When I first arrived in India, my entire brain capacity was consumed by processing the sensory input overload, and all of my energy was used just getting through daily activities. Every night of orientation, I landed in bed at 10pm with my mind spinning and body aching. Now, after 5+ weeks here, I am still generally more dazed and skittish than when in the US, but I am settled. It is no longer a great feat to make it through each day. I have a morning routine, see familiar faces on campus, and proudly told the store keeper who needed contact information for my purchase that I do, in fact, have a local number. This increased comfort with my surroundings has allowed me the chance think more critically about all that I am experiencing. My classes bring up questions about valuing equality and transforming those values into effective policies, while my life outside the classroom slams me with tangible evidence of the structural inequalities at the foundation this society and differing perspectives in addressing the stratification. Analyzing these observations does not lead me towards any concrete conclusion, but rather, generates new questions.
One situation that I have been trying to wrap my head around for the last two weeks is named Umma. She is the (possibly?) 13 year old girl that just joined this happy household. Auntie told us that her father passed recently, and her family has been struggling to make ends meet. Someone that knows the family and my hosts asked Auntie to take her in-- put a roof over her head, feed her 3 meals a day, and teach her domestic work (and maybe English). Some money might be going to her family, too; I'm not sure. So, there is suddenly a young, energetic addition to the family. The problem is that she was technically hired to dust, but there really isn't much work for her to be doing. So, she is out of school to spend maybe an hour a day dusting, and kill the rest of her time loitering around us or watching TV. At first, we had a lot of fun communicating with her through online translators and coaxing her into teaching us Telugu and showing us her dance skills. But, all of that stopped being fun very quickly when she woke us up before our alarms, walked in on us changing, and started stealing our snacks. When Auntie got word of such disturbances, she gave Umma a scolding that left us all feeling uncomfortable and conflicted.
Was the choice really between food and education? Is there no way for her to have both? Is it naive to think that Umma could afford a worthwhile education? Is learning domestic work realistically more beneficial? What is ten less chewy bars to us when this girl has lost her father and is living in a strange house away from her friends and family? Will we regret setting the precedent that it is okay to take our stuff without asking? Should I be shocked that Umma and the other help don't sit at the table when they eat? Or should I equate it to the more subtle way that janitors and professors don't eat in one big happy cafeteria at Emory? I have done a lot of thinking, and Suzanne, Kyla and I have done a lot of discussing. Last night, we discovered that food had been taken that required going through Suzanne's bag. For my fellow house-mate, a line had been crossed and Suz decided that something should be said. But we are still working on the how and when and by whom. And, we also decided that want to find Umma some Telugu books or games or art projects to keep her stimulated all day.
Onto a separate musing- I have been continuing my communication with different doctors and non-profits about potentially volunteering and it is becoming an increasingly stressful process. I am supposed to visit one event this afternoon, but coordinating my attendance over the phone has been a frustrating series of miscommunications. Now, I have to travel 1.5 hours across the city alone, to an unclear location. And, it is still not really clear what this event is, what this organization does, why I am meeting with them, and if they have an opportunity for me. Its times like these when I realize how easily accessible information is in the US-- all answers cannot be found on Google in India. I am not giving up yet, but I am thinking a lot about what I am doing here and why. Where do my priorities lay?
When it comes to volunteering, can I say that something is better than nothing and just going to this one event is worthwhile even if I can't volunteer all semester long? Or am I lying to feel better about myself when I am doing nothing? Could inconsistent volunteering actually do harm because I am not going deep enough into any one job to make genuine progress? Depending on the position, could I actually be letting down children with my inconsistencies, rather than improving their lives? Will it be possible to find something consistent and fit it into my schedule at this point? Are the CIEE day-trips to NGOs just a feel-good activity that doesn't actually help the organization? Is it conceited to think that our simple presence is bettering the lives of these children? Or, is raising our awareness valuable in itself, though less direct and tangible?
While learning about Indian society and asking these important questions, I am also doing some self-reflection. I am truly loving my time here and have been thinking about how it will undoubtably shape the rest of my life. I want my future babies to wear ankle bells and bindis. I also want them to somehow be bilingual. I want them to see more of the world as they grow up. I want to see more of the world myself. But, do I really like traveling? My trip to Hampi was great, but I am realizing that traveling can be quick and superficial, with lots of wasted hours in transport, too much over-eating and over-spending. Maybe I just like living in a cool, interesting, new place? But I don't want to settle down abroad, right? Do I want to spend a year after college aboard?
