Things!

25-09-2013

I realize that my last post was rather heavy (and also lacking in personal adventures), so here comes a lighter and hopefully less serious post about my life.

Where to start? I am currently in my room with my Christmas (or Diwali) lights on, and my fan on full blast. My favorite thing to do after class is come home, take off my Indian clothes, and lie under the fan in a tank top and underwear for several minutes. I would say that it is a guilty pleasure, but it is almost necessary to keep me from dying from heat, or something like that.

All drama aside, things here have been settling fairly well. I have been here for over a month, and am finally working my way to a routine. There are still things that I find surprising, in both positive and negative ways. For example, the other day I was walking to a café when a man riding a bicycle passed me. Attached to his bicycle was a wide cart, and on the cart were tied about eight goats. Yes, tied. They were all on their bellies with their legs underneath them, and tied down to the cart and to one another with a piece of twine. None of them looked particularly distressed; in fact, they looked around with curiosity, almost seeming to enjoy their private carriage. I regret that I didn’t have my camera with me, because I doubt that I will ever see anything like that again. On the flip side, there are also unpleasant surprises, like rickshaw drivers following you for blocks, asking if you need a ride and unfazed when you yell “NO!” at them in Hindi. These people aren’t usually dangerous, but man, are they a bother. I have a serious need for some Hindi expletives, or at least some rude hand gestures.

Things with my host family are going well, though the family conducts itself in a way that I am entirely unfamiliar with, and often don’t know how to function in. Our host mother, Sarika, cooks dinner for everyone, and serves us (and often our host sister as well) dinner around 7:30 every night. We are expected to just sit and wait for our food to come on round silver plates, and after we finish we put them in a bin on the floor. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her eat, for she waits until her husband gets home (around 10:00 or 11:00, I believe) so she can serve him and then finally sit down to eat as well. Our grandmother seems to wait as well, though she is a mysterious force in the home, yelling Hindi and giving us meaningful but indiscernible looks as we eat our food.

A woman comes every day to clean all the dishes and clean the house as well, so our host sister, Riti, has not been brought up to be neat. Quite the opposite, really. She is also incredibly destructive, to a point where I have no words left to say. Last night she sang us a song about poop, finished her dinner and threw her plate on the ground, wiped her face and hands on a newspaper and then on a doll, then proceeded to pick up the doll and use it to hit me on the head, an activity she seems to find particularly rewarding. Well, as long as one of us is having fun it’s okay, I guess. She seems to hit me out of affection or some other strange emotion, or at least that is what I’m telling myself. Still, I do like her a lot. She is smart and silly and fun, as long as she is breaking her own things and maybe taking a break from violence.

School has continued to be frustrating, though it has been inspiration for some very good doodles. I have talked to several people about the class format, but nothing has seemed to change much. I think the problem is that so far I have been respectful and sweet and quiet. It’s time to let the real me out! Of course, I will still broach the topic respectfully, but I need to be firm and quietly angry. We’ll see if I can channel that. I tend to be the “good cop” in situations like these, but I think it’s about time for a role change.

We are in the middle of week five, and our semester is only fifteen or sixteen weeks. During week eight we have a week-long travel period, and two weeks after that is our independent travel weekend. When we get back from that, we will have only about a month left. While India has been confusing and hot and scary, I really am enjoying myself here, and I will feel strange leaving.

Well, those are my ramblings for today. Thank you for putting up with them. Stay tuned for next week, when I will relate my soul-bearing origin story from ordinary shmuck to formidable superhero!

Women in India

24-09-2013

We’ve been talking a lot about women’s status in society, and while I thought I knew about many of the issues present in India today, it’s completely different to read about them in my cozy dorm room in upstate New York and to walk amongst them and feel the societal expectations all around me. Something that has struck me is the discussion about child marriage. Southeast Asia has a huge number of child marriages each year, and apparently India accounts for 40% of that number. Even though individuals are not legally allowed to marry until age 18 for females and age 21 for males, the sad fact is that this law has not done much to protect young girls and women. The government cannot intervene unless the marriage is legally arranged, and this law has only caused child marriages to occur more secretively. Child brides are at high risk of being exposed to domestic violence, in-law torture or starvation, death from pregnancy or childbirth complications, STDs, and (not surprisingly, after this list) severe depression. We have been talking about reasons for child marriage, and while some of the explanations make some sense to me, I still feel that there is something missing. We have been told that child marriage began in India when the Moguls began to invade, as a way to protect them. If they were given to another family, they would have a man and another set of parents to keep them safe. It was also explained as a “solution” to rape, by which I assume they mean rape from invaders. Economically, child marriage allows poorer families to have one less mouth to feed and to pay a lower dowry rate.

We have also been told in our Women’s Studies class that women in Ancient India were free and equal to men, though the evidence that we have been shown has seemed unreliable and questionable. It seems to be a widely accepted idea, along with the notion that women’s rights began to be restricted out of concern for their safety from invaders.

