Uti.Culture shock. I can feel it.
I get really angry at the sounds of horns when driving. Maximum angry. I avoided showering for 3 days because the shower in my bathroom is weird. I'm craving drinks and foods from home, the smell of smoke on the crisp summer air. I'm tired of everyone talking about me in Marathi when I'm standing right there. Indian clothes are comfortable, but not who I am, and people have a way of constantly reminding me of this, which is also annoying. The indirect line of control is exhaustingly difficult to navigate, especially for this forward, blunt American girl.
Yesterday, two professors confronted me on having gone into town with that boy from the college. It's difficult for me to figure out my place right now. Sometimes I am treated like a white male, I play games with men, sit with men over chai. Other times, I'm treated like an Indian woman. I'm expected to dress like one, and, on some occasions, to act like one. Which set of social rules should I follow? How do I start making my own set of social rules here?
I got so frustrated with the situation, I started to cry. I excused myself, well, more like just got up and walked to my room, closed the door. I took off my salwar kamis and put on a pair of jeans and the tightest t-shirt I had. I refused to leave the house for the rest of the day, lounging and reading, and resting for the first time since I've been here. I made everyone who came to the house deal with the fact that I was dressed like an American.
I feel a lot better now, now I think the whole episode is hilarious. Like monkey poop on a shoe. I'm sure this is not the last I've seen of culture shock.
Yesterday I almost wore sweat pants and a tee-shirt to play frisbee. I made it as far as the door, but when I saw the hordes of Indian men playing games, I ran to my room and changed into a Kamis and sweats. Such a ridiculous combination. That's how I feel here, like a ridiculous amalgam of cultures. An American anomaly. I dress like an Indian woman, but want to be treated like I am in the US.
The women here seem puzzled at my dress. They say things like, "Do you wear these clothes in America? Where are your blue jeans? You know you can wear jeans here, its OK." The men, however, want me in salwar kamis. These confusions just further my idea that people have no idea how I should act, what I should wear, where my place among them is.
My little girl friends from one of my earlier entries have been stalking me occasionally. They came onto campus yesterday, wearing the same clothes they wore the first time we met. Sita wears a green dress, and the zipper is broken on the back. Her back is mostly bare. She wears braided pigtails with red ribbons at the bottom. Her older friends wear plain dresses that are a bit too large and hoops in their noses. They pointed at a string of beads around my neck and one said "necklace." Then, one pointed at the red stones set in my earlobes, and another said "earring." They remembered the words I taught them! I see them sometimes, standing on the outside of the college fence, watching for me. I'm not sure if they're technically allowed to be on campus.
Two days ago, the phone line was out, so no internet at the house. Yesterday, I tried to blog while at the college, but the power went out 3 times while I was using the computer and I gave up. Somehow, despite all of this, I've managed to check my email at least once a day... it just takes 6 times as long to make it happen. The internet is my connection to the rest of the world. In a town without English newspapers.. its the only way I stay informed. The only way I stay in touch with home.
The shrew. He also lives in the guest house. He runs around under the chairs and sofa, in and out of our bedrooms, in our bathrooms. As i sit here on the sofa, blogging, I keep my feet propped up on the coffee table just in case the shrew gets friendly. Denny wants to kill it, but I won't let him. He said that when it bites me and I have to go to the hospital for rabies shots, I'll wish he would have killed it.
The guards beat the dogs at night.
I did my laundry for the first time yesterday in a bucket. Hung my clothes to dry on the roof. I ruined one of my outfits because black dye ran onto orange material. We recently acquired both a non-stick pan and an iron.. so now we can iron our clothes and flip eggs in the air. Sometimes I feel like I'm camping.. I wash clothes in buckets, filter drinking water, use bug spray...
Denny just held up the pan and said "I bet I could take out the shrew with this..."
I think I've beaten Delhi Belly and am feeling much better. I've also managed to learn all of my girl friend's names. Karuna. Kalyani. Swati. Depali. Sonum. Rashmi. They quiz me every time we meet, so I'm really glad I've finally learned them all. I have a notebook now, so I've started practicing my Hindi, and hope to get one of the lecturers to sit down and teach me for one hour a day. I'm teaching 2 classes, advanced grammar and poetry. I'm excited about both.
The burnt orange mendi has faded to a light tan color, almost matching my skin.
3 comments:
I always seem to have a mouse, just one, that lives in my apartment-- or at least this has been the case in the last four apartments in which I've lived. Just goes in and out as he pleases. I am beginning to think that mice are some kind of spirit animals for me.
So, maybe the shrew is my spirit, protecting you!
In any case, I am there with you sister, half way across the world I am with you.
xx.
It's not like you don't regularly go three days without showering anyway.
Why do the guards beat the dogs?? Isn't this society supposed to be honoring all life - inclusive of the lowly dogs?
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