This posting is only half-coherent, making it a perfect glimpse into my mind right now. I would say that the euphoria is fading in that each new observation and experience is no longer cool because it is simply different. I am starting to see India for more than spicy food, exhilarating rickshaws, cute children, and colorful clothes. And, in its own way, having the excitement dulled is enhancing my experience.
One situation that I have been trying to wrap my head around for the last two weeks is named Umma. She is the (possibly?) 13 year old girl that just joined this happy household. Auntie told us that her father passed recently, and her family has been struggling to make ends meet. Someone that knows the family and my hosts asked Auntie to take her in-- put a roof over her head, feed her 3 meals a day, and teach her domestic work (and maybe English). Some money might be going to her family, too; I'm not sure. So, there is suddenly a young, energetic addition to the family. The problem is that she was technically hired to dust, but there really isn't much work for her to be doing. So, she is out of school to spend maybe an hour a day dusting, and kill the rest of her time loitering around us or watching TV. At first, we had a lot of fun communicating with her through online translators and coaxing her into teaching us Telugu and showing us her dance skills. But, all of that stopped being fun very quickly when she woke us up before our alarms, walked in on us changing, and started stealing our snacks. When Auntie got word of such disturbances, she gave Umma a scolding that left us all feeling uncomfortable and conflicted.
Was the choice really between food and education? Is there no way for her to have both? Is it naive to think that Umma could afford a worthwhile education? Is learning domestic work realistically more beneficial? What is ten less chewy bars to us when this girl has lost her father and is living in a strange house away from her friends and family? Will we regret setting the precedent that it is okay to take our stuff without asking? Should I be shocked that Umma and the other help don't sit at the table when they eat? Or should I equate it to the more subtle way that janitors and professors don't eat in one big happy cafeteria at Emory? I have done a lot of thinking, and Suzanne, Kyla and I have done a lot of discussing. Last night, we discovered that food had been taken that required going through Suzanne's bag. For my fellow house-mate, a line had been crossed and Suz decided that something should be said. But we are still working on the how and when and by whom. And, we also decided that want to find Umma some Telugu books or games or art projects to keep her stimulated all day.
Onto a separate musing- I have been continuing my communication with different doctors and non-profits about potentially volunteering and it is becoming an increasingly stressful process. I am supposed to visit one event this afternoon, but coordinating my attendance over the phone has been a frustrating series of miscommunications. Now, I have to travel 1.5 hours across the city alone, to an unclear location. And, it is still not really clear what this event is, what this organization does, why I am meeting with them, and if they have an opportunity for me. Its times like these when I realize how easily accessible information is in the US-- all answers cannot be found on Google in India. I am not giving up yet, but I am thinking a lot about what I am doing here and why. Where do my priorities lay?
When it comes to volunteering, can I say that something is better than nothing and just going to this one event is worthwhile even if I can't volunteer all semester long? Or am I lying to feel better about myself when I am doing nothing? Could inconsistent volunteering actually do harm because I am not going deep enough into any one job to make genuine progress? Depending on the position, could I actually be letting down children with my inconsistencies, rather than improving their lives? Will it be possible to find something consistent and fit it into my schedule at this point? Are the CIEE day-trips to NGOs just a feel-good activity that doesn't actually help the organization? Is it conceited to think that our simple presence is bettering the lives of these children? Or, is raising our awareness valuable in itself, though less direct and tangible?
While learning about Indian society and asking these important questions, I am also doing some self-reflection. I am truly loving my time here and have been thinking about how it will undoubtably shape the rest of my life. I want my future babies to wear ankle bells and bindis. I also want them to somehow be bilingual. I want them to see more of the world as they grow up. I want to see more of the world myself. But, do I really like traveling? My trip to Hampi was great, but I am realizing that traveling can be quick and superficial, with lots of wasted hours in transport, too much over-eating and over-spending. Maybe I just like living in a cool, interesting, new place? But I don't want to settle down abroad, right? Do I want to spend a year after college aboard?
This posting is only half-coherent, making it a perfect glimpse into my mind right now. I would say that the euphoria is fading in that each new observation and experience is no longer cool because it is simply different. I am starting to see India for more than spicy food, exhilarating rickshaws, cute children, and colorful clothes. And, in its own way, having the excitement dulled is enhancing my experience.
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