The Spectacle

My Side of the Room

Caveat #1: I’m finding that, as an American outsider, little is simple in India. So to write about life here is anything but easy. However, I will try to convey a small bit of what my first couple of weeks in Bhuj have been like.

Caveat #2: Talking about life in Bhuj is not the same thing as talking about life in India. Bhuj is its own unique place in the massive, complex country that is India. If you’re looking at a map of Texas, Bhuj is geographically the El Paso of India. It is tucked away in the deserts of the far western state of Gujarat. And Bhuj is as different from Mumbai or New Delhi as El Paso is from Houston or Austin.

                     

Our Street

Nestled cozily on a dirt road between colorful flats and wandering cows, Shulie (another Fellow) and I share a minimalistic room, kitchen, and bathroom in an area called Nootan Colony. The quaintness, however, is simply a facade for the circus of noise that happens every morning outside our door. Shrieking children, shouting mothers, barking dogs, revving motorcycles, clanking pots, and yelling milk men are just a few of the Nootan Colony Circus attractions. The greatest spectacle, however, has just arrived … Shulie and I are now very evidently the main attraction. We can tell by all the gazing eyes, gaping mouths, and giggling children. We are just so…white.

From our flat, I can walk almost anywhere I need to (although invariably I will be the only woman walking by herself on the roads): shops, markets, fruit stands, tailors, and some restaurants - of which our choices are Indian, North Indian, or Indian food. Compared to home, everything is inexpensive. To eat Gujarati Thali (famous local cuisine) at the nicest and fanciest restaurant in Bhuj costs 100 to 150 Rupees, or about $2 to $3.

Our Neighbor Waits Outside Our Door

I live in a corner of the world that has escaped the grasp of McDonalds and Starbucks. Off of the major tourist routes, there are few westerners in Bhuj. It’s part of the reason that Shulie and I get so much attention. I don’t particularly enjoy being stared at, but I find satisfaction in knowing that I’m not just a tourist – that I’m rooted here for almost a year. And soon enough I will be a familiar face in the Bhuj community. Already the gregarious man that sells us vegetables from his stand (who we like because he doesn’t rip us off) knows us and chuckles at my Gujarati, the local language. I’m trying to pick it up as quickly as I can because a little goes a long way on the lengthy road of cross-cultural communication. And until I can get the pronunciation down, I’m quite comfortable with people laughing at my expense. At least there’s laughing.

Overall, each day here at the circus has been an intense roller coaster of highs and lows, but the ride usually leaves me smiling. Because despite the staring, people have been incredibly warm, welcoming, and generous. And when it comes down to it, it’s exciting albeit exhausting, often hilarious, and at least educational to live in a place that’s so different from home.

A Day in Orientation

In Ahmedabad, India, nine World Partners Fellows spent a month-long orientation living in the Kocharb Ashram - a place where Gandhi once lived. It still operates according to Gandhi’s principles, and it is an oasis of calm in an otherwise chaotic, chaotic city. We are the first group of foreigners the Ashram has ever hosted. It is nearly impossible to sum up this intense, wonderful experience concisely. So below is an example of a day in the life…

WPF '09a in Kocharb Ashram

8:10am One of the girls I’m sharing a small room comprised of four cots, one window, one fan, and one light bulb shuffles out of bed. I ignore the wake up signs and keep sleeping.

8:45am I’ve now piled out of my cot, rolled up my sleep sack and mosquito net, and washed my face and teeth with some bucket water. I have to pee, but I can’t muster the motivation to walk to the outhouse and squat over a toilet hole.

8:50am Everyone is standing (because there are no chairs) around a table munching on a breakfast of bananas, stale white bread, and processed cheese.

9:05am We are now in Gandhi’s library for our first orientation session of the day. Sitting in hard wood chairs around a table, there is a portrait of Gandhi looking over us and his collection of books encircling us. I should have peed.

9:45am Sunita, the program officer (a.k.a. our Indian Mother), is giving us an overview of the Indian political system and national NGOs. We are wearing the Salwaar Kameez that Sunita helped us bargain for in the market.

10:30am We break for chai, sunshine, and stretching.

11:00am It’s our third session of the day and we are sitting on the floor discussing globalization and rights-based international development in small groups. Dave says, “Life is a struggle to resist complacency.”

12:30pm We are sitting outside, cross-legged on the grass eating lunch in a circle as we always do. With our hands as utensils, we eat white rice, daal, chapatti and a vegetable dish that is so spicy, mushy, and oily it surely can no longer be classified as a vegetable. It’s tasty.

1:30pm Another session has begun and we have an outside speaker talking to us about the (still in existence) caste system in India. He is the founder of an Indian NGO dedicated to Dalit rights, and he is incredibly inspiring.

3:30pm Sunita gives us a lesson on cultural dos and don’ts, and Lani, our program director, goes over ethical and responsible volunteering.

4:30pm Sessions are over, and we venture outside the Ashram gates into the pandemonium that is Ahmedabad to do some shopping. Dodging all paces of life in the forms of auto rickshaws, motorcycles, rickety buses, bikes, carts, cars, cows, camels, stray dogs, poop, trash, and the lone elephant, we cross a street which seems to have no traffic rules or regulations.

4:34pm We are still alive and can’t help but notice that every single person is staring at us. The staring continues incessantly and unabashedly everywhere we go. It becomes clear that our whiteness makes us very, very different. We smile.

5:45pm Every challenging aspect of accomplishing an errand is a reminder that India is quite different from home.

6:00pm Our friendly auto rickshaw driver talks to us, or at least the male in the group. After finding out we’re Americans he excitedly shouts, “Obama!” We excitedly respond, “Obama!”

6:02pm I smile remembering that everywhere and anywhere, people are people. And we at least have that in common.

6:30pm Back inside the gates, we recuperate from the venture by lying on the grass soaking in the calmness of the Ashram, looking up into the empty, blue sky, and doing a few yoga poses. I contemplate how it makes total sense that yoga was invented here – with all the chaos going on outside, one must find an internal calm.

6:35pm Oops. Our Indian mother has politely told us that in India women do not just lie on the grass or do exercise out in public and if they do they drape their scarves over themselves for modesty.

6:38pm I lament the cultural differences and all the “rules” for women.

6:40pm I adapt, get over it, and move inside to Gandhi’s study for yoga poses. We are pretty sure he’d approve.

The "Shower"

7:00pm I take a shower with a bucket of water, a pitcher, and a drain. (see above)

7:30 pm Dinner mimics lunch. As always, we wash our own plates.

9:00pm While our group sits and chats, I notice the young Indian men who are the groundskeepers of the Ashram playing a simple game with a whiffle ball. Although they keep their distance from us and I’m pretty sure I’m crossing some cultural boundary that I don’t really understand, I work up the nerve to ask if I can join. They look a bit taken aback.

9:25pm With a smile on my face and sweat on my brow, I am thrilled that games allow for cross-cultural interaction, especially when there’s a language barrier. All those hours I played paddle ball are coming in very handy.

11:00pm Despite the fact that we all spent most of the day talking and discussing and listening, the nine of us are piled in one room swapping stories. I’m loving the other fellows.

12:30am With the light of my head lamp, I attempt to write down all the lessons, experiences, and emotions covered in just one day here. I close my eyes, smile, and brace myself to do it again tomorrow.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ashram