Mira Shah interviews a patient at the Jahangirpuri Outreach Clinic in Dehli photo by Siva Ambalam   Siva Ambalam, right, with Sushil Sharma, a clinical assistant who helped Ambalam and Shah with their survey and translated it into Hindi   High school boys at the C-2 Government School in Dehli complete the aids survey done by Ambalam and Shah	Passage to India Siva Ambalam (WCAS01) and Mira Shah sit in a rickshaw under the merciless early morning sun, caught in Delhi, India’s rush-hour traffic. Small cars, combine-size trucks, mopeds, bicycles, buses and other rickshaws try to maneuver on the two-lane dirt road, where traffic laws are paid no heed. The street swarms with forceful street vendors and cows, India’s sacred animal. The pervasive smell of jasmine flowers mixed with the foul odor of open sewers fills the air. Ambalam and Shah will see four or five accidents on their way to the elementary school, where they are conducting research on HIV/AIDS awareness. When they walk into the school, all of the uniformed students rise out of respect for their elders. Between the crumbling, concrete walls of the classroom, the students studied three to a two-person bench. Everywhere Ambalam and Shah turned during their trip to Delhi, they were surrounded by oppressive crowds and abject poverty. But despite these conditions, Ambalam says, Indians have an amazing will to survive and thrive. It was a Northwestern undergraduate research grant that allowed Ambalam, who studied biological sciences, and Shah, an Asian studies major, to do their research in mental health clinics and elementary schools in Delhi last summer. However, the two students didn’t just come back with data. They returned with enthralling stories, riveting images, life lessons and a renewed sense of appreciation for the lives they lead in the United States. Before they left, Ambalam and Shah were determined to survey adults and young people in India about their knowledge of an epidemic that is ravaging the world, especially developing nations. They got approval from the Indian government to ask such questions as "What is HIV/AIDS?" "How do you think HIV is spread?" "What are condoms used for?" and related queries. Ambalam and Shah arrived unaccompanied, with no professor or government official to guide them. They moved into a banquet hall that doubled as a hotel, where they were welcomed by being kept up all hours of the night by music so loud it made the walls vibrate. The heat was unbearable (well over 100 degrees every day), but the first time Ambalam turned on his air conditioner, a huge burst of flames came out. Shah woke up the first morning covered in bites from bedbugs. And both developed health problems. Actually these would be the least of their worries. Straightaway Ambalam and Shah ran into clearance problems after the government rescinded many of its earlier promises about where the students could do their surveys. After about a week of delays and compromise on both sides, Ambalam and Shah started distributing surveys in classrooms to children and to patients at mental health clinics. Many of the latter were street dwellers trying to get their lives on track after years of drug use. With the help of an interpreter, the two collected some striking data. "Some people thought you could contract AIDS from sharing a glass of water with someone who is infected, while others understood that if you practice safe sex and have a relationship where both partners are loyal, you can avoid contracting the disease," Ambalam says. Ambalam and Shah found that, contrary to what one might expect, Indian schoolchildren knew next to nothing about AIDS, while uneducated homeless people tended to be rather well informed. The researchers attribute this paradoxical situation to the impact of the country’s culture on children’s sex education. Discussing sex is basically taboo in India’s schools. "Tenth- and 12th-grade girls were asking us what sex was, while street dwellers who were totally uneducated talked to us about how AIDS spreads and how it is prevented," Shah says. Although Ambalam and Shah were in Delhi to do AIDS research, the time they spent in clinics gave the two a whole education on public health problems in India, such as drug use. They constantly listened to life stories filled with misery and hardship. "Sometimes when we left the clinic, I had forgotten all about our survey," Shah says. "All I could think of was the people we had met and interviewed and what information they had humbly shared with us." One man who answered the survey made an indelible impression on Shah. Repeatedly calling her "doctor" throughout the interview, he pleaded afterward with her to help him find a job. Shah felt helpless because she had no way of assisting him. Partly as a result of their Delhi experience, both students are seriously considering careers in public health. Since October Ambalam has been working for Evanston Northwestern Healthcare, doing quality-of-life research on cancer patients. In January he started a master’s degree program in public health and hopes to follow that up with medical school. Shah, a senior, is planning on working in a lab this summer. They are currently collaborating on a paper on their research, which they will submit either to an Indian or a U.S. social science journal. While Ambalam and Shah have yet to fully compile all of their data, what is certain is that they both came back to the United States with a new appreciation for our culture. "My time in India was one of the defining points in my life," says Ambalam. "I learned to appreciate the opportunities I have on a daily basis. … I truly feel lucky to be living in America." — E.R. 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