Monday, July 21, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
A Love like That
We hiked up the hill behind our hotel last night, to boulders that gave us a view of a smog-soaked sky badly in need of rain, whistling with the wind and the sounds of demolition somewhere among the car horns. Off to the left, the Golconda fort tops a bare rocky hill, rising above a skyline of flat-topped houses, the domes of Qutab Shahi tombs and the tops of mosques, whose adhan, (call to prayer) we hear when we are awake and present at the right hours. Somehow we all needed a mountain top.
Lindsay and Ben sat in the lotus position and meditated on their own boulders, Matt made a silhouette of himself standing on another boulder, and I sat a little ways down and let the David Crowder song that had been running through my head work it's way through my lips and onto the city air.
Lindsay and Ben sat in the lotus position and meditated on their own boulders, Matt made a silhouette of himself standing on another boulder, and I sat a little ways down and let the David Crowder song that had been running through my head work it's way through my lips and onto the city air.
-------
And the problem is this
We were bought with a kiss
But the cheek still turned
Even when it wasn’t hit
And I don’t know
What to do with a love like that
And I don’t know
How to be a love like that
When all the love in the world
Is right here among us
And hatred too
And so we must choose
What our hands will do
Where there is pain
Let there be grace
Where there is suffering
Bring serenity
For those afraid
Help them be brave
Where there is misery
Bring expectancy
And surely we can change...
Surely we can change....
Something....
- david crowder
And the problem is this
We were bought with a kiss
But the cheek still turned
Even when it wasn’t hit
And I don’t know
What to do with a love like that
And I don’t know
How to be a love like that
When all the love in the world
Is right here among us
And hatred too
And so we must choose
What our hands will do
Where there is pain
Let there be grace
Where there is suffering
Bring serenity
For those afraid
Help them be brave
Where there is misery
Bring expectancy
And surely we can change...
Surely we can change....
Something....
- david crowder
Friday, July 11, 2008
Where are all the women?
Lo and behold, I am in India. There are people everywhere, living, walking, cows and turds in the road, auto-rickshaws in the streets, and traffic that makes LA and Boston look like training grounds for new drivers. Messy beauty everywhere.
From the moment of my arrival in the Mumbai airport, I've been wondering--where are all the women? I get in line for domestic security picking the shortest of several lines, and I am in a line with all men, thinking, "Well, there are a lot of businessmen travelling in India, I suppose..." Then someone looking official gestures to me and says that the women's line is to my left. Even so, the reason I didn't notice there was a women's line was because of the sheer lack of women in the queue. Perks for me--I get to bypass the long men's lines and walk right up, where I am frisked by a female security officer. Even so, I can't help but wonder, where are all the women?
**edited July 16, 2008**
We've had a week now of orientation, and after our initial trip into the city with peer tutors to show us the ropes of using the buses, we venture out in awkward groups to explore and shop. Of course, as a woman I've been warned by people in the States as well as my program staff as to the ways I should conduct myself on the streets. 1. Cover up. 2. Don't stare, and don't smile at men, which is an invitation for trouble. 3. If men touch you inappropriately, take off your shoe and give them a good whack--they deserve it, and local women would freak out equally on them. So all of this has left us girls wondering how exactly we are supposed to act American women, cultured to be independent and fight for our individual rights, yet crashing into outwardly submissive roles in order to preserve our safety. We've been given stereotypes of the slutty rich Hollywood American woman, and the submissive Indian woman. There is no one to imitate, no model of a culturally adapted American woman in India. We want a third option, but we haven't found it--yet.
Meanwhile, I still can't figure out where all the women are. Standing on the streets, selling fruit and clothes and sunglasses and sweets, selling in the shops, and running the hotel (A/C, pool, restaurant, all inside a gated community!) where they are putting us up during our orientation, it's all men, all the time. Of course, I do actually know where the women are--tucked away in the houses, with the few exceptions who we see in the buses and shopping in the streets. Yet walking through the streets with comically American students, it seems I've made the same mistake as I did in the airport, and we are all standing in the men's line. Wondering, "Where are all the women?"
-------
From the moment of my arrival in the Mumbai airport, I've been wondering--where are all the women? I get in line for domestic security picking the shortest of several lines, and I am in a line with all men, thinking, "Well, there are a lot of businessmen travelling in India, I suppose..." Then someone looking official gestures to me and says that the women's line is to my left. Even so, the reason I didn't notice there was a women's line was because of the sheer lack of women in the queue. Perks for me--I get to bypass the long men's lines and walk right up, where I am frisked by a female security officer. Even so, I can't help but wonder, where are all the women?
**edited July 16, 2008**
We've had a week now of orientation, and after our initial trip into the city with peer tutors to show us the ropes of using the buses, we venture out in awkward groups to explore and shop. Of course, as a woman I've been warned by people in the States as well as my program staff as to the ways I should conduct myself on the streets. 1. Cover up. 2. Don't stare, and don't smile at men, which is an invitation for trouble. 3. If men touch you inappropriately, take off your shoe and give them a good whack--they deserve it, and local women would freak out equally on them. So all of this has left us girls wondering how exactly we are supposed to act American women, cultured to be independent and fight for our individual rights, yet crashing into outwardly submissive roles in order to preserve our safety. We've been given stereotypes of the slutty rich Hollywood American woman, and the submissive Indian woman. There is no one to imitate, no model of a culturally adapted American woman in India. We want a third option, but we haven't found it--yet.
Meanwhile, I still can't figure out where all the women are. Standing on the streets, selling fruit and clothes and sunglasses and sweets, selling in the shops, and running the hotel (A/C, pool, restaurant, all inside a gated community!) where they are putting us up during our orientation, it's all men, all the time. Of course, I do actually know where the women are--tucked away in the houses, with the few exceptions who we see in the buses and shopping in the streets. Yet walking through the streets with comically American students, it seems I've made the same mistake as I did in the airport, and we are all standing in the men's line. Wondering, "Where are all the women?"
Friday, July 4, 2008
Sun, California cliffs, a Blue Sky that Knocks me Over
I am post-beach and unmistakably लाल घन . That is, laal ghan. That is, red-butt. That is, a Hindi expression for white people who go to India and get sun-burned. My pride was hoping not to have to use that phrase ever for myself; alas, there are certain unreachable portions of my back that are now a screaming pink.
I am लाल घन and I haven't even gotten on the plane yet.
I am लाल घन and I haven't even gotten on the plane yet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
