Thursday, September 30, 2010

India's Gender Justice Gap, Part II

Greeetings all!

After some much-needed R&R in Rajasthan, it's back to business as usual here in Kadod. I last left you with what, for me, was a thought provoking article about the so-called 'Gulabi gang' of female vigilantes who are literally tackling India's timeless patriarchy head-on, one flogging at a time. Writing for Slate magazine, Ms. Amana Fontanella Khan queries, (almost rhetorically, I might add):

"Why aren't they turning to political activism as opposed to vigilantism?"

At least one explanation is intuitive enough: The Gulabis are symptomatic of a larger pattern in India's State-society relations in which the contemporary State has a nearly-uncontested grip on political authority while, at the same time, a great deal of society (especially disenfranchised groups) is pessimistic regarding politicians' capacities to effectively govern - to say nothing of nearly ubiquitous doubts over the veracity of leaders' commitments to legitimacy.

Naturally, periodic features of the news cycle send moonlight politicos into fits of jingoistic saber-rattling and partisan flag-waving. Today, for example, the verdict to a centuries-old-dispute between Hindus and Muslims was conclusively adjudicated by India's Supreme Court. Electricity grids and cell-towers were down throughout our (majority Muslim) district for the better part of the day. (Tangentially, some have speculated that this was a ploy to disrupt communications-technologies which would have been critical for organizing an impromptu riot-turned-bloodbath, of which nearby Surat has painfully recent memories). At any rate, so far as I know, all's quiet on India's western front. Still, party leaderships were quick to chime in on the ruling and what has for centuries been a matter of faith and decades a matter of litigation, finally died a matter of party politics in the course of a few hours.

But back to the issue of gender justice, why indeed do the Gulabis lack a legitimate political parallel? To my thinking, it's because, like many Indians, they tend to see the politics of the State as an obstacle to (not a source of) social progress. Their very existence is proof enough that the India's legal system of protecting equality-between-genders (or lack thereof) is fundamentally broken. Noting that, the Gulabi movement is expressly invested in compensating for, rather than fixing that system. While state leaders use party lines to dither about oughts, Gulabi women use their homemade cudgels to point to what is. But are they a reasonable, or even sustainable vision of what could be?

I don't think so, but absent a legitimate (preferably nonviolent) alternative to improving what is now a decidedly bleak outlook shared by most of India's nearly-60,000,000 women, one can only fault the Gulabis to the extent that s/he believes that justice only trickles down from the Law, rather than surging up from the people who follow it.

It can be difficult to imagine for those of us who hail from a government which self-consciously purports to be "of the people, for the people, and by the people;" but at least here in rural India, there's enough of a vacuum between the government and the people that groups like the Gulabis have more than enough room to do something like lynch a rapist without legal consequences. This same political vacuum exists in India's neighbor to the west - to the effect that Taliban and al-Qaeda cells have established a virtually impregnable outpost in South Asia. So, given the dramatic contrast of terrorist training camps in the Federally Administered Tribal Areas, shouldn't we be relieved that India's legitimation crisis has taken the form of women banding together in the face of a cruel and oppressive patriarchy?

Maybe so.

When it comes to women's issues, the Indian State is a broken record (and to their credit, these Gulabis are doing one hell of a job to put a spin on "revolutions per minute"). They're bold beyond convention and assertive to the point of violence. They are, in the truest sense, radicals. Historically, they remind me less of early 20th century America's legions of flappers and feminists as they do later 20th century America's radicalized civil rights activists. Lamentably, it took more than their tragic assassinations to clear (or at least mildly polish) in America's history books the names of Malcolm X and Huey P. Newton. In spite of that - perhaps in part because I'm writing to you on the last day of September, a month as auspicious for American social justice in 1862 as it was in 1957 - it is my suspicion that more traditionally celebrated and relatively moderate agents of change (most notably Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.) may not have been given their national platforms but for the much less palatable picture of radical alternatives cropping up in mainstream America's headlines.

Whether we like it or not, the attention it's garnering from the international media is itself a testament to the hypothesis of the Gulabi experiment: that when the oppressed contend with their oppressor, a sharp blow from a bamboo stick may now and again leave a deeper impression than a manifesto of words.

