Closer To...Good.

All’s well that ends…well, you know.

I just finished up the final class. We have a day off tomorrow, and are heading up to the foothills of the Himalayas. Can’t wait. Then, another overnight train, and two days of meetings in Delhi before I head home, at last, Monday night.

I’m looking at the little elephant (not a real one) the class gave me as a thank you gift. It’s certainly rewarding to know that the work you’ve done was appreciated and valuable. As always, the plan is not the thing whilst in India. It’s the end result. And, the end today was a very satisfying one. Throughout the seven days of training, every day was a new surprise. (Heck, sometimes break time revealed a new set of students!) There was a core group however, that stuck together and were here throughout the time. I think those here for portions of the training appreciated it; I know the core group did. And their work showed the growth in skills and knowledge. They are well on their way to a quality video that will help many more of the disabled and their families.

I’ve thought of this trip as a second pilot for the Good Media School; there were a lot of kinks still to work out, and many ideas for different approaches that I wanted to try. So, throughout the time here, I felt free to experiment; to mix things up and gauge the response. I leave with a lot of new ideas, but more importantly, I leave confident I have a good course. The curriculum is more comprehensive, yet more streamlined. THIS is a great week of learning now.

It was so cool to spend time with KT, Helen (awesomest apple pie!), George and Pramola again. I first met all of them back in 2008 on my first trip. I consider it a real gift to have friends half a world away. Not many people can say that.

Last night, several of us went for a walk through the tea gardens just outside the hospital gates. The sun was setting, the air was cool. The light was beautiful. I stopped for a moment to take a picture. I want to judge my life by three things; the relationships cultivated, the experiences I have, and the work I love. Not the stuff I accumulate, the experiences I watch, and the work I must do. This trip met all three criteria. To me, it’s good living.

It’s been real challenging, real fun, and real rewarding. 

 

Flexibility, thy name is India

“Mike, I am so sorry they are not yet here,” the manager of the training centre (pictured) said in her lovely lilting accent. She shrugged sheepishly. “In America, you have EST—Eastern Standard Time, yes?” I nodded. “Here, we have IST—Indian Stretchable time.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that joke. It will not be the last. As long as I continue to work in this intriguing country, I will always get the fringe benefit of learning patience and anger management.  

Blaming does no good, of course, so I try not to dwell on missed appointments and no-shows. It simply goes with the territory. And what Indians may lack in these areas, they more than make up for in kindness, hospitality and simple, quiet joy.

In other words, it’s a tradeoff that I willingly make.

The training is designed to cover every part of the video process, from script to screen. In order to cover so much ground, it was required that each group already have a rough draft of a script, and some basic gear. Several students did not show at all. Several others showed up with none of the required recommended requested hoped-for gear. Or a script. Some even showed up without the useful trait of knowing English.

Long Black Train

I had some real trepidations about the…shall we say, customer experience, awaiting me on the train ride. The last time Jerry and I took the train from Delhi to Dehradun, I thought maybe it was the train to Hogwarts—a vile, evil Hogwarts. It was old, rusty, and vaguely Soviet. Just a generally unpleasant beast. Thankfully I was so jetlagged I passed out on the seat and woke up as we pulled in. But it was “rustic” enough to give make me trepidations as I wrenched the green monster bag out of the cab and headed to the station.  

Walking to the platform was its usual sensory explosion—people, dogs, people, smells, smelly people, angry dogs. The platform is a trip all by itself.

Luggage, Allergies, and the Beatles

Imagine my surprise when, after 30 hours of travel, I arrive bleary-eyed and stuffy-nosed, in New Delhi, India…and see my old friend waiting for me:

Yes! The green monster himself, all the way from Cleveland by way of New York and Amsterdam.

If a piece of luggage ever seemed happy to be alive, this was the one. Why, he nearly leaped (lept?) off the carousel—probably as shocked as I was that he made it in one piece. It’s a good start to this trip, for sure. I got my gear...and my clothes! I know I complained a lot about checking the bag being a "failure" and all, so I really do need to be thankful that it got here. It really is a small miracle when you think of it: this bag somehow got halfway around the world, and in one piece. Hallelujah.

Speaking of arriving in one piece, here’s a little health tip for ya:

Failure.

The picture here represents a sad day for me. I had to check luggage. You may look at the picture and see a large duffle bag. I look at it and see shame.

Okay. Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Still, checking bags means I have crossed a line, into what I feel is inefficiency. It’s probably pretty obvious that this monstrosity needed to be put down below—there was no way I could carry it on. I’m not arguing that. My failure is feeling that I brought too much stuff in the first place. Believe it or not, I actually COULD have fit everything I was bringing to India inside a backpack and a carry on-sized suitcase. It was the weight that made me decide to check it. Inside that green monster is a smaller suitcase, because I’m determined to come back with a lot less. Most of what I’m bringing is equipment and gear for the people I’m teaching: cameras, tripod, etc. I’ll leave the green bag behind in India with the gear.

Why am I so bummed about checking a bag, you ask? Four words: