Professor Marianne Artusio - May 28-30

On the road again! We were up early, bleary-eyed again to board the bus and find our way back to Delhi. The morning was beautiful, warm and clear, but not many of us saw the dawn sky because as soon as most of us hit the bus seat, we were fast asleep again. The countryside had the same drowsy, Indian timeless aura, with animal huts plastered with drying dung patties and water buffalo wallowing in the streams. Here’s a picture of some of them.


We arrived back at our hotel and met the rest of our group, so now there were 26 of us ready to visit Parliament. We were told to bring nothing but our passports and that security would be tight. Well, we were frisked and went through a metal detector, but no one checked our passports, so maybe Parliament knows and trusts Touro by now or security isn't as tight as advertised. The Parliament is a huge, round building (sort of shaped like a drum or a big doughnut) with a large garden in the center "hole". It was built by the British in the early 20th century and has a ponderous feel. After the bombings in Parliament a number of years ago, public visits to Parliament were curtailed, so our invitation to tour the building and meet with officials has always been a special privilege. We were ushered into a large conference room where every seat had a microphone, and we introduced ourselves to a room full of Parliamentary officials. They treated us like we were visiting dignitaries, patiently answered our questions, explained how the Parliament works and then hosted a lovely reception, with Indian delicacies, tiny delicate sandwiches and an elaborate cake. Why we deserve such gracious treatment I don’t know, but Indian hospitality is practically limitless and it was on display. So the world’s largest democracy pampered our small, not-very-important group. The Parliament chambers were huge, dignified and very old - the patina of time and weighty decisions hung about every room. The only modernity that we could see was the electronic voting system. We tried an experimental vote, but most of us had some difficulty mastering the sequence of button clicks to register our vote, so we flopped, sorry to say and the government of India did not get to learn how we voted on the important question of whether we were enjoying our trip to India. Most moving of all was the Joint chamber where both houses of Parliament meet together. It was in this chamber at midnight on August 15, 1947 that Indian independence was declared in a famous and magnificent speech by Nehru. To be in the same spot where Indian independence began and the fulfillment of Gandhi’s campaigns of non-violent protest was realized - well, it was intensely stirring.

The next morning, again, we rose with the dawn and boarded our bus. The trip to Shimla was long, uneventful and blessedly shorter than we anticipated. We drove through the agricultural fields of Harayana, past fields of all sorts of crops and huge chicken barns. Strange, for a mostly vegetarian country, this part of India produces huge numbers of chickens. Finally we got to the hills and then our journey began its winding, switchback, bumpy, jolting progress up into the Himalayan foothills. Arriving at Shimla at night is magical - the lights of the city glow in a rainbow of colors and spill down the hillside, like a cascade of gems. You just catch your breath when Shimla first comes into view. The air is cooler here, the pines are tall and straight and the mountain views stunning. So, a bit bedraggled we were met at our hotel by warm and friendly faces and a large buffet that was waiting for us. Again, the hotel entrance was fronted by a magnometer, spoiling the hotel’s traditional entry. We are so well treated by our hotel staff here in Shimla- it feels like visiting an over-indulgent friend.

Sunday was a day to rest, unpack, explore the city and prepare for classes. So explore we did and most came back with armloads of great bargains. It was the beginning of serious, heavy-duty shopping that never seems to end in Shimla. Our opening reception featured a talk by the Director General of Police for the state of Himachal Pradesh (a good person to know). What a resume! Trisha started to read it and then gave up - it was too long. He had degrees in German, business, physics, yoga and others that I can’t remember. We peppered him with questions, especially our students from India, who pressed him on many points, especially police corruption and disregard of rules, so it was a good discussion.

All of Shimla seems spruced up for our visit. The Gaity Theater has been restored and is now presenting performances and entertainment. It was a theater for musicals and other performances during the British Raj when the British decamped to Shimla to escapee the heat of the plains. But it had crumbled from neglect in recent decades and has been in some state of restoration for the last few years. Now it is glowing. There musts have been a big sale on lavender paint, because it seems that half of Shimla is newly painted with it. The police barracks is a lovely shade of pale lavender, with a bright green roof, and many homes sport this lively shade as well. The YMCA has been painted a bright, clear red, so the building on the hillside can be spotted from miles away. Houses are pale apricot, with electric pink trim or deep blue with traditional red roofs - this has become a very colorful place.

By Professor Marianne Artusio, Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India 2010

Professor Marianne Artusio - Thursday, May 27

Oh the glories of the Mughal dynasty! We entered the Taj Mahal garden, just after sunrise. It is truly magical. In any light the Taj shines, it glows, it just wraps you in its magic. The day was cloudy and the Taj seemed adrift on a silken cloud. Of course, we all “oohed and aahed” and took 1000s of pictures and marveled at all its intricacies. A man was mowing the field just below the Taj with a cart pulled by oxen and their reflection followed them in the Yammuna river, just beyond. Who expects to see such things? I wandered around the mosque that is part of the grounds (a mosque on one side, a guest house on the other) and discovered the most beautiful marble screen, tucked away on the side. Apparently it separated a small area where the women were allowed to pray. But how could they concentrate on prayer when right in front of them was a screen carved in while marble, sculpted with such delicacy that defies description. Here is a picture of a few of our group on this lovely morning at the Taj.


Then we went onto the Fatipur-sikri, Akbar’s City of Victory. It was built in the 1500s to celebrate the Mughal King, Akbar’s first son, and he moved his entire administration here - to a remote place where a holy man lived who had predicted that each of Akbar’s wives would bear a son. How could they have built a city so fanciful? A city made entirely of red sandstone, with palaces, mosques, audience halls, swimming pools, temples, terraces, performance space and huge plazas entirely of red sandstone, with intricate carvings. There was even a pavilion for the court astrologer made of red sandstone. No wood, no granite, no marble – it is other-worldly. Even the ceilings and roofs are huge blocks of red sandstone. We saw Akbar’s immense plaza, where the blocks were laid out as a Parcheesi board and the King would play Parcheesi with concubines as the pieces. He rolled the dice and they moved! Again, it was blistering hot and we sought whatever shade we could find, sitting in the meager shade of these abandoned red buildings. Next we journeyed on the Agra Fort, another jewel of Mughal architecture and full of exotic splendors. Much has been destroyed since Shah Jahan was imprisoned there by his son, but you can just imagine the magnificence: Ceilings inlaid with jewels and mirrors to catch the light, great doomed roofs covered with gold, elaborate patterns in inlaid marble everywhere, and bubbling fountains and watercourses, flowing through the gardens and the rooms to cool them. The Hall of the Public Audience was so gorgeous, and you could feel the awe that this magnificent building must have inspired. It is an open pavilion with carved and inlaid columns, and a throne seated on a balcony high above the ground, backed by 100s of niches that at one time were filled with different colored glass. Having an audience with the Emperor in that setting - most people probably could not say a word. The peacock throne once was here, and the Mughals sat on jewels and gold as they dispensed their “justice,” but it was carted away by the Persians and India has had no success in getting it back.

A good day, very hot, but a good day.

By Professor Marianne Artusio, Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India 2010

Professor Marianne Artusio - Wednesday May 26- Thursday May 27

On the road to Agra and the splendors of the Mughal dynasty. We left early, and as there were only 14 of us, we had plenty of room to lounge in the big bus. The city is so torn up, it looks like an explosion in a construction site everywhere. Delhi will be hosting the Commonwealth Games in October, and the city is in the midst of building and refurbishing everywhere. Sidewalks are torn up, leaving piles of paving stones and debris littered across the roads. There are immense, unfinished elevated highways arching over shattered streets. Construction cranes and bulldozers and gargantuan trucks tower over our bus. In the heat the dust forms a rolling haze so thick that you can practically reach out and grab it. India has 1.3 billion people and probably half of them are working on construction within Delhi: people lowering huge blocks of stone to make retaining walls, drilling with jackhammers, squatting on the pavement laying bricks by hand, carrying loads on their heads back and forth across congested streets. Delhi has a population of 13 million and they are dodging paving machines and dump trucks as the work goes on. It seems impossible that it will be finished in time, but everyone tells us it will be done. An entirely new international airport will open in a few weeks, so maybe it will be so.

The ride to Agra was peaceful, with classic Indian village scenes along the way: women in brightly-hued saris drawing water from the well, dung patties drying in the sun, small roadside dhabas with rows of empty plastic chairs, crowded under a flapping awning awaiting a customer or two. Life seems slow and unchanging in the countryside, and we saw small villages, a huge marble temple and long lines of women with big loads of long stalks of grain balanced on their heads walking along the road. Our guide, Anil, had lots to point out, so we learned a bit of Indian history along the way. We stopped at Sikandra to visit the tomb of Akbar, the third Mughal King. It is set in a beautiful garden, and as you enter through a massive red sandstone gate, you are transported to another time. The 21st century melts away, and you just feel the pomp and magnificence of the Mughal court. Of course, Akbar’s tomb is the plainest of the Mughal tombs, but it overwhelms, just the same.

After lunch in Agra, we were off to visit another Mughal tomb called the “Baby Taj,” the tomb of Emperor Jangahir’s father-in-law. The inlays in jasper, marble and other stones are like a kaleidoscope and you can get dizzy just looking at them. Here’s a picture of the entrance gate, looking back from inside the tomb:

Antelopes roam the grounds and as you take off your shoes and shuffle along the inlaid floors, geometric patterns splashed under your feet, you truly feel the heady excess of the Mughal rulers. Here are more pictures of the tomb and the inlay that covers every inch:

We are tired and hot, but ready to be entranced by the Taj Mahal tomorrow.

By Professor Marianne Artusio, Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India 2010

Sumit Raghuvanshi - Exploring Delhi and Shimla

Coming to India was not my first foray into the Subcontinent. I have visited this nation numerous times, but usually with family, and never as a student. I landed in Mumbai, to attend a family wedding. However, after the wedding I went to New Delhi, and without the comforts of having family around with me, Delhi was as new of a city to me as to the rest of the majority of the students. Although a bit scary, there were new sights, sounds, smells, and not to mention the heat. After my first night in Delhi, a group of us ventured around the city amidst the 100 plus degree heat. But we went to different sights and saw impressive monuments. Although impressive and grand, what impressed me more was exploring the city by foot.

The program may have began in Delhi, but the purpose of the program was to study in Shimla. Delhi is a huge city, hot, sticky, and polluted; however, as we ventured across the country to Shimla, 14 hours by bus might I add, we all saw a changing landscape. It was in Shimla that I saw a new part of India. Shimla, a city in the mountains with forests covering the landscape was absolutely beautiful. Across the mountain there were buildings, bazaars and temples. Prof. Artusio put it best when she said that Shimla looks as if a fairy sprinkled the mountainside with gems. Currently, I have visited only a fraction of the city, but from what I have seen so far, I can tell that Shimla is a caring, warm, loving city.

Although Shimla is a holiday city for most Indians trying to escape the heat, for us students in the India 2010 Summer Abroad Program Shimla means school. Classes are interesting. Although there are mostly American students, and each has unique perspectives, we also have some Indian students joining us. This rich diversity, for me at least, allows me to improve my perspective. As an attorney, it is our responsibility, in part, to interpret the law, and seeing different interpretations is fascinating. I just hope that they are enjoying learning from us as much as we are learning from them.

Outside of class, I am exploring the city. Yesterday, I went to the Jakhu Mandir, whose principal god is Hanuman. Hanuman’s has monkey features, and as such his Mandir (or temple) is surrounded by monkeys. The temple is situated at the very top of a mountain, and the path to get there, although paved, is steep. Safe to say, that if you reach the Summit, you also get a decent workout. Being a Hindu, going to the Mandir had another critical feature in that I am learning more about the vastness of my religion.

My trek to the Mandir was a little more difficult because I had to hide my glasses. We were told that monkeys steal people’s glasses in exchange for food. When I got to the actual Mandir I could see the surroundings. The temple is laid out at the top of mountain surrounded by forests. The entire landscape is utterly beautiful and quiet, something that is rare in the cities. There are actually two temples there: one is a small temple, but the other is at the very top, and surrounding it are corridors. I had to hide my glasses again, but from what I could see there were monkeys to my left and to my right. There were monkeys all around me, staring at me; the baby monkeys wanted to play. Safe to say, it was a little bit creepy. But to see the actual Hanuman Mandir at the top was well worth the fear of the monkeys. I won’t describe the top, but it is a must see.

By Sumit Raghuvansh, Student, Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India 2010

Professor Marianne Artusio - Monday, May 24- Tuesday May 25

Here in India at last! It is wonderful to return, I feel so welcomed by everyone here. But, the heat is beyond description. Your eyeballs burn, your tongue dries out, your breath is a furnace and your clothes drip behind you as you walk. How do people live in this heat? I guess like all people in tropical climes – by resting during the scorching part of the day. But here in Delhi I see people, looking cool and undisturbed, walking on the street in crisp clothes, while I am melting.

Nick and I took a short, meandering stroll through Chandni Chowk, the bazaar of Old Delhi. It is a maze of tiny alleys, miniscule shops, darkened hallways, hanging electric wires and exotic-looking nook and crannies, ablaze with every color of the rainbow (and some even beyond the realm of physics), sparkling fabrics, glittering with sequins and gold thread. Add to this the aroma a street food, sizzling and spattering at every corner – samosas and other treats, lined up on oiled trays, so full you can knock them over as you pass. On the sidewalk, cooks wielding long-handled ladles stir and mix all manner of mysterious delights that smell of the East – spices I can’t identify that lure me to linger over the darkened pots of bubbling oil. Chandni Chowk is a hodge podge of many bazaars and we found ourselves in the fabric bazaar – endless alleys full of tiny, tiny shops, full to overflowing with cloth of every imaginable color and type. Shops no bigger than my closet at home, lined up to the ceiling with bolts of cloth, great swaths of it hanging on the doorposts and draped across the floor, with a crisp-looking shopkeeper cross-legged on the floor folding endless lengths of cloth. And the people! Everywhere there are women in saris, men carrying large bundles on their backs, children running and darting among the shops, shopkeepers crying out to us to see their shop, men driving bicycle rickshaws, people chatting in doorways and crowding the streets. Walking through Chandni Chowk is really battering your way through a crowd. My feet were stepped on a few times and I probably returned the favor many more. But the most astounding thing to me (and I have seen this in other places in India) is the electric wires. Below is a picture, but it can not convey the tangle and chaos of the electric wires that spew from every pole, making great looping arcs and spider web snarls.

We did not buy anything – the heat and chaos drained my urge to buy and we made our way back to the hotel by the modern subway. The subway is clean, fast, well-marked and the signs are in English and Hindi, so we could get around easily, except for one thing – security. To get on the subway we had to go through an electronic screening, have our bags go through the machine and then be frisked! I would hate to have to use the subway during rush hour. Back at the hotel we found security changes as well. Every hotel now has a security checkpoint we need to walk through. My heart sank when I saw the beautiful old cream and amber colored marble floor of our lovely hotel covered by a big, ugly security scanner, big enough for the largest suitcases and packages. But our students for the Agra trip have arrived, and we all went to our favorite restaurant in Connaught Place for a fine beginning for our adventure. They were mostly tired, but anxious to take in everything, so after a delicious tali meal we finished the day.

By Professor Marianne Artusio - Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India 2010

Professor Marjorie Silver - Winding Down in India

So I’ve figured out how to maximize one’s bargaining position: open your wallet and show the shopkeeper that you only have X number of rupees left. It has worked pretty well for me a couple of times now—it also means I’ve come home sans rupees more than once!

As I said to Marianne on the way back from yet another shopping spree, I believe I’m done with my shopping—at least until I buy something else. It’s absolutely an addiction here. Only way to cure it, I fear, is to return to New York. But I am the proud owner of several exquisite pieces. Including my first Thangka!

Things are certainly winding down. Students are distracted by exams and plans for afterward. The level of commitment in class—at least in my class—has certainly fallen off considerably from where it was the first three weeks. Three students absent yesterday, with nary an explanation. Five today (one, Daniel, was actually ill). The explanation is fairly clear to me—they figure they can cut my class to study for their other exams with minimum repercussions, given my take-home exam for which they have had half the program. There is, however, the professionalism component to their grade for my course.

Despite that, there has been a sufficient critical mass to keep the discussion in class both flowing and interesting. Still, it is a disappointment.

Out and about:

On Sunday, Marianne, Doug and I hiked up to Dharamcot, via Bhagsu. We didn’t mean to take the Bhagsu road, and wished we hadn’t—the traffic was horrible, the fumes spoiling our “walk in the woods.” But it was a good workout, and the return trip from Dharamcot a lot more pastoral. Sunday evening, Ved, Catharine and I checked out a traditional Tibetan music hour, a sort of fundraiser for a benefit of vague description. One announcer, one performer, two instruments, some singing, some dancing. More quaint than compelling. At a school with another great vista, however. Oh, those snow-capped mountains!

Marianne and I walked the outer road around the Monastery Monday. It’s magical—great vistas, interesting Tibetan carvings and paintings on the rocks, a small temple here and there. And then had another terrific pizza at what Marianne calls the Dalai Lama’s pizza parlor. Who knew some of the best pizza anywhere was to be found in McLeod Ganj!?!

An elephant walked through town yesterday, accompanied by old men with beards and begging bowls. Happily, I spotted it from a distance on Temple Road and was able to capture its approach with my Flip. Click here to view the videos.

By Professor Marjorie Silver, Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India

Professor Doug Colbert – Visit with the Karmapa Lama/Class Discussions in Dharamsala

I thought you would like to see the picture we took today when we visited the Karmapa, the head lama of the Kagyud sect of Tibetan Buddhism. He only had time for a photo-op but I think you'll agree it was definitely worthwhile to see him. I had a chance to say a few words like, "Good to see you again," and he nodded and agreed. I told him, "I teach International Human Rights and these are my faculty colleagues and students." I also told him, "You are looking fine but a bit older than the last time I saw you," and the Karmapa replied, "You think so? You think I am looking okay?" I said absolutely and then the Karmapa turned to Professor Ved Nanda who had more to say. Students were slightly disappointed that they didn’t have a chance to speak to him, but seemed pleased at having met him. We then visited Norbulingka and the Transit School. What an afternoon!


I love Dharamsala. My mornings are lovely. My walk/jog around the monastery is accompanied by a variety of old and young, monks and nuns, all going to the same morning service where they will celebrate the new day by singing and then throwing powder in the air. As the only jogger, I am definitely the strange bird in the crowd, but am welcomed as much as any outsider could expect. Afterwards, I continue on my run, finding it impossible to continue up a very long, steep hill before finally catching my breath enough to resume running, while always appreciating what I have just experienced. I then return for a sumptuous breakfast at one of the most special and loveliest of hotels, the Tibetan Chonor House, where I am staying once again in the Wild Animals room. I then join my morning class which has been engaged in discussions about U.S. and India policy and human rights practices. Class conversations are lively and informative, as students exchange ideas about subjects ranging from the prohibition against torture, and the economic and social rights of children, women and working people. It is never easy for a national of any country to discover their country has violated a treaty agreement or not ratified several of the main human rights treaties. U.S. students pondered the meaning of their government being one of only two countries that failed to ratify the Covenant on the Rights of the Child, as one example; Indian students reflected on their progressive constitution and activist judicial branch, while wondering whether the problems of child labor and illiteracy are intractable or will, one day, be eliminated.

Today, though, the conversation shifted to China. I had taken students to the Tibet Museum yesterday where they absorbed the moving photographs and accounts of the Tibetan struggle for independence. They saw a powerful, 90-minute movie which detailed and revealed the brutality of China's army and repressive political system toward the Tibetan people. I expect that explains the students' reaction in class today where I used Professor Richard Klein's article on cultural relativism as a way to explain China and the "Asian way" of respecting human rights. I was met with very strong resistance and was placed in the situation of presenting China's position, at least to the best of my abilities. Tomorrow, I hope to persuade the students of the importance of learning the other side of the argument, especially where they are convinced there is only one right side. Tomorrow we have a Tibetan NGO coming to class and a representative of the Youth Congress, too. I’ll keep you informed.

By Professor Doug Colbert, Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India

Prof. Marjorie Silver – Visit with the Karmapa Lama, Norbulingka Institute, Transit School, Tibetan Children’s Village, Audience with the Dalai Lama

June 20, 2009, Dharamsala:

FALSE ALARM! THE MONSOON HAS NOT ARRIVED! Since Tuesday, when I last wrote, the weather has been unremittingly sunny, not a drop of rain. And our days have been so busy, until this most welcome Saturday.

Very good busy. Wednesday we visited the Karmapa Lama. The visit was far more pro forma than the one four years ago, when he chatted with our group for quite awhile, placed our white scarves on our shoulders himself, and gave us his blessing. This time, after a lengthy wait, we followed a long line of assorted individuals, his assistant monks did the white scarf thing, the Karmapa handed us each a red string without making eye contact, and, after another wait, took a hurried picture with the group. But then again, his importance in the world has certainly grown over the past four years. He looks older, too. Still attractive, to be sure, but at the advanced age of 23, I do believe his hairline is already receding!

Afterwards, we visited the Norbulingka Institute, toured the amazing workshops where the exquisite crafts are made, and had the chance to shop and/or refresh ourselves in their lovely garden café. Click here to see videos.

After that, we visited the Transit school, also in the outskirts of Dharamsala. Many of us were grumbling about yet another stop, but once we arrived at the unbelievably gorgeous view up the valley into the snowcapped Himalayas, all grumbling promptly stopped. The school was nice enough—got to see a group of teens rehearsing a dance to Chinese music for the Dalai Lama’s birthday next month, chatted with some lovely young people—but the view was just spectacular; itself worth the journey. In some ways the school—one only for older children— reminded me of visiting my daughter at French Woods Performing Arts camp when she was a relatively young teen—the place seemed like a teenager’s dream! Of course the French Woods campers had families to return to at the end of the camp session; these young refugees from Tibet do not. Still, if you have to leave your family and your homeland, it seemed like a pretty nifty place to end up.