What upsets me about these dialogues is not necessarily the topic, because I had steeled myself for difficult discussions. What makes me angry is the way they are presented. I haven’t heard any accounts of child marriage from a woman who actually was a child bride, and there doesn’t seem to be any solid evidence about the speculation about ancient Indian women’s rights. It seems to me that these issues are presented with a certain degree of detachment. I want to know the why behind these questions. Why does child marriage really exist and continue? How can we actually stop it? And why, if women were equal to men, would they allow their rights to be taken away from them? If there were important priestesses and queens and speakers that were highly educated, how were they duped into giving up all their agency? I don’t know solutions to these questions, otherwise there would be an answer key at the bottom of the page. But I want someone to acknowledge that these are legitimate questions and learn about the debates that surround the multitude of issues surrounding women in India (and the world).

Recently, with the public eye on the violent rapes occurring in India, I have learned a bit more about the cultural stigma of rape here. If a girl tells her family that she has been raped or sexually assaulted, she becomes damaged goods, and can no longer be married. If her family supports her in her search for the rapist, there is a slim chance that he will be found or arrested. And if he does happen to come into police custody and is convicted of rape, he and his victim must marry. The recent case in Delhi is unusual, and may have to do with national attention and pressure, and perhaps these men are being used as an example. While I would like to think that no one wants to promote rape, this is what we Americans call “rape culture” at its peak. Of course, my judgments and observations are based on my American upbringing, and my ridiculous feminist assertion that society ought to be egalitarian, with men and women on equal standing. I realize that as an outsider looking in, I may not have the experience or right to judge. But I think that listening different angle of view can also be a good wake-up call. If only someone would listen.

Photos!

Oh, also! I promised some pictures, and completely forgot. Here are some, I think. I'm not entirely sure how to use this website.

The Red Fort in Delhi (I studied this in my Islamic art history class).

The largest mosque in India (in Delhi).

Some muqarnas in the Delhi mosque.

My horrible picture of some elephants on the streets of New Delhi!

The Imam told us this was a hair from the Prophet Muhammad's beard. Apparently his hair was naturally reddish, so that is why people use henna today to color their hair.

The Prophet Muhammad's sandal.

One of many cows on the streets of Varanasi.

My house-mate, Amy! (She didn't like this picture so don't tell her that I used it.)

A typical Indian storefront with snacks and water (and chai to the left of the frame).

A bad picture of me in front of a temple at Banaras Hindu University.

Godaulia, a town nearby.

The story thus far

18-09-2013

Dear friends,

Thank you for your patience with me as I bumble along with this blog. My journey thus far has been exciting and insane, but I should definitely commit to posting at least once a week, otherwise I will not be able to include everything!

We are in the middle of the third week of classes, and things have progressed. I have tried to start discussions in my class which have half worked out, but sometimes end up in tangential discussions which I still do not understand. Nevertheless, I will continue my efforts. The readings for most of the classes are interesting, but the teachers often only refer to them in passing, which can be irritating. However, I have had a couple of very fun and engaging conversations with some of my other classmates, so that certainly helps to keep me motivated.

Practical yoga classes have also started (at 6:30am on Mondays and Thursdays), and that has been interesting as well. So far what I’ve gleaned from my readings on yoga theory and my discussions with our teacher is that yoga in India is much less about the physicality of yoga and more about the mindfulness. Of course, the physical and mental efforts have to remain balanced, but I suppose I am more used to viewing yoga as a “workout,” not a time for meditation and reflection. As it starts to get cooler in Varanasi, we will move up to the roof and practice up there, which I am quite looking forward to.

We didn’t end up going to the Taj Mahal last weekend because of the train tickets. Apparently in India trains are quite popular and crowded, and therefore one must buy them significantly in advance. There are also several classes of seats that are available for purchase, some of which we were warned against. Most of the train rides tend to be fairly long (some even up to 24 hours), so they are outfitted with sleeping bunks. This Friday we are all planning to get together and buy tickets for our next completely free weekend (which is not for a while—we have field trips for classes nearly every weekend).

I definitely have to start doing research on surrounding areas, as we have a long independent travel weekend coming up, and plans need to be confirmed well ahead of the travel date. Also, my dad and Troy are planning to come visit me (!!!!), so I have to figure out the best places to take them and try to plan that out as soon as possible. Obviously the Taj Mahal is a must, but there are so many interesting things that are available (like desert camel safaris with live music and dance at night, hikes in the mountains where tigers are quite common, a city that is famous for its ghosts, and so on and so forth). I just have to figure out the right way to schedule them all and the cheapest (and safest) way to do it as well!

So far, even though I came to India concerned about safety, it hasn’t been a huge issue. Though walking on the street is always dangerous, it’s unavoidable and something that local Varanasi-goers deal with daily. People stare at me a lot and one group of Indians asked to take pictures with me, but no one has tried to kidnap or kill me (yet). People have mostly commented on my lip piercings, looking horrified when I tell them that yes, the studs go through my lip. A couple of people have also commented on my race, seeming confused when I told them I was American. I suppose they encounter mostly Caucasian visitors and tourists, but explaining that my family has lived in the U.S. for generations to shopkeepers is always slightly uncomfortable.

