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.

One more set of photos: of my house & host family

Here is the view out my window onto Raja Park. It’s a small park but it’s cute. I went running there one morning and it was predictably awkward, but much more pleasant than running in the streets. The small red booth-like thing you see on the sidewalk is where someone irons clothing. I don’t know who the fellow in white is in this picture, but he’s there a LOT.

The next two photos were taken from our rooftop at dusk. The views are quite nice. In the first photo you can see the fort on the hill way in the background. In the second photo you can see some of the decay (for lack of a better word) that is typical and, after a while, unremarkable.

And this is my host family and the other students I’m staying with. From left to right, approximately:

Dinyar (a student, in blue)

me (in orange)

Megin (a student, in blue)

Aditi (our host “sister,” in green)

Mathu (a student, above Aditi, in tan)

Arushi (our host “sister,” in red & tan)

Aunti-ji (our host “mother,” in lavender)

The other student who lives with us, Chloe, is taking the picture

A pack of monkeys, sparks shooting from the wall, and four Americans found encased in ice

Yesterday was very exciting. My host “sister” came home with a brand new car (!) which had already been taken to the temple to be blessed (!). She was bringing around ladoo to celebrate (a really tasty sweet) and stopped by my room to show me the car down in the driveway. I saw it, congratulated her, and she left. Not two minutes later I hear her run back down the hall screaming, “OPEN THE DOOR! QUICK, JUST OPEN THE DOOR! MONKEYS!!”

She barged into my room and slammed the door and put her back up against it. She said there was a pack of 7 or 8 monkeys sitting on the veranda just down the hallway from my room! Apparently Adithi is quite terrified of them, especially because she had the ladoo in her hands and monkeys love to steal food. We snuck down the hallway to have a peek, and there they were! They looked cute enough to me but Adithi insisted they were going to attack so we went back into my room. Just a second later the host mother came up the stairs with a giant stick and started whacking the ground. The monkeys took off at the sound of it before I could get a picture. “Don’t worry, they will come back tomorrow, you will see,” she said. I sure hope so.

A few hours later (after dinner) my light started flickering like a strobe light. I played with the button and  got it to stay on. The Megin shouted down the hallway that her light was flickering, and could she come study in my room? I said sure, and as soon as I said it, my light started flickering again. Damn. And just after that, the lights went out. But they didn’t just go out quietly, oh no. They went out, and then the place in the hallway where all the wires poke through the wall (presumably the site of a future circuit-breaker box), which is about 15 feet from my room, started to shoot sparks in a big stream across the hall. (I can hear my dad’s blood pressure rising from here.) I screamed a little (yes I am a wimp sometimes) and the sparks stopped. And then they started again! And I screamed again! And there was the faint smell of burning and we all got very afraid and then it stopped. Fortunately, the whole building is concrete.

So, no power, and it was 11 at night so no one was available to fix it, and the temperature felt like it was still in the 90s. So all the Hindi student girls (not the family) piled into one downstairs room (the downstairs had power) which was air conditioned. We didn’t think to ask for the remote before we went to sleep. And so we froze, all night. I had brought my fleece blanket so I had that and a sheet and I still woke up frozen. The other girls only had sheets and hardly slept a wink for being so cold. You’d think we would have figured out how to turn off the AC but we didn’t. Tomorrow’s headline: four American girls found frozen in Rajasthan. In the middle of a boiling hot desert.

Also in exciting news, I went for a run this morning. It was predictably awkward. The only people who smile at me are old women. They seem happy to see me. The younger women GLARE at me, shooting daggers with their eyes. I’m thinking next time I’m going to wear one of those special thingers to fight the Evil Eye. I see now why everyone has them. The men (predictably) stare at me in really uncomfortable ways, but at least none of them said a word to me. I was just running laps in the park RIGHT next to my house, so it was relatively known and relatively safe. PLUS I was wearing loose-fitting pants (in this heat!) and a loose-fitting tee-shirt. It was good that no one outright harassed me. That’s an improvement over walking down the street. Next time I might try running in a larger park. This one was pretty small–just the size of one block. The other downside to this one is that there’s a community pee-place at the corner of it (on the street, but still.) and one corner of the lap really, really smells bad. Which isn’t fun when I’m out of breath from running.

Just yesterday I was thinking that nothing terribly exciting had happened, and then the monkeys and hallway fireworks show happened. So now I’m thinking that nothing really boring, calm, relaxing, or refreshing has happened. Perhaps I can will those things into my life as well.

Aaj Beh-he-ter Hai (“Today is better.”)

In Hindi the word for “better” is pronounced something like “beh-he-ter.” I’m pleased whenever there are English cognates (and there are some, though not many). So, today (aaj) is beh-he-ter.

I slept in my new room and cranked the AC (I’m paying for electricity anyway) and I WOKE UP SHIVERING. How awesome is that? COMPLETELY AWESOME. Plus, now I walk to school, and it’s a pleasant walk with some friends, and I don’t have to negotiate with the crazy rickshaw-wallahs and I don’t have to have small change on me all the time and do you know what the best part is? I had the best-tasting yogurt I’ve had in my whole life with aloo paratha for breakfast this morning. Usually I hate plain yogurt but this stuff was homemade and it was incredible. Our Aunti-ji is a great cook. Or she hires great cooks, I’m not sure which. The maid came to clean my room this morning and it was a bit strange, but at least it was over quick. I’m still not used to it, I don’t know if I ever will be, but it’s becoming easier to accept.

