Although each of us on the journey to Gujarat had their own unique reasons for participation, the core of mine lied in my quest to learn whether I had the capability to take on the role of an academic researcher, working on the field. It was a role I had never participated in and one I wanted to make sure I had the capacity to do before pursuing it in the future. To be honest, what better exposure than 15 hour days hopping from interview to interview. None of it even registered until I arrived back in the states, but it was so integral to my academic career without me even realizing it. Every day, whether in the formal or informal setting, we met numerous people in different key roles working on multiple levels on multiple issues. Each day involved learning a key and unique aspect of conducting interviews, conducting research, participating in a group setting and laying the foundation to your individual research

The fruits of the skills I learned, some through mitosis it feels, weren’t realized by me personally until I was in New York City observing a UN Conference on Arms Trade Treaty Negotiations. I managed to utilize the skills I had learned in India to participate in interviews and discussions with a lot of different key stakeholders involved in the negotiations and the treaty. Without even realizing it, I was observing more than what was being said, but how it was being said and by whom. All of this ultimately culminated into an internship opportunity, which to be honest I doubt would have happened had it not been for the imperative skills I learned in India. The few short weeks spent there have turned out to have a huge positive impact on so many different parts of my academic, professional and personal life. So as we discuss the various definitions of development, I can’t help but think of the role India played on my personal development in such a short span.

In our short time in Gujarat, I managed to learn quite quickly that as intimidating as many settings may have been for me in my newfound role of “apprenticed field researcher”, I had no fears when it came to shoving my camera into the faces of anyone and everyone I met. As I reviewed the photos, I couldn’t help but feel at peace when going over the photos of young children – especially the young girls. Whether children of tribal families attending school in a Jesuit mission in the rural areas or young children of prominent members of Ahmedabad’s high political society, the young girls had something special in their faces. In their light, their eyes always seemed to smile. It was truly remarkable to photograph. The feeling of tranquility from looking over the pictures of these young girls never ceases to overcome me and I hope to always hold onto it.

It took simply a week on the East Coast in the brutal, blistering cold of New York’s never-ending winter to realize that I had taken the January weather of West India for granted. It was in those warm, sunny days that we were fortunate enough to receive a cultural and historical tour of Gujarat. Religious tales and the stories behind the religious sites have always fascinated me, ever since I was a kid and my grandmother would tell me tales of Islamic Imams and prophets. Yet, as fascinating and intricate as the stories in West India happened to be, the powerful beauty of the religious sites we visited could not be captured through my photographic lens.

With our cultural guides, we visited Jain and Hindu temples and Muslim mosques. Each column, each row, everything in every individual place we visited had its own unique story to tell. For me, it was astounding to think of all the work having gone into each square inch of the multiple ancient structures we saw. Many of these structures have remained in great conditions, considering their religious significance and the heated atmosphere these structures sometimes stir between communal groups. A temple in ruins for me was such a travesty, for if we take a second to think of the work gone into these temples and structures all before many of the contemporary tools available today. It highlights the incredibly powerful motivation behind those working to build these temples. For some, it may seem silly. To work so arduously on a structure to honor a presence one cannot see or touch. But for those with religious convictions, these structures represent more than just a home to honor the Gods. It feels like a visual representation of a faith worth their sweat, tears and blood.

About a month ago, I had the fortune of having dinner with a friend of mine from home back in Washington, DC. A fellow student of International Policy, for three years she travelled through North Africa, Middle East, South East Asia and two months in Northern India. So when she asked me about our trip, I realized I had yet to sit down and reflect on what I had experienced for two weeks in Gujarat.

The trip for me was one of many firsts. It was my first time traveling for academic research; my first time to India; my first time travelling with more than two people and the first time I would be fully awake to a state struggling to stay afloat in a sea of relative deprivation.

As I spoke with my friend about what I had seen, what I experienced, and how I had felt, I began to realize that the complexity of the journey had laid in a multitude of layers both directly and indirectly. All of this complexity took place in just two short weeks and to this day, it still feels like a sudden flash of light as so much of what poured out came from the reality of what I saw everyday. The reality of what the many complex social groups and individuals of India must face on a day-to-day basis has truly created this aura of resilience. In the reality of life in Gujarat after the genocide of 2002, individuals are doing much more than just surviving, they are utilizing what they have to go above and beyond. To me survival is a choice; you choose to continue moving forward in spite of whatever adversity you may have faced. Yet, the people we met while in Gujarat were doing more than just surviving; they are utilizing their pain and trauma to bounce back, advocate and be a voice for those without one.

In this resilience, I reflected on the twinkle of moments each day that shined brightly and gave us hope. Whether it was the Muslim woman who survived the 2002 violence, living in an IDP colony, and telling us the story of the Hindu family whom hid her and helped her escape. The social activist and international celebrity who passionately speaks of the moral obligation we have to share a voice for those who can’t. There were also the many moments of joy within our group that our brought us together; surviving a case of stomach ailments, long days of interviews and research, copious different styles of cuisine, etc. Those moments helped all of us get through the days we didn’t think we could.

My point with this story is this: In the land of contrast, India showed us the struggles, pains, obstacles, and darkness that many face everyday while simultaneously shining a light on the moments in humanity where you move forward towards peace and equality for yourself and for others. The shining moments may be few and far between sometimes, but what is important is the celebration of those victories to help you get passed the darkness. India taught me the importance of one day at a time, and the importance of a balance between the realism of the contemporary world and the beauty of humanity.

During our brief time in Gujarat, I tried to focus on the evolution of the women’s rights movement in Gandhi’s land after the carnage of 2002. In a society that continues to idealize patriarchal ideals and principles, how are the female leaders, advocates, and activists creating the necessary change to create true gender equality?

Throughout the violence of 2002, women were targeted, above all, symbolically. The rape and mutilation of Muslim women, the burning of the bodies in order to destroy the evidence; all symbolized an attack on the home and honor of the community. Globally, it has been seen time and time again how much destruction of the women is used to be the greatest dishonor of all – the strongest and most lasting way to attack of culture. For me, such a sentiment alone is a style of violence against itself. Yes, society would cease to exist without our mothers, our sisters, and our daughters both biologically and structurally speaking. Yet, to bare the symbolic burden of society to me seems criminal.

Time and time again as I asked of the status of women in today’s Gujarat, I was greeted with the same sentiment. That the women of India are courageous and strong women. Personally, I was not only blessed to hear this but to witness it with my own eyes. Whether the numerous women I met with activists, high-ranking bureaucrats or local tribal women, each and everyone fit the vision of a woman rising up with courage. What remains to be accepted or understood, personally, is a clear and transparent definition of what it means to be empowered in Gujarat. As I research the many roles played by women in Gujarat today, I hope to find a fitting definition to empowerment soon.

In the last ten days, we have seen and heard a multitude of perspectives. As we have walked through the bustling streets of “vibrant” Gujarat, everything comes back to development. Yes, maybe Gujarat has an upward trend of growth in GDP, but at what cost?

Coming from the West, we tend to believe that the only solution, or the best solution, is development. That the only prescription for an ailing world is economic development and if you develop then improvement – meaning human development – will come naturally. Yet it seems to have been quite the contrary from what we have heard and seen. Although the trend is towards industrialization, there really hasn’t been true development in Gujarat. Rurally speaking, infrastructure has not improved. There is no water facilities, continual electricity, etc. Marginalization of different communities continues to worsen, education remains for the elite and the state of women hasn’t improved as Ahmedabad “develops”. The women have been left behind and violence against women has only increased as urbanization has increased. So where is this development that Chief Minister Modi keeps talking about?

It makes me wonder as to what the root cause of the problem may be. Is the issue that development as an agenda cannot be an one-size-fits-all? Or is development as an agenda the problem itself? I feel very conflicted. As someone who always believed economic development would lead to improvements and equality, especially for women, it has been an eye opening experience to be in Gujarat.

Before the sun had risen in Ahmedabad this morning, all eight of us waited patiently for our bus to arrive. Sleep still in our eyes, we all piled in together to head to Mother Teresa’s Home for the Dying and Destitute. A smaller Gujarat center based off the original home in Kalkutta; this home holds over 180 of the sick, old and mentally disabled men of Ahmedabad City – a whopping 35 more than it can handle capacity wise. As the sun was rising, we all stood around inside; making plates of idly sambar and coconut chutney to serve the men for breakfast.

For me, it was almost an out of body experience as my own personal fears and discomfort in old folks’ homes came to light. As I handed out plates to the men, some old and frail while others with various disabilities, I kept trying to surpress any and all good feelings I was starting to formulate. For some reason it felt so wrong to feel good about what I was doing, partly because I felt so hypocritical. Nice young girl from the states, here in India serving those in need for an hour; “someone bring me my award” I sarcastically thought to myself.

As we left the home and headed back for breakfast, we talked about how we all felt. When I expressed my unease to Dr. Iyer, she brought up the importance of taking what we saw with us everywhere we went in our future endeavors. Throughout my youth in the states, my mother would constantly tell me to be grateful. To be thankful for everything I had and to always keep in mind those who weren’t blessed like me. Every summer when we would return to Tehran to visit family, she would point out the kids close to my age living on the street and selling candy as a reminder of just how lucky and blessed I was to have all that I did. It was this exact sentiment that drove me to return to school for my masters degree in the first place.

My mother and I in India on our way to America, 1990

Some say there is no such thing as a selfless good deed. Especially for those of us out west, we get lost in the philanthropic acts of giving money instead of time. Donating a few dollars whenever you can and you feel as though you have accomplished so much. I myself am just as guilty of this as anyone else and not to take away from donating money; it is a necessity just as well. But, if we were only to donate more of our time we would be face to face with the infinite suffering of the world and hopefully more aware. I hope that, for the rest of my education and career, I always keep the images of those in need in the back of my head.

Today in Ahmedabad City was the international kite festival known as Uttarayan. It is a national holiday all over Gujarat where everyone gathers on rooftops to fly beautiful paper kites tied to a sharp thread. The thread, first white, is a process in and of itself. It’s dyed a vibrant pink on the streets of the city and processed with shards of glass. The tradition is to fly your kite as high as possible and also try to cut the others’ kites in the process. A bit terrifying, mind you as we came to find. Often this sharp thread has caused problems and injuries, but today none of that was of any concern.

We spent the late morning and early afternoon on the roof of an apartment complex as guests of the Patel family. Their son, Viverk and daughter-in-law Mansi taught us how to fly the kites; to keep them pointed upward and always to jerk and pull at just the right time. It was a beautiful sight to see and incredibly fun to be surrounded by loud music, delicious treats and smiling faces.

When we finally arrived, I asked for a bit of background on the festival itself. A tradition that has been around for over a thousand years, it is a part of Gujarati culture through and through. I asked Viverk as he was teaching me how to hold the thread properly, if it was also customary to fly the kites from the streets as well. I brought this up because, as we left our hotel in the morning to head to the Patel residence, we saw children barely old enough for school running around with kites in hand. Viverk replied, “no no, those are just the poor children. They can’t afford these kites, so they wait for the kites to fall and then they play with them or sell them”.

It has been exactly one week since we began our journey through Gandhi’s land and we have already seen quite a lot. From town to town, we visited several schools for tribal village children whose entire cost of living for one year is a mere 30 US Dollars. We’ve seen street vendors and beggars, temples and ruins. We’ve learned of the culture and history of Gujarat and of Gandhi’s legacy during his time. All in all, it has been a consistent blend of the have and have not. What Viverk and Mansi were explaining, quite frankly and very innocently, is the common day-to-day of Gujarat. Yet as I stood on the roof of their terrace and looked down and could see the lower roofs and the streets filled with children playing with broken and torn kites, I couldn’t help but think of the constant hierarchy we have encountered. How the development of the area has only magnified this marginalization and how most of all, it has become the standard norm.

Throughout the time I spent post-finals and pre-trip shuffling through my many print outs of readings and articles, I stupidly ignored the importance of pop culture. It is strongly well known just how important the arts are to the Indian heritage and culture. As I sit next to a young woman on the plane to Dubai, and look over her shoulder as she watches Bollywood films, I recognize the big gap in my preparations.

Being the social butterfly that I am, I engage her in a short conversation during lunch – long enough to manage to finagle a movie recommendation from her in between bites. I chose not to give her any explanation as to why I wanted a recommendation from her, or as to why I was heading to India in the first place. She asks, “new or old?” and I reply, “what do we have new?”. She recommends English Vinglish, which is only offered in Hindi. This immediately grabbed my attention as it reminded me of a habit my own mother had for many years when we first came to the states. She would take a word, usually one she wasn’t sure of in English, and repeat it by either adding a m to the beginning of the word. Kabob mabob. Hotel motel. Now I had to watch it. Subtitles? Check.

Through the deciphering of some choppy subtitles (and a few parts that were cut out unfortunately due to a malfunctioning screen), I understood the film to tell the story of a young Indian woman, Shashi, from a prominent Hindu family who comes to the U.S. – New York to be exact – to help her sister with her wedding and to learn English in order to better and expand her catering business. The film itself is simply a romantic comedy of sorts with no heavy undertones of any kind. It’s hearty in its exposure of prominent Indian culture; the food, the traditions and the music. What really stood out for me, however, were the similarities in culture and language to my own Iranian background. The different names for maternal and paternal aunts and uncles, the ceremonial parts of the wedding exclusive to the bride and groom, the concepts of shugan and nazar/cheshm. As I write this and put two and two together, I realize a lot of this has to do with the influence of the Parsis in India whom came from ancient Persia. Either way, it got me even more excited for our trip to India. I am really looking forward to discovering all the intricacies of the culture that not only make it unique, but also bridge a link to my own cultural background.

In less than two days, our individual journeys to Gujarat, India will begin. Personally, the thoughts and emotions seem to be vast and filled with both excitement and uncertainty. As I’ve read on the history of Western India, the people, the tribals, the religions and of course, the conflict that has been brewing in Gujarat for years, I can’t help but wonder what to expect.

In the next couple of weeks, the state of Gujarat will be in the midst of a global summit aimed at continuously increasing the socio-economic state of the region. The kite festival will take place and of course, the aftermath of chief minister Norendra Modi’s victory. Through it all, we will get to visit a plethora of places with such bountiful histories that often go unnoticed to the everyday traveler. The untold always seem to grab my attention more so than the everyday and I’m looking forward to visiting a place with so much to offer and most importantly, so much that I still no little about.

Throughout my personal preparation for the journey to Gandhi’s land, it seems as though my interest and curiosities know no bounds. For the most part, my questions stem with every new reading and news article I read. Yet, some of this I feel, may also have to do with the continual commentary of those around me. It seems, everyone has an opinion on India and no two opinions seem to be the same. Often, these opinions are expressed whether you want to hear them or not and it has made me so curious to meet the people of Gujarat and try to gain an understanding of how they perceive themselves, their surroundings and their country. As I try to narrow down my list of millions of questions, I continue to tingle with excitement for this brand new year and for the next 14 days abroad.