Let’s
be honest, I’ve been really bad at keeping up with this blog lately. And it’s
my fault but I’m going to try and explain why as well. I think one of the
reasons that it’s been so difficult to write and write well and document all
the incredible moments that I will one day beg my mind to remember is because
of the intensity of being here. India is a place so alive and vibrant that it
requires a huge amount of energy to live in it each day. And sometimes it’s
positive energy and light and color and lots of food and friendly faces, and
inspiration and admiration for the things that are being done and the people
doing them. But it can also be an assault on the senses, and a forced
acknowledgement of the dark and miserable things, of the hopeless and broken,
and it can imbed in you a profound fear for the future. And the contrast
between these two visions is constant, one day can be gold and the next can be
soaked in oil and burning. Living in an environment that is constantly in flux
does teach me a lot, but it’s also so exhausting. It’s also funny the things
that get to me. I’m working with domestic violence interventions, making visits
to health centers and hearing stories and learning about the insurmountable
issues regarding funding and manpower and advocacy. But my job rarely bothers
me or gets under my skin, because I’m the youngest and most unqualified member
of an incredibly dedicated team whom I look up to, and watching them work is
rewarding, even if what they are working against is hard to face sometimes. No,
it’s the funny little things that probably have some symbolic meaning or
represent a calling of my subconscious or are a reflection of my own
shortcomings or some nonsense like that. All I know is that there are little
things that sometimes mess with me and find a way into my head.
I
think about trash a lot. I know mentioned this in connection with Coorg, but
it’s still a thing. Municipal waste management is an issue in India, but it’s
also a global issue that isn’t slowing down or really being sorted out. The
piles of trash and burning waste and cows and dogs sitting in and eating the
trash and walking through the trash is something I see everyday but I’ve also
refused to let my soul be buried in trash and the stress of seeing it. But the
mentality regarding waste does find a way to weasel it’s way into me. How can
this be something that we are ok with? How come everyone isn’t freaking out
about this? Rivers are burning and nothing is biodegradable and it’s all just
piling up and it has no where to go and we will end up buried in it. And though
I keep my visual panic to a minimum, it’s still very real for me. And I think
it’s important. America generates a huge amount of waste, and I think we’re
just better at hiding it than India, even if we’re not actually better at
dealing with it. Seeing the waste here and moving through it each day is like a
wakeup call, saying this is what the world is like, it’s just that here you
have to walk through it. Whereas at home someone comes and takes it away and
hides it away and maybe recycles. Just imagine if you had to personally deal
with all the waste your household produced. You could compost the food waste,
but then what about the plastic and foam and rubber and oils and batteries and
appliances. A lot of homes and restaurants here do manage their own waste
because no one comes to get it. They dump the trash round the back or even out
front, and the dogs and cows eat the things that are close to edible and then
every few days the whole thing just gets lit up. It’s easy to place blame and
say things like ‘carcinogens’ and ‘air pollution’ and ‘recycle’ but I honestly
don’t know what I would do if one day someone stopped coming to get it. If the
government stopped taking responsibility for my trash. If I had to deal with
everything I threw out, if it just sat in front of my home. Would I burn it?
Would I take it and dump it on the empty lot down the block? I might.
I
also have a problem with surrendering independence. Which is a hard thing to
explain without sounding snotty but that’s a risk I’m willing to take. When
you’re at home, you constantly wish someone would do the menial tasks that feel
like a waste of your time. But beware, those will be the random little things
you miss the most. I had a weird day last week and I was struggling to explain
to a friend why I was in a gray mood and the best I could up with was just that
I was tired of having to pay a man to get anything I needed. I have two buckets
in my bathroom, one that I fill up with water and use to shower with and one
that I use to wash my laundry. Delicates and workout clothes and some kurtas
can be easily washed in a bucket and I do roughly two loads a week and then
hang up all my stuff on my shower curtain and towel rack. But some of my nicer
kurtas and patialas just can’t be done in a bucket and the stuff I wear to work
has to be clean and ironed. So once a week I take a few items to a Laundromat
round the corner. This is the second one I’ve tried, because I took a white
shirt to the first one, and got it back smelling clean but stained with blood
or beetle nut or something. So I moved on. But the man at the new one is grumpy
and I just feel so silly taking my clothes in and paying someone to wash my
stuff. But the Annexe doesn’t have the resources for washing and doesn’t allow
irons and bucket only takes it so far. So, I can wash my workout stuff in my
bucket but then where do I get to use it? At the gym, because I can’t run on
the street for fear of falling in a sewer and for fear of simply being a woman.
And to get my phone and internet stick to work I have to go see a man, and then
wait while he serves the men in the shop first, and then wait more while this
man calls another man and no one can tell me why I’m waiting and ten minutes
turns into half an hour. And at night it’s not safe for me to travel without a
man, and definitely not without company of some kind. And I can’t walk or bike,
I still have to pay a man to drive me. And half the time I’m paying, someone if
trying to rip me off and I don’t like fighting but I end up doing it. And even
really lovely male friends and colleagues that I’ve met sometimes drive me
crazy with the assumption that I can’t or shouldn’t be or do or go. And I know
it sounds ridiculous and I’m complaining about this and most people mean well,
and I’m sorry, but some days but not all days, it just drives me crazy.
However,
with every complaint there is the other side of the coin. Every man that I have
to pay and all the services that I have to seek out that seem so ridiculous and
that I wish I could do myself are jobs. Jobs that people need. Almost every
restaurant, from the fancy bars to the little corner joint, have waiters and
servers, so one person brings your food and the other person actually spoons
out the food onto your plate. And at first it made me really uncomfortable and
then Emily pointed out that both those people now have jobs. India is a big
place full of people. And I always feel like there are too many people working
at the stores I go to, and while I’m shopping an attendant will actively follow
me to show me deals and things she/he thinks I might like. But it’s their job
and it’s a part of Indian hospitality. I’m often overwhelmed but I really try
to remember that hospitality is the name of the game. During field visits to
health centers for work, even if the center is teeming with patients, someone
who works there will take the time to make and serve our team tea or coffee.
Every time I come into the project space in the morning, before they even say
hello, my colleagues ask me if I have had breakfast. The friends I’ve made here
and families I’ve met and stayed with are always trying to give me everything I
need and offer everything they have. So yes, I’m often overwhelmed, and
sometimes frustrated, but I’m certainly never bored. Because it seems to me
that there are two ways to live here; you can battle your way through each day,
fighting to get what you want, to get the price you want and in the time you
want, and you can lose a lot. Or you can just live in it, and accept that
things will take three days instead of one, and that you live so close and in
connection with so many people and forces that it won’t be what you want, it
will be what India makes happen. And sometimes I feel like India knows what I
want more than I do.
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