Thursday we visited another haven for displaced Tibetans—the Tibetan Children’s Village (TCV). Much, much larger than the transit school, it houses about 1500 young people from about age 2 to 20. We spent most of our time in the baby house, entranced by the dozen or so delightful toddlers and pre-schoolers, who gave and received boundless affection. Even our students who remained somewhat remote at first were, after a short while, sucked into the vortex of the children’s charm. TCV is an oasis of compassion, nurturing, and education (both Tibetan and contemporary), and one can’t help but be impressed with this haven for their young people that the Tibetans in exile have created in a relatively short time. Click here to see videos from our visit with the children at TCV.

And Friday was the capstone to our extraordinary first week in Dharamsala. Our audience with His Holiness, the Dalai Lama. Our appointment, scheduled originally for noon, rescheduled to eleven, then rescheduled again to 12:30, didn’t happen until more than two hours later, but regardless of what at the time seemed like an interminable wait, it was so worth it. He spent a good deal of time with us, and seemed so interested in everything. And that laugh! A laughing, living Buddha! You would think he didn’t have a care in the world. I asked what he thought of our new president, and he had appropriately wonderful things to say about our democracy, the election, and the possibilities presented by our first African American president. He frankly admitted, however, that it was too soon to tell whether Obama’s presidency would make any positive difference for the future of Tibet. He hopes to meet with him this coming year.

We were thrilled to see how healthy he seemed, after recent reports of his illness and hospitalization. I left with a warm, peaceful glow. And then we went shopping.

Click here to see videos in and around McLeod Ganj.

By Professor Marjorie Silver, Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India

Rupavardhini B.R. - The Power of Education: The Pursuit of Happiness by Some Bright Young Girls of the Kasturba Girl’s Ashram

Freedom and liberty are lofty goals that most democracies have set for themselves. I have come to believe that education is an important tool in the realisation of these goals, especially in developing countries. Man or woman cannot be truly free and the fruits of liberty will hang tantalisingly out of reach until there is freedom from want. The gainful employment that education offers can help in the attainment of that freedom. I am a student in the final year of law school and am interested in issues relating to gender and child welfare. As part of the Touro summer program in India we visited the Kasturba Girls Ashram in Shimla. The girls in the ashram are not orphans. They are children from economically backward families who have been recommended for admission by the local Panchayats (bodies of local self governance) so that they may pursue their school education. While it is wonderful that they have the opportunity of breaking free of the vicious cycle of poverty, the fact that such young girls be deprived of the chance of growing up under the care of their families heightened the sense of tragedy that struck me in that place. It is a tragic failure of the State and the system that a child must choose between the emotional comfort and security that the institution of family can provide and the promise of material security that education makes. But these girls are fighters. They have the determination to be happy regardless of the circumstances, the will to overcome the obstacles that poverty has deeply entrenched in their path and the sociological constraints that their gender imposes. They have dreams big and small. The desire to lead their families out of the hovels of deprivation burns silently but steadfast in their hearts. The sad reality is that many of their dreams might be trampled upon. But am certain the innocence, optimism and the values of courtesy and sharing that shone brightly in the girls when they interacted with us and cheerfully sang and danced for us without a care in the world, will shield them. They all appeared happy and well cared for. The credit for this must go to the commitment and empathy of the dedicated group of people instrumental in the running of the place. As we left the place, the girls waved to us energetically. Their smiles put me to shame, for the every individual of this nation must accept the responsibility for creating a selfish society in which ashrams and not homes are the refuge of children. But I also left with a sense of optimism. These girls are the ‘new lights for old lamps,’ in them lies the hope of redemption for all of us. Someday when the little girls of the ashram grow up to be role models for all children, especially the girl child who has long been treated as a burden in this patriarchy, the winds of change that have begun to blow would have become storms that steer India into true light and freedom.

By Rupavardhini B. R., a student who is studying with the Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India. She is a law student at the National University of Juridical Sciences in Kolkata.

Professor Marjorie Silver - The Monsoon Arrives/White Water Rafting on the Sutlej River/The Trip to Dharamsala

THE MONSOON ARRIVED OVERNIGHT! And so, it is likely from here on in, the mornings will be stormy and very wet! But to paraphrase Doug Colbert (on other subjects at least), this is what was meant to be. I had my first painful attack of the intestinal thing today, so it felt quite cozy to stay in or near my room for the day. And the sky did clear in late afternoon.

I truly wanted to write sooner, to capture the wonderful experience of our rafting trip on Saturday, the 13th. Because one of the students needed frequent stops for motion sickness, we arrived at Tattipanne about an hour late, only to observe the only three rafts taking off with another group. We were told it would only be about an hour until they returned, but, in fact, it was more like two. So we made lemonade out of lemons and walked a short distance to a sort of beach. On the advice of an Indian woman on the bank, a few of us descended down close to the bridge to cross over to the beach, and what a mistake that was! We had to make our way over yards and yards and yards of large rocks, with no guarantee of sure footing. Facing my fears, I approached the task as I do 65 bluebooks: one at a time. And I made it safe and sound.