Actually, for the most part, we’ve been told to ignore people who specifically want our attention. Many small children greet us as we walk down the street, and while replying may seem friendly, it can also be understood as a form of encouragement and put you at risk to be pestered (and possibly pickpocketed) for a while. We are offered rickshaw rides every few steps, and shopkeepers yell out, “Madame, come look at my shop!” from every direction. I did find it amusing being called “madame” for the first few times, but I’ve decided now that I want to earn that title. Someday when I am a rich and famous _______ (fill in career), people may refer to me as Madame.

Houses tend to be dark in Varanasi (and India as a whole), which I found depressing at first. But this week I’ve attained two strings of Christmas/Diwali lights, 50 tea lights (and small clay cups to put them in), clove-scented oil, and an oil diffuser. I have also hung a tapestry near my bed. Slowly I am making it homier, which is improving my attitude towards nearly everything.

Well, this has been a long post. Before I go, I want to relate to you all something that happened yesterday. My host mother, Sarika-ji (the –ji suffix denotes admiration and respect), has a five-month-old baby boy. Now, babies in India don’t tend to wear diapers, so I am not honestly sure how their parents deal with the inevitable. However, yesterday Amy and I had a little check-in with our family and Wanda, one of our program directors, just to make sure everyone was comfortable. While we were sitting in their bedroom (which doubles as a family room with the television and air conditioner [!!!]), Sarika-ji was holding the baby up against her chest. There was a lull in the conversation when suddenly there was a huge fart (I couldn’t think of a more elegant way to say that.), and what Amy described as “curry sauce” (disgustingly accurate), shot out of the tiny baby and all over his mother. And then it happened again. All of us were cracking up, and he looked at us innocently, with a hint of confusion. Raja-ji (our host father) swept the baby into the bathroom while Sarika-ji went to clean herself up. Sometimes I think that I want to have kids, and it is times like these that make me nearly ready to take up celibacy. Well, celibate practitioners are supposed to be better at yoga anyway, and I prefer yoga to baby poop any day.

Yes, I just ended with a poop story. Sue me.

Love,

Rose

10-09-2013

10-09-2013

I made it through my first full week in Varanasi, going to classes and familiarizing myself with the area. Classes so far have been difficult for me, but unfortunately not in an intellectually challenging way. I have found out that the Indian style of teaching is one of pure lecture, which is not something I am used to at all, especially coming from Bard. The classes are also an hour and forty-five minutes, which is far too long to focus on one thing. I have also begun to have a problem that has never affected me before: falling asleep when I am bored. I suppose it’s honest, at least, but it’s a little embarrassing to be nodding off in a class where I constitute 25% of the attendees.

Today I have three classes and have already asked a fair number of questions in my first one, though the only discussion it started was one between the teacher and me. Some of my fellow students thanked me for speaking up after class, but I wish that the conversation could have been more inclusive and longer as well. Unfortunately, I think a class-wide discussion is something that needs to be facilitated by the professor. I’m going to continue my efforts this afternoon, but I might have to talk to the professors and/or the program director.

I am starting to become accustomed to life here in Varanasi. Even walking the five minutes from my house to the program house where we take classes is a different adventure every morning. Today I almost slipped on a big cow pie on my way to class! Luckily I had bought some exceptionally ugly flip-flops to trade out for my beloved Birkenstocks, at least for the rainy season.

I am still a little sick, and want to get rid of this cold as soon as possible. Our group of students is planning to possibly go to Agra this weekend to visit the Taj Mahal! That would be something. But it would be more enjoyable if I were entirely healthy. Fingers crossed.

Love,

Rose

P.S. I am planning to post some pictures later today, so stay tuned!

03-09-2013

03-09-2013

Happy Tuesday! Today was my second day of classes. I have “City of Confluence,” “Women, Development, and Environment,” and “Living Religious Traditions” on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Yoga will start next week and will be from 6:30am to 8am, so I will be even busier then. It seems that Monday, Wednesday, and Friday will be my light days. I’m excited to be able to explore a bit more, although traveling alone as a woman is not always safe, especially at night. However, learning Hindi will absolutely help me get around.

There are nine students (including me) in the program, and there are several different electives, so our largest class size is still quite cozy. I think I don’t tend to participate much in large classes because I don’t know everyone and I’m afraid they will judge me. So far in this context, though, this has not been the case. I have always tried to push myself to contribute more instead of taking the role of the observer, and perhaps this is the place to really perfect that.

 It’s only about 1:20 in the afternoon as I write this, but I am already exhausted! It might be due to some cough syrup I took earlier today. Whatever the case, I am definitely planning on taking a nap as soon as I get home. I have already finished all the work for this week because I am neurotic, so I actually have nothing to do when I finish class. We are starting out slowly, but I suspect that this program will not assign the amount of work I am used to having at Bard (which is a ridiculous amount).

Love,

Rose