful place that feels like summer camp. You rent a bicycle (bike in India means motorcycle) for about 50 cents a day to take you around the town, which has a diameter of about 5 miles at the most. The roads are all made of red dirt, and the land was actually barren forty years ago when it was founded. It is now full of trees and supports quite a lot of plant and animal life. Cows, peacocks and lizards are everywhere. There are only about five places to eat, but the food is very good. Many of the Aurovillians actually leave Auroville from March-August, to escape the oppressive heat that oppressed me. I was drinking upwards of 1.5 gallons of water a day, especially during the practical session of AVD and on days when we played volleyball.

The best part of both of these courses, however, was meeting people from around the world who are also interested in earth construction. Most of the attendees are architects or are working to become architects, and most are from India. I am currently visiting one of the people from the workshop, Prasad, in Madurai, a town known for its 120’ temples that were completed in the 16^th Century. Prasad lives at a school that was designed by the amazing and compassionate man and architect Laurie Baker (lauriebaker.net). While visiting the Meenakshi Temple this evening, I gave an elephant 5 rupees and he or she blessed me with his or her trunk.

Back Left to Right: Sourav, Prasad, Me
Front Left to Right: Pushkar, Lakshmi, Pooja, Ankur

Susan on the right was my dome partner and has a beautiful singing voice.

Tomorrow I plan to visit the Gandhi Museum (it was in Madurai that Gandhi decided to wear only homespun clothing), which documents the independence struggle. On Wednesday, I travel to Pune to visit 6 of the workshop attendees (Ankur, Lakshmi, Pooja, Pushkar, Sourav and Suchi). Some of them have been working on an activity room for an elementary school where Sourav teaches. The activity room is made using a modified version of the earth bag technique that was started by Nader Khalili. They also just received a retired city bus, which they are turning into a science/ecology center for the children, so I hope to help with this project while there.

Being scared of the mosquitoes in the New Delhi seems a long was away now...I'm now somewhat scared of the mosquitoes in Madurai.