The happiness in independence

I scoured Facebook today to see what people were posting for our Independence Day (I am going to call it I-Day). And it should have made me smile to see the Happy I-Day wishes. Strangely enough though, it didn't.

All I kept feeling as I thought of I-Day was that we have failed those who brought us independence. And possibly pushed a lot of people much below or at least into the same deep trenches that the colonial British had them in. Of course, it didn't help that I was listening to patriotic Hindi songs on Gaana.com's loop, which kept switching between the Mr. Bharat mold and telling the world how unique India is!

But as I read the Assam Tribune every day (I often rely on my husband for any non-Assam news), neither happiness nor success screams from its pages. Instead, I see violent uprisings in my home state as people demand separate states, or a steep hike in the price of onions that roundly beats inflation. I read hollow statements that the state and central government make about border conflicts that are claiming young Indian soldiers as they do absolutely nothing to save these lives.

And I find myself searching for the happiness in our independence.

As I step away from reading about my country, and back to my life in a well-functioning, rich land, I often feel like I have cheated my country. Be it the great super-subsidized public higher education that I received and definitely did not pay back fully or the fact that any volunteering I do, does not directly help someone back home, I find it tough to accept that I can't do more to give back.

Among the few things that I can do from here is to contribute money. And since I find it hard to ask others to donate to a cause I believe in (I would probably stink at fundraising), I was thrilled when I realized that my (awesome) employer matches donations to non-profits of the employee's choice. You can donate up to USD 1,000 and they match it fully. So, last year, I got a full match for donations to four small NGOs based in Guwahati, Assam. NGOs, which were far from the big boy scale and for whom this money made a serious difference.

I thought that some of you who struggle with how to help people back home may want to explore options like this with your own employers. Big companies are much maligned (and sometimes for good reason) but they also have the enormous power that comes with size. Be it the amazing power of employee engagement and volunteering or good ole' cash.

End of the day, if you can work with the system and still do some good, big isn't that bad at all. It definitely makes it possible for me to make things a little more right. And maybe some day, help bring that happiness back into my I-Day.

We are friendly people around here

As we left the city (more like the suburbs) behind and headed south to Lake Erie, the traffic decreased. One of the main highways that we took was the QEW (Queen Elizabeth Way). They even had a little picture of a crown above the QEW on all the signs--long live the Queen, I guess!

The landscape changed too and suburban homes and malls gave way to farmland. While it was very charming, a practical warning to city dwellers--it's really easy to get lost in farm country! The roads have names but sometimes a sign at one end of the road will say X and a sign at the other end will say Y. So, you travel about 20 minutes hoping to reach your destination and see a different name and you scratch your head wondering if you took the wrong road in the first place. Let's just say navigating farm country involves getting turned around a bit :)

Though I admit that Google Maps and MapQuest served us well. We first asked for directions when we were about thirty minutes away from Port Maitland at a food trailer. The temperatures had soared by then and we figured we deserved the ice cream shakes that they were serving. Though my stomach turned a little to see two men biting hungrily into good-sized burgers--it was just too hot for me to eat anything that heavy!
The old lady at the food trailer knew exactly where we wanted to go when we hesitantly told her the name of the place and gave us really easy directions--once you get to the river, go over the bridge and then take the left at the petrol pump. And if you get lost, just ask. We are pretty friendly people around here!

Umm, get to a river. What if there is more than one river, our city brains thought. We'll be smart, we thought. We'll combine her directions with our map. So, we got to the river and our map said, go straight. So, we did. And then had to stop to ask for directions at a wayside auto repair place. The shop was manned by two elderly men, who not only knew the area well but had also mastered Google Maps! So, they drew us a quick map and sent us off on the right path (the earlier lady had been right, of course).

We finally arrived at the Port Maitland to a fluffy welcome from Sisi and the elderly couple who owned the place. A quick luggage drop-off and rinse later, we were at the 'pebbly' Lake Erie shore. The sun shone down brightly as we ran into the water with our Go Pro camera ready to do some underwater photography. As I sat splashing water and blinking in the sun, I crossed off one item from my travel list. Lake Erie, done :)