I now live with four other American students. We had a small impromptu party in my room last night and I felt like this big weight had been lifted. I still miss everything and everyone in Madison (and some people in PA and TX, too!). But I don’t feel like crying all the time today.

The word for “fiance” in Hindi sounds something like “alligator” except it’s actually something like “mun-GEH-tar.” My new host family has two young women my age who are making a lot of fun of me for talking to Matthew so much. Last night they asked what his proposal was like, and I told them, and they sort of swooned. One has already had an arranged marriage, one probably will have one. I wanted to ask them what’s it’s like, marrying someone you don’t really know, but there wasn’t time. Still, it seems a big question to me. What is it like to sit there and promise your whole life to someone you’ve never met?

Moving out of my old house was painful. I had the school call a trustworthy rickshaw-wallah to take me to my old home, wait for me to finish packing (after yesterday morning’s fervent unpacking),  load up my stuff, and bring me back. I tipped him 50% of the fee because he was so patient and helpful. I think I made his day. Packing up was awkward, and I told my host mother that I had found another house and was going to move. She did that Indian head-tilt thing (anyone who’s been here knows what I mean) and said, “As you wish.” I asked about the rent and offered to pay for two weeks worth (even though I was only there for one week), figuring I was being generous and if they needed money they could find someone else to rent the room in July. She did this weird thing where she said, “Oh no, I’m not asking you for this, we are not in this for the money, you do not have to pay this.” (pause.) “But all Indian room rentals operate on monthly contracts, you know. You won’t find rooms for less than one month.” (pause.) “But you pay whatever you think, you don’t have to pay this, we don’t need this money.”

Okay, cultural issue here. What on earth does this woman want? At this point I had no idea.

So I gave her half a month’s rent, figuring (in my American way) that if having a whole month’s rent was important to her she’d ask for it (hah, lesson learned). And then she said that it would be 500 rupees more for the dhobi. 500! That’s like $12! He only washed my clothes ONCE! She said it was no matter, he charged by the month, and he’s 500 a month. This was when I figured out she was mad at me, because no dhobi in Jaipur will charge that much. That’s ridiculous. I think she just wanted to squeeze more money out of me.

And THEN she insisted that the dhobi had not brought my clothes back, so I’d have to return to her house the next day for them. I said no, I’m sure he brought them, he took them Saturday morning and they must be done by now. She insisted I was wrong and that he didn’t take them until today (though she was out of town on Saturday, so how would she know?) and she said the clothes weren’t there. I held my ground and insisted they were, and eventually she “found” them, but at this point it was clear she was angry and upset and I just wanted to get out of there. So I hurriedly packed the remaining stuff in my room and headed out. I felt awful. I’m sure that could have been handled better. But done is done, and I’m much happier. The new room is pricey, but the AC and friends are totally worth it. Plus the awesome food, and the cute Indian baby to play with!

My next project is to see if I can buy myself a cheap and/or used and/or small and/or Asus EEE laptop (with preference on the Asus) to use while I’m here. There’s a cafe with wireless right by the school (though it took us until yesterday to find it) so if I had a laptop I could be uploading beautiful photos for you all. Thank you all for your comments. WordPress makes the formatting awkward to reply to each of them, but your words of support mean a lot to me and I look forward to the time every day when I can log in and hear from you. I am taking your advice and trying to be gentle with myself (I think the new room and the AC counts) and I do have my mp3 player, so maybe I’ll listen to some bluegrass or country for a taste of home.

chaos, new family, clothes

India is definitely chaotic. People tell me I’ll get used to it (I suppose I have to get used to it!) but I’m not sure. The horn honking starts around 7am, and it’s ubiquitous. Kids will play in the streets, and there are vendors calling out their wares, and the ever-present animals. I’ve gotten better at walking down the street. It’s sort of a religious experience. I just have to let go and trust that everything will work out. Probably it’s good for me to learn that, but I wish I didn’t have to learn it under such crazy circumstances!

I moved into my host family yesterday. They’re nice, and they have made me feel welcome, though it is a bit awkward what with the language barrier and all. They speak pretty good English (the husband is a doctor and the wife is a professor), and their son actually speaks better English than Hindi. But my Hindi is apparently not so good, or at least my listening comprehension is terrible, so I really struggle to understand what they say. So, it’s awkward, but moving into *anyone’s* home would be awkward in the beginning. Hopefully it will get smoother over time. Every other day there is a laundry person that comes to take our laundry, and brings it back the next day, ironed. Whoa. But apparently we can’t send any undergarments, as that’s not ok by india’s conservative norms.

Today I should be able to get a cell phone. Apparently in India one has to have a “permanent address,” two copies of a passport photo, and assorted other paperwork to get a cell phone. I have no idea why, except that Indians seem to have a fondness for excessive paperwork. I’ll be glad to have a phone and will send out the number to anyone who wants it, just in case you feel like calling to the other side of the world.

Yesterday we went cloth shopping, and I bought some beautiful fabric that I am going to have tailored into several Indian outfits. I don’t know what I’ll do with them when I return to the US, but all the clothes and jewelry and scarves here are so colorful and beautiful it’s hard not to buy a lot all at once! In India the labor for tailoring clothes is far cheaper than the fabric, so getting clothes made just for me is relatively inexpensive.

The neighborhood kids are all very curious about the white American woman staying on their street and I get stares every time I leave the house (which, okay, has only been a few times). At some point I’d like to talk to them, but they all talk so quickly I can never understand what they’re saying.

Otherwise, not much is going on here. We have our first real class tomorrow, so hopefully there will be lots of homework to fill up my time. Otherwise I just sit around missing Madison and my friends and family.