Unfortunately for those of us who hold stock in Mahatma Gandhi's cautionary truism that, "An eye-for-an-eye leaves the whole world blind," Indian political leaders have yet to give meaningful evidence of both the depth-of-insight and range-of-foresight necessary to (legally) close India's gender justice gap.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Very Near, Not Very Far

On Tuesday evening, I returned from my first adventure in India.  While the students at Madhi High School wrote their first term examinations,  I travelled through four states in India for twelve days, exploring cities and ancient architectural wonders, meeting people from all over the world and of course relaxing over ice cold beer.
Party in Bombay
My trip began on Friday September 10th.  I decided to commence my tour of Western India in Bombay (Mumbai) for the weekend because my friend Carrie was returning to St. Louis permanently and I wanted to wish her farewell.  After another action movie scene of running after the moving train (sadly, this is becoming normal for me), four hours later I arrived in sunny Bombay.  I hadn’t seen the sun in a couple months so I was ecstatic!  That night, Carrie’s friends threw her a huge farewell party.  Over fifty people showed up- many other Americans who live and work in Bombay as well as all of her Indian friends.  After an hour or so, the party was dying because someone was playing soft rock music.  We were talking about playing more party-friendly music, but no one knew how to work the sound system, so I went for it.  As some of you might know, I have some experience as a DJ, so one thing led to another and I became the official DJ of the night.  It turned into an awesome party and finally started dying down at 5:00 AM.  I had an awesome time DJing and everyone seemed to like my music selections.  Anytime someone had a request, they approached me and asked, “Miss DJ Emily, can you please play....”  It was quite a fantastic night!

Spinning cotton at Gandhi's house
After a relaxing weekend hanging out in Bombay, late Sunday afternoon I hopped on a train to Ahmedabad, the capital of Gujarat, not far from the state of Rajasthan, my destination.  I arrived in Ahmedabad at midnight and the city was wide awake, celebrating another festival, Ganesh.  I definitely should have booked a hotel, but the procrastinator and poor planner that I am thought I could find something when I got there.  Thankfully, my rickshaw driver spoke English and drove me all over the city until I found an available room at Safar Inn.  (A note about rickshaw drivers in India- their favourite phrase is “Very Near, Not Very Far” when you ask for directions anywhere).  The manager, Francis, is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.  He is Indo-Portuguese and has been to over one hundred countries around the world.  He and his wife own a medical tourism business and travel frequently to promote their work.  He was so happy to talk to a foreigner and we actually spent most of the day talking about our experiences in Africa while he gave me a personal tour of the city on the back of his motorcycle. 

Francis took me to Gandhi’s house where I learned to spin cotton just as Gandhi did every day.  We also went to the best ice cream parlour for mango lassis, to a famous textile museum, and a night market where I shopped for beautiful and colourful Gujarati fabric.  We finished our evening with a delicious dinner from McDonald’s.    I look forward to going back to Ahmedabad again and spending more time with Francis and his family.

Udaipur
The next day, I arrived in the lake city of Udaipur in Rajasthan.  Immediately, I knew I was in paradise.  This small, quiet European-like city surrounds a large lake.  The weather was excellent and in no time I fried in the sun that I hadn’t seen in so long.  I spent my time exploring the ancient lakeside palaces where famous Indian kings had once lived.  I even took a boat to the palace located in the centre of the lake. Udaipur is unique because every building has a rooftop restaurant and bar overlooking the city and the lake.  I spent each night leisurely enjoying Rajasthani thali (small samples of several kinds of food) and sipping ice cold Kingfisher beers with other travellers from all over the world.   One night, Zach met me in Udaipur and we had dinner with an older British couple who is driving around the world.   Norman and Barbara spent 25 years working six days a week at a convenience store to save up for a trip around the world in their Land Rover. They had arrived from the Middle East and Iran was actually their favourite country they’d visited thus far.  A year earlier, Barbara was diagnosed with Huntington’s Disease and they decided to speed up the trip so she could enjoy it before her disease progressed.  They were fascinating to talk to and had so many great experiences and words of wisdom to share.  Another day, I spent the whole afternoon walking around the city with Joe, a graduate of a school, just outside my hometown, St. Louis.  We took an electric cable car to the top of a mountain that overlooks the whole city.  At the top, we talked about the Cardinals and St. Louis,  as well as our travels, while drinking ice cold beers.  It was a great afternoon.

Wearing a snake
Snake charming
After a few days on the lake, I hopped on an overnight bus to Jaipur, the pink city and capital of Rajasthan.  Eric met me here and together we walked around the city where all buildings are a light shade of pink.  We explored ancient forts and climbed to the tops of mountains all over the city.  At Amber Fort, we met a group of snake charmers (snake charming was outlawed several years ago) and learned how to play the wooden instrument that makes snakes rise up from their sleep.  The charmers then wrapped the black python around my neck which was an incredibly strange feeling.   At Sun Temple, nicknamed Monkey Temple, hundreds of monkeys roam the hills.  Here, we fed them peanuts which they took straight out of our palms.  We witnessed a macho monkey grab a dog and continue to punch it until it limped away.  We also spent a good half our throwing peanuts high into the air, making the monkeys jump for them so we could try to get a mid-air shot with our cameras.  Unfortunately, the city of Jaipur was slightly overcrowded and much polluted.  People all over the city try to take advantage of tourists and we had our fair share of run-ins with scam artists. Nonetheless, we enjoyed everything we saw and still managed to have a great time.
Monkey training
At night, in Jaipur, we ate delicious tandoori chicken at rooftop restaurants.  One night we ate with a couple, Holly and Adam, from London.  After dinner, they taught us some famous British drinking games and we continued on to a few more pubs.  After two days in Jaipur, we’d felt we seen it all, so we impulsively decided to hitch a five-hour ride to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal.  What can I say? The Taj Mahal is just as magnificent as you imagine it to be.  This massive monument is positively stunning and I could just stare at it for hours. I would like to go back in the future because you are supposed to go at sunrise and unfortunately it was pouring when Eric and I visited and our visit was slightly tainted.
The Taj Mahal and I
Royal Rambagh Palace courtyard
We returned to Jaipur for one more day before the long journey back to our village.  On our last day in Jaipur, we hung out with a couple from the Vermont, Julia and Tom, who are also travelling around the world.  We found out that the best hotel in the world is in Jaipur, so we made reservations for high tea at the Royal Rambagh Palace, once home to a king but was converted to a hotel in 1950.  It was exquisite as we snacked on scones and tasty pastries while sipping the “champagne of tea”.   I then pretended that I was touring hotels to find one suitable for my parents and we asked to see a room.  The cheapest room runs $2000 a night, in case you’re planning a visit!

Late Monday night, we ended our journey as we boarded our night train back home.  All in all, I had a great time and enjoyed travelling by myself much more than I expected.  I met so many interesting people and saw a much different side of India than I experience in the village.  Fourteen noisy and uncomfortable hours later, we arrived home in the village.  While we were gone, the monsoon ended and now it’s scorching hot and sunny once again.  I knew I was back in the village when I walked into my house and went to my cupboard and found a rat inside.  While I was away, a rat managed to break into my cupboard and ate my year’s supply of DayQuil and NyQuil, of all things.  There is one very medicated rat somewhere in my house right now.   I think I’m ready for another vacation.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Happy Ganesh Chaturthi!

Ganesh Chaturthi is a 10-day long festival honoring Ganesh, the Hindu god associated with wealth, success, and the removal of obstacles. In the weeks leading up to the festival, idols of Ganesh are constructed all over India, some as small as an inch tall and others as tall as 25 feet! The celebration of Ganesh Chaturthi ends on the 10th day when the idols of Ganesh are taken to be submerged in bodies of water, symbolizing a sending off of Ganesh to his home in Kailash while also taking with him the misfortunes of his worshipers.


I came back to Kadod just in time for the last day of the festival, otherwise known as Ganesh Visarjan. In Kadod, there's a road that stretches down to the bank of the Tapi River, making this town the most convenient place for Ganesh Visarjan to take place within a 10km radius. From noon until 7:30pm today, more than 60 Ganesh idols were brought in on ornately decorated carts pulled by tractors and vans. With each procession, the devotees of that particular idol would dance to music booming from loudspeakers, throwing handfuls of pink-colored powder at each other and at bystanders, like me.



When I was asked several times by friends and familiar students to dance with them and play dodgeball with globs of colored powder, I felt so relieved to be back in Kadod where, unlike cities like Jaipur, I feel people make genuine efforts to make me feel like a part of their community. I was happy today being able to comfortably call Kadod my home away from home.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Happy Ramzan Eid!

Weeks earlier, one of my Spoken English students, Rizwan, invited Zach and myself to celebrate Ramzan Ei (also known as Eid ul-Fitr) with his family. Ramzan Eid marks the end of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan during which Muslims fast from sun up until sun down every day.

Traditionally, it is forbidden to fast on this day, so the day began with Zach, myself, and Rizwan's family sharing a small breakfast. We showered compliment after compliment on Rizwan for his enthusiasm in Spoken English, but his parents still told us that if he ever acts up during class, we shouldn't hesitate to do what we have to put him back in line. We didn't ask them to clarify.

At 1pm, I returned to Rizwan's house to have lunch, which was chicken biriyiani, assorted vegetables and popper (fried, fluffy, corn chips kind of dish). I arrived at 1, as I was told to do, but the rest of the family had already eaten right before I got to the house. I was really confused why I was the only one with a plate while the rest of them were just watching me. I begged them to at least a little with me, but I think they preferred and actually enjoyed just watching me eat.

After lunch, Rizwan's father drove me to the cosway (bridge) which had been underwater for the past few weeks due to the monsoon's. Just this morning, the waters had receded enough to let bikes and cars drive through. We spent at least half an hour walking through the water coming up to our ankles talking about the village, his career as a bus driver, and Rizwan's future. Although I have a long long way to go before I feel comfortable with my Hindi, I was so happy that I had this conversation with him and was able to spend time like this with someone in the village.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

India's Gender Justice Gap

As I sit down to comment on the state of women in India, I'll be the first to admit to a fair deal of self-consciousness. I really can't help but be deeply aware that I have a certain perspective which might well be likened to a pair of tinted spectacles. The lenses that color my world with its particular hues are principally informed by (among many cross-cutting identities) my gender, ethnicity and cultural background (white American male). Nevertheless, it is the world and not the lens which I look at on a daily basis. So, after several months of looking, it's time for me to speak.

Kadod, I'm sorry to say, is a working model of much of what's terribly wrong with the situation that most Indian women are subject to. Daily, I meet and work alongside women who are nightly beaten by their husbands. Even though I was born and raised in a society that vehemently disdains domestic violence against women, I am crushed less by moral disgust than by my sheer powerlessness to help these women help themselves. There are no women's shelters here. In fact, so far as I can tell, there doesn't seem to be any kind of support network in place for abused women living outside the city. Here, even a battered woman's place is in her home, so friends are hardly in a position to offer her a safe place lest they imperil themselves or their families. This is to say nothing of law enforcement agencies (dominated, incidentally, by men) who tend to shrug off domestic abuse as a fact of nature.

I don't want to mislead you. I've met plenty of men and women here who don't appear to be living in physically violent or otherwise hostile domestic situations. In fact, I would go so far as to say that for a large majority of people I've met here. But the prevailing attitude here in the village is that what goes on in other people's homes is other people's business. When good people do nothing in the face of injustice, silence becomes consent.

Grim as the situation painted above must seem, it's hardly aberrant. From what I can gather, it's much the same in any of India's rural villages (which house more than 80% of her 1.2 billion people). According to present projections from the United Nations, 2 in 3 married Indian women are abused by their husbands. That means that there are roughly 100 million more battered wives in India than there are people in the United States. It ought to go without mentioning, but especially for a country widely presumed to lead the world's power politics over the course of the next century, that's a jarring -- and shameful -- figure.

Recently, Slate magazine ran an interesting piece about the Gulabi movement: a gang of female vigilantes out to avenge women who are beaten by their husbands. I think their story raises some fascinating issues concerning the roles of state and society in India; invokes larger dilemmas of means versus ends; and ultimately, points to the the challenge of figuring out how we can eliminate the worst injustices suffered by some of the most disenfranchised human beings on the planet. I invite you to read that article by following the link below. I'm going to get to work putting together some of my own thoughts about the Gulabis for my next post. In the meantime, I'd welcome any and all of your comments and ideas.

How To: Make Lemon Juice

Last week, in Spoken English class, I taught my students the Imperative tense. Go to sleep, brush your teeth, do you homework and so on.  Then, I had them write a short list of the directions and commands their parents give them on a daily basis.  I got a wide variety of responses- Stop hitting your sister! Eat your roti (bread)! Turn down the T.V.! To assess their understanding of the lesson, I concluded with a homework assignment.  They were instructed to write a "How to" on a certain task- a recipe, how to make something or how to do something.

The following morning, my students arrived for class, eager to share their homework.  One student wrote instructions on how to make a paper boat.  Another students explained how to make the famous local sandwiches here.  Below are instructions on how to make lemon juice.  Dhaval, one of my most hard-working students gave detailed directions on how to make this popular local beverage.  While he suggests serving it cold, it can also be served hot, to sooth a scratchy throat or assuage a cough.  Enjoy the recipe!

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Happy Krishna Janmashtami!

Today, Hindus around the world celebrated Krishna Janmashtami, a festival commemorating the birth of the god, Krishna. Thanks to Hiren Patel's enormous generosity, I was able to witness parts of the celebration in his community and with his family. All over Kadod, families and friends gathered in houses and temples lifting up prayers and offerings to the baby Lord Krishna. As I took time to soak it all in during the night, I came to really appreciate the intrinsic value of being a member of such a small, close-knit community. It's something that I and many others miss out on in the states, being able to see your neighbors as friends and even family.

According to Hiren, in years past, communities in Kadod would begin celebrating Janmashtami and have songs and prayers occurring 24 hours a day for 8 consecutive days. That practice has been left to tradition, but members of the Hindu community here will still pray and sing several hours a day during this time of celebration. Thank you again, Hiren!