The river current was quite swift, so we had a limited area in which to “swim,” but as the water was icy cold, this wasn’t a drawback for many. I’m proud to say I made it all the way in, although gradually.

One of our students, Larry, scoped the area around a small cliff/high rock pile and found a spot where he was confident the water was deep enough for jumping off. I trusted his judgment; he clearly was experienced in such matters. Marianne, however, was having a major cow, entreating him NOT TO DO IT. Which he ignored. And he was fine. My concern was the “me-too’s” whose testosterone impelled them to follow suit. I wasn’t at all confident they knew what they were doing. But several did, and all were fine. At one point, I called to Jodie, who had Larry’s waterproof camera, to get a picture of his jump. Marianne chastised me for encouraging this wrongful behavior! I joked that Marianne clearly would never recommend me for the program director position. A little while later, however, Marianne asked Jodie to do the same! That was strange enough, but when a little while after that I heard a shout and a big splash, imagine my surprise that Marianne herself had jumped! So much for her credibility!

When we finally got off in our rafts, the skies opened up and a torrential rain descended. But it was fun! And the rapids themselves were terrific! For most of the time, I got to ride as gunner, sitting up front and center, not rowing, which was like being on the greatest water park roller coaster. It was a super day, and only helped to cement the bonds among this wonderfully cohesive group.

Sunday’s trip from Shimla to Dharamsala was very long, the bus was struggling up even modest inclines. But as I had slept quite poorly the night before, and took a Dramamine, I managed to sleep almost the entire twelve hours!

McLeod Ganj is far cleaner than I remember it, and Marianne finds it cleaner than even last year. She and I are sharing the same room Lucy and I had four years ago, Mythical Creatures. I love being back here, love having a patio, love the gorgeous jewelry on the streets. I didn’t plan to, but already on our outing yesterday, purchased a gorgeous silver pendent with Shiva’s third eye. Today my stomach problems kept me from spending more money!

Classes continue to go very well. Most of the students are so well informed, so well prepared, so engaged with the ideas. I learn so much from them. What a privilege to be here! And we just got news this afternoon that we have a Friday audience with His Holiness!

Click here to view videos of the group arriving at the departure point, "making lemonade out of lemons" at a nearby beach and having lunch at the destination point.

By Professor Marjorie Silver, Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India

Professor Marjorie Silver - Trip from Shimla and the Girls' Ashram

On Monday, the students and faculty got into cabs and drove way out into the mountains to the girls’ ashram. It was a beautiful clear day. The ashram is so far away from Shimla, maybe over an hour through winding mountain roads. There are about 40 or so girls at the ashram, of all ages, getting an education. Most of them aren’t orphans, but come from families who are too poor to send them to school, so they come here for school, and to learn a trade. Every year, the students from the India program come out for a visit, to bring gifts, to tour the school, and mostly to interact with the girls. The visit is captured best, not through words, but through the videos I took. Click here to view videos from the girls' ashram. (The first video in this series is a trip that the faculty made to Justice Rajiv Sharma's home. His wife, Trisha Sharma, is the program coordinator in India.) (Editor's Note: Marjorie didn't want the first video posted because some of the shots of the faculty were less than flattering, but we couldn't separate the videos, so you get to see them as they were.)

I drove out with Trisha, our program coordinator, and she was in a playful, fun mood. We were stuck in traffic for long periods of time, but with Nick, our administrator, in the car with her as well, the conversation flowed, and the time passed with little stress.

Tuesday, Jon Van Dyke, who is teaching International Environmental Law, and his wife, Sherry and I, plus two students, took the toy train down to a stop called Kethleeghat. It’s certainly a small train, but by no measure the toy I had always envisioned. (See the linked video of the trip below.) As no first class tickets were available, we were forced into “general seating,” which segregated women and children from the men’s car. (Although apparently women and children were allowed in the men’s car. It was certainly more crowded.) We, too, were rather crowded, but it was an interesting experience---too long by half, however. I was rather surprised that almost none of the women---clearly from different regions---felt in any way obliged to make room for us, nor for that matter, for elderly Indian women who later boarded the train.I used my NYC subway skills to ask the four women sitting in the back banquet that was designated to hold five persons to please move one way or the other to allow me to sit. They did so quite begrudgingly! We became friendlier as I cooed over their babies, especially a one-year-old girl to my left. I pressed pictures of my grandson and daughter on her mother, whom I thought might have shown some interest, but apparently according to Fareeha, who translated some of what was said, she found it rather amusing, if not bizarre, that I would do so.

