An Indian man was nice to me, and an unrelated but funny cultural clash

Up until now every interaction I’ve had with an Indian man in public (i.e., outside of school) has been neutral at best (we ignore each other) or assault at worst (they grab a handful of my backside). There’s been a remarkable dearth of men who are polite and pleasant to talk to (again, outside of school). However, yesterday I had my first not-horrible experience with an Indian man on the street. As I was walking out of school, I met a man who sells water purification systems (of all things). He had seen all the foreign students coming in and out of the apartment complex where our school is located, and he thought maybe we all lived here and needed water filtration systems. I told him we lived scattered around the city, and he looked disappointed. He gave me his card and said if anyone needed a water filter, could I please pass along his card? I tried asking him some questions, like whether most families had a filtration system, how many they company sold a month, what was wrong with the Jaipur water, etc. He answered as best he could. Quite notably, he did NOT hit on me, whistle at me, grab me, or holler obscenities at me. I count it as a successful interaction.

I talked to my host family here about getting a wedding dress made while I’m here, since tailors are inexpensive. The family got really excited and wanted to make it as colorful as possible. Rajasthani wedding outfits are always very bright and shiny, with lots of embroidery, detail, and jewelry. Someone told me that Indians wear pure white as the color of mourning. Clearly, we had a cultural misunderstanding– they kept trying to add lots of color to the dress we were designing, and I kept trying to explain that a lot of color is not appropriate on a wedding dress. Except I was trying to explain why color was inappropriate without saying anything about, ahem, “purity,” and I completely failed. At the end of the conversation they were still insisting on purple and pink flowers embroidered all over. Maybe I’ll hold off on having a dress made here. My host mother thought that 32,000 rupees (about $800) would be a reasonable amount to spend on a dress. I told her there’s no way I can afford that and she looked perplexed. Weddings over here can have hundreds of people and be a week-long affair, so $800 for a dress seemed like nothing when compared to the rest of the spectacle.

Today I have two new adventures awaiting: a trip to the post office, and a trip to pick up my clothes from the tailor’s. Should be interesting. The friends I could ask to go with me are sick, and I dread walking down the street alone.  Although I’m getting better at ignoring the harassment, it’s still exhausting. But, alone it is.

dhire dhire (slowly, slowly)

Today we went to see a Hindi film and do you know what? I understood about 80% of the dialogue!! This is unbelievable to me. During class movies I understand MAYBE 30% or 40%. So it was a great feeling to catch the jokes (most of them anyway) and to really follow in detail what was going on.

After the movie we went shopping. I bought some pretty fabric and am having some pretty shirts made and a beautiful skirt. My Hindi must be better than I thought (warning: boasting ahead), because one of the shopkeepers said I spoke the best Hindi among the group of us. There’s been so little to feel really good about that I’m going to hold on to that compliment for a little while. Just to nurse my ego a bit. it’s taken a bit of a beating in the last few weeks.

So, I think maybe I like India. Maybe just a little. Talking to people (and understanding what they say) is getting much easier, as is navigating the streets. I feel less overwhelmed by the streets lately (probably a function of both my Hindi getting better  and growing a thicker skin) and much more comfortable in the shops. I even managed to buy things like batteries from the electronics-wallah and phone cards from the cellphone wallah. It’s been a hard adjustment to India, and the gender differences are still preposterous, but somehow it seems to be getting easier. Well, that and I memorized some choice Hindi phrases for asking people what their problem is and if I should call the police. And I’ve been taking friends with me wherever I go, which reduced the harassment.

So, tomorrow we leave for a week-long adventure to Ajmer, Pushkar, Amritsar and Dharamshala. I’ll try to update while we’re gone, but i can’t say for sure. I still miss everyone and hope you are all doing well.

Cows: the untold story

Someone told me that the cows here are all owned by people. And that at night, everyone finds their own cows and herds them off. To where exactly, I do not know, as this is a city with not a lot of pastureland. I assumed that was why the cows were eating garbage in the first place, because there was nowhere to put the cows. Where do the cows go at night? Into people’s apartments? It is a mystery to me. So if the cows are not wandering cows, if they truly belong to people, then are these cows used for producing milk? (Why else would one own a cow that one considered holy and un-eat-able?) So these cows that people own, they eat the trash off the street, and so I have to wonder: Are they producing the milk that goes into my morning lassi (yogurt drink)? Or the paneer in my lunch? Is that street trash being recycled into my evening meal? I try not to think about this, but I am definitely curious.

Although it’s becoming more normal to walk by cows on the street (and pigs and goats and dogs and camels and horses), I don’t know if I will ever stop being startled by the sight of such LARGE agricultural animals nosing through the large piles of trash. There are some really fat pigs and cows here. I think it’s a permanently startling sight.

Also, we had a monkey on the roof last night! (And yes, I can say that in Hindi. I can’t say “leave me alone,” but I can tell a story about monkeys!) I didn’t see it on our own roof, but I saw it hopping around the neighbor’s roofs. Except for their funny-looking red bottoms, they are so human-like it’s startling. Every time I see a monkey I’m startled by this, especially by their eyes.

As for the other wildlife in the street, the Jaipuri men have been leaving me along a little bit more. I’ve cultivated my scowl, and I’ve been draping myself in excessive layers of clothing (so much that I’m starting to think a burqa would simply have to be more comfortable). I’ve also been trying to go with people when I walk somewhere, but I’ve had less success with that. The harassment is a big downer. There’s nothing like constantly getting the message that you’re a second-class citizen who’s not entitled to decide what happens to her own body to make a girl feel blue. It’s really made me dislike this city, which is a shame, because I hear lots of other people rave about how wonderful it is. Why, just today, we had a (male) professor from the US talk about how easy it is to talk to shopkeepers in Jaipur. Yep, easy. Until they start following you down the street, and send their brother to look for you after you’ve finally ditched them, and generally keep harassing you (happened to me and Clare). I’m betting that this has never happened to that particular professor. I’m still pretty cynical about this, clearly.

Today is Friday. On Sunday we leave for a short “Hindi camp” trip to Ajmer and Pushkar. After Hindi camp we have a five-day break. Some friends and I will be leaving on a massively-unplanned trip straight from Hindi camp to go north to Amritsar and Dharamshala, so I won’t be back in school until July 21. I’ll try to update from the road, but as the trip itself is unplanned, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to find the internet. But: HIMALAYAS! How awesome is that?

Overall, I’m feeling better but still pretty down. This trip has been really really hard, and some snarky comments from classmates (“If you feel like you can’t wait to get back to America something is WRONG”) have left me feeling sort of…lame. I know it really is hard, and I shouldn’t feel bad, but I do. The exciting news is that when I get back from my trip to the Himalayas, two good things will happen: this whole adventure will be halfway DONE, and the following week I’ll get to meet Kathleen O’Reilly, a prof. who studies water and society and gender in Rajasthan. How perfect is that?

Photo post failed; kiddie computer is too slow

I tried to post the remaining three photos of Jodhpur, but the kiddie computer I’m borrowing is finding the photos a little difficult to handle. So, next time.

I’d really like to have something good to say.But today i am overwhelmed again. The street harasment is really wearing me down. I get harassed EVERY day, walking to school and walking home. There is a group of men who hang out on the roof of a neighboring building and try to peep in my window. Whenever I open my curtains they all point and move closer to my window and stare at me. I am harassed even in my own room. Men follow me around in stores, they call at me on the street, they fall silent and stare when I walk by. In Jodhpur I was stared at a LOT and I was groped by someone walking by our rickshaw. EW. I am SO SICK of all  of these men who think they can just get into my personal space. I AM NOT PUBLIC PROPERTY. Fuck off, assholes. Unfortunately I can’t say that in Hindi, and anyway, doing so might escalate the situation.

I am also really sick of all the priviledge the men in the language program don’t realize they have. Today we were assigned a “scavenger hunt” which involves going out and talking to members of the public. Of course this is easy for men to do, so the men in my group immediately suggested that we split up the work. They don’t seem to realize that a single American woman can NOT just start random conversations on the street. Hell, if I am seen as available for harassment just by being in public, what will happen if I try talking to strange men? The male students have such priviledge here that they don’t even have to consider their personal safety.

Today i am just so mad. I get harassed constantly and it’s exhausting. And there is literally no escape. I finally broke down and talked to a teacher about it today. She’s going to help me with the peeping toms, but the regular street harassment she can’t do much about. Even my friends have noticed that I’m getting it worse than most people. I dress pretty modestly, so the only thing we can suppose is because I’m tall (taller than most women here) and blond. Ugh.

I’m still looking for a good story to tell about things lately. But really, I still just want to go home.

Women’s bodies and public space

Some things are getting better here: my housing is great, the food is great, I have AC, and friends, and classes are manageable. This is all good news! However, I’m still very worn down by the constant harassment on the street. I mean constant. I can’t go a block without getting multiple lascivious looks, an “Allo madam!” or “Hey lady!” or “Allo Allo Alloooo!” Today two men on a scooter made kissy faces at me for half a block. I was ready to deck them.

Apparently, I need to cultivate my scowl. Yesterday I was in a foul mood from the short story we had to read this week (about rape) and I went to buy some consolatory cookies at the store, which is only 2.5 blocks away. And in that short walk, I became so angry (from the day, from the story, from the catcalls) that I had this magnificent scowl on my face. I mean, I smile a LOT, I rarely scowl, but this? This scowl was a piece-de-resistance. I mean, it was maybe the most intimidating scowl of my life. It was that good. If I had known what good fortune it would bring, I would have been proud. So when the male employee at the grocery store stared at me for a few minutes and then offered to help me (these men frequently try to carry my basket around for me) I snarled a rather irritated “NO!” at him, and he left me alone for the rest of my shopping trip. Now THIS is a revelation. Can I stop the catcalling by being a scowling, grumpy, mean, squinty-eyed angry person?

So this morning during my run at the park, when I usually get stared a lot at but not catcalled, I tried very hard to look like I was really pissed off and ready to bite someone’s head off if they talked to me. It’s uncomfortable to do, but I had some residual grumpiness from yesterday, and it worked. Most of the men walking laps around the park stopped staring at me after one or two laps.

On my walk to school today, I tried to scowl the whole way there, but I was talking on the phone with Matthew and it’s nearly impossible to scowl when I’m talking with him. So I got harassed by a little boy (“Allo! Allo? Allo!” and he ran after me), stared at by a number of rickshaw drivers, and kissy-faced by the aforementioned men on scooters. Still, I scowled more than usual, and I’m going to keep working on it. Matt and I were lamenting the fact that there is no international standard for “F**k you!” Why not?? Who’s responsible for these sort of things? They need to get on it.

Somewhere in here is a more serious post about women’s bodies as public property, and the privilege that men don’t realize they have in making comments and insults. Public visibility (at least by Western-looking women) is apparently seen as being available for men’s attention. I sometimes find myself quite envious of the women who ride and walk around town in burqas. Although I’m sure they face other types of harassment and discrimination, I’m willing to bet they don’t get catcalled, hooted and hollered at by men looking for one thing only. What a relief it would be to be able to walk to the store unnoticed. My fair complexion and light hair makes invisibility nearly impossible. My classmates here who are Indian-American rarely get catcalled or harassed. And the male students here seem shocked when we talk about it. Why are they surprised? (I know the answer, but that’s a post for another day.)