The most memorable---and anxiety-producing---part of the trip was when we stopped at Tara Devi. (Tara Devi is a beautiful 250-year-old temple between Shimla and Shogi.) The mother and child exited the train, but along with a man who apparently was the baby’s father, remained outside the window chatting with some of the others still inside the train, apparently friends or relatives. All of a sudden, I realized that the father had passed the baby through the open window to the woman inside! I began immediately to get nervous that the train would take off, with the baby separated from her parents. At a certain point, the woman held the baby balanced on the window ledge. And then the train’s horn tooted, and the train began to move! The parents did not instantly grab the baby, rather seeming to play a game of dare, running alongside what was then a rather slow-moving train. Perhaps they knew they could keep apace; perhaps they didn’t. All I know is that when the father finally reached up and grabbed the baby, I could let my heart return to its rightful place in my chest cavity!

The trip took about two hours, at least one more than we needed to get the full experience. Happily our taxi driver was waiting for us when we arrived at Kethleeghat. We stopped at a lovely Hanuman temple complex at Tara Devi, across the valley from Shimla.

The program had a party to say goodbye to some of our participants. I'm attaching a video of some of the fesitivities in the Oberoi Clarkes dining room: click here to view the video.

Tonight, Friday night, the Sharma family joined us as guests for dinner at the Clarke’s Hotel. We all dressed up in the clothes we bought here. We leave for Dharmasala in a day.

Click here to view the videos of the "toy train" from Shimla and the general seating in the women's car of the train.

By Professor Marjorie Silver, Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India

Professor Doug Colbert - Report from Shimla

It is 4:30 p.m. on a Saturday afternoon in Shimla. Until yesterday, the weather here was totally perfect. Blue skies, lovely sun, temperatures ranging from 80 degrees during the day to high-60s at night. Absolutely lovely. Yesterday, we had our first hard rain. In typical Shimla style, it ended as abruptly as it had begun, and the sun returned, allowing people to come pouring into the streets. Then this morning, I awoke early and witnessed a tremendous burst of rain, hail, lightening and wind. After about 45 minutes, it stopped, and I took my morning run. I still cannot jog all the way up the first hill going away from town, but I’m progressing nicely once I get to the top and run past the Governor’s house and into the woods.

View from the Oberoi Clarke's Hotel

The Oberoi Clarke's Hotel

Students and faculty just returned from a lovely trip to Kufri where we traveled to the lovely and refreshing mountains and witnessed an unusually interesting zoo. We saw snow leopards, black and brown bears, multi-colored pheasants and other birds, wolves, a small type of deer, yaks and other animals. It is Saturday afternoon now in Shimla, and all of us are enjoying our "day off" from school. Ten students left yesterday to take a whirlwind tour in which they will be traveling ten hours each way to one of India’s highest mountains and will return Sunday night. I decided to stay here and get to know Shimla again. I find much to enjoy here, although I cannot wait to arrive in Dharamsala. I walked up to the Jaku Temple yesterday four minutes slower than I remember walking two years ago, but still within the 30 minutes or less "expert" time for people who are supposed fit. I stopped many times to catch my breath along the way. The Jaku priest welcomed me with a big smile and remembered my earlier visits. Same was true when I went to the Rouen camera store and Cyberia internet and, of course, the stores near Clarkes. The music festival arrived this week. I went there with Marianne Artusio, Marjorie Silver and Sherry van Dyke, Professor Jon's wife and activist attorney.

Shimla Mall

A Tibetan porter

Faculty and students are doing extremely well together. Classes have been very good. Virtually every student seems to arrive prepared and having read most of the material. I have worked hard myself this week reading lots of new material since I last taught International Human Rights (you must read the Torture Memos - - how disturbing), becoming acquainted again with India’s progressive Constitution and judicial decision-making, and spending lots of prep time. I sense students are appreciating faculty's commitment, presence and engagement in the course materials. As I write this, the hard rains have once again ended suddenly and I see a beautiful sun reappearing. Looks like we are going to have a beautiful Saturday night with lots of good food and music.

By Professor Doug Colbert, Touro Law Summer Abroad Program in India 2009
Photos by Cat Allard

Sights & Sounds of a Tibetan Festival

Students and faculty from Touro Law Center's India Summer Abroad Program attended a festival at the Tibetan Buddhist monastery in Shimla on Tuesday, June 2. Click here to view the remarkable videos taken by Professor Marjorie Silver.