... well, actually, I (Heide) fell off the wagon. Here I was, thinking that I'd be writing a blog every 3 - 4 days, when the reality is that I'm pretty terrible at writing even once a week! I heartily apologize to those people who have been following and waiting for the next post - I realize that we are here in India BECAUSE of YOU, so the last thing I want to do is to seem ungrateful.
Thus, in reparation, Eli and I will be writing a blog post every day we have left here. They'll be short, but hopefully enjoyable and interesting. This first one may not be so short, though. :)
To begin, I have a MILLION things I want to share with you!!!!! I'm going to try to get to as many as possible before I keel over from exhaustion (it's been a long day), so don't be surprised if I abruptly end this post.
Okay okay. First, I want to tell you a little bit about a new dimension of Kolkata that I've recently gotten to experience - the poorest of the poor. Yes, we've thrown around that term many times - "Help us serve the poorest of the poor alongside the Missionaries of Charity" and all that - but until 2 weeks ago, I hadn't seen it in such a direct way. The MC homes (Prem Dan, Kalighat, Shanti Dan) are beautiful, hopeful, joyful places for people to live. They are the destinations for the poorest of the poor. But the residents that live at these places come from somewhere... and it's that "somewhere" that I experienced.
Kolkata has many holes, corners, nooks, shadows, and crevices. Because there are over 14 million people in the city alone, even these areas are crowded with people. Each person may be there for a different reason - maybe the frail, weak, skinny old man has TB and can't even scoot himself across the floor. Maybe the pregnant, dirty young woman has a mental disorder that impels her to reject food and water from people, preferring to scowl and move away to sleep in some other corner. Maybe the toothless, raisin-wrinkled, lice-ridden old woman has been dropped off by her family because they don't want to take care of her anymore. Maybe the groggy young man fights for his money, which is why he is covered in deep gashes and can hardly walk. Each one, however, is precious. Each one deserves love from their neighbor. And each one is someone that I've personally gotten to meet.
Tragically, not all of them have happy endings. The old man, before he could be helped, vanished, meaning that he was probably put on a train to "clean up" Kolkata, which also means that somewhere along the journey, unless someone took pity, he was probably pushed off. The pregnant woman continuously refuses help from passers-by. The wounded young man has gotten his gashes bandaged a few times, but infrequently shows up for dressings. The old woman, however, has ended up in an MC home, tearful, happy, peaceful, and fed.
Now don't misunderstand how I got involved with these brothers and sisters - I simply happened to be in the right place at the right time to meet them. And there have been many many more that I haven't mentioned. I wanted, however, to share with you a small slice of what I've been able to experience. I've personally been so blessed by God's grace to come in contact with these poor, because, even though it's been incredibly hard to recognize the reality of the situation (you don't even know), I've spent a lot of time reflecting and trying to learn from each person. So many people don't get to see true and complete poverty that I consider myself so fortunate to be here - and for 3 more weeks at that!!
So thank you again, actually. I'm overflowing with gratitude because I don't deserve such grace and love from you <3 <3 <3
Okay, on to my next topic: Battle of the Sexes.
I have some particular friends in mind as I write this, because I hope that they'll read what I have to say about gender roles in India. If you're American, you've probably heard many complaints about the continuous problem of gender equality, race discrimination, and general disrespect towards people who are "different" in America (i.e. sexual orientation, religion, ethnicity). I, having been educated at a state university, have definitely heard my share. In a lot of ways, people who complain about these things are right - in a perfect world, we understand that each person is our brother or sister, regardless of anything that may seem to separate us.
That being said, when I get back to the States, I'm going to have a whole new outlook on how I am treated as a person, and particularly as a woman. Why? Because the culture in Kolkata, as I've experienced it in the last 7 weeks, has taught me 2 big things about itself:
1. Color matters.
2. Gender matters.
You've heard us say it before and I'll say it again: Because I am white, half the time I'm treated like I'm a celebrity, and the other half the time I'm treated like I'm an idiot. Children giggle and wave at me across the street (cute). Young men on motorcycles slow down just to tell us "I f*** you" before driving away (not cute). Little girls ask me if I'm wearing contacts because they can't believe my eyes are blue (cute). Taxis, street merchants, auto rickshaw drivers constantly try to scam us into paying 10 - 15 TIMES the price (not cute). Isolated incidences? Ha! I wish.
I walk into a store to look for lotion, and there's a "whitening lotion" being advertised under the well-known brand called "Fair & Lovely."
The personal ads under the "Wanted: Grooms" section in the newspapers are littered with descriptions like "fair" and "light-skinned" because it's a huge selling point.
About half the time I look a young Indian man in the eye, I see his eyes on my chest or scanning my body. It happens so much, I don't look them in the eye anymore because I emotionally can't take the IMMENSE disrespect. Several male Indian friends of mine have told me the biggest reason why this happens: I am a white female, making me the same color and shape that they see in all the porn (Indian porn is a tiny market, so I'm told), thus they easily correlate me with being an object for their viewing pleasure, not a person to be respected.
Those are just a few of the MANY MANY MANY examples of why color and gender matter here. Just for fun, let me share a few more things:
Women are far outnumbered by men, because having a girl child means having a burden on the family. After all, when she gets married, her husband is supposed to get a HUGE dowry (even though there are way less women, so in reality the man is lucky to have a wife at all...) That being said, ultrasounds to determine the gender of the child aren't allowed across India because if the parents find out their child is a girl, the probability for abortion goes way way way up.
Women shouldn't be drinking, smoking, or hanging around at night, because that would mean that they are "loose." (Literally, my male friends at Seva Kendra don't allow me to buy beer at a shop at night because of this stigma. Instead, they buy it for me and I pay them back.)
Generally speaking, a woman's duty in the home is still three-fold: cook, clean, and (pro)create. Eli and I have spent ample time in many Indian homes and they tell us this themselves!
Okay, I'll stop. Of course, I'm talking about a general culture and not individual ideas about such things. I've met several educated, unmarried, confident Indian women who don't subscribe to the traditional arranged-marriage/family life. Also, not all men treat me poorly - many men actually are incredibly sweet and helpful, especially on the buses when I need to sit down. In fact, because of these men, I'm convinced that Jesus lives on the buses in Kolkata because I feel so loved almost every time I take the bus (not even joking :) ).
Today, actually, I was talking to a super nice Hindu man on one of the buses I took, and he asked me if I thought that India was the City of Joy (it's nickname). I thought about it, and truthfully replied something like, "I don't really think it's the City of Joy, but rather like the City of Compassion." That's totally how I feel. Despite my observations, despite my discomfort, despite the tragedy, I truly love Kolkata. I have family here, I have hope here, and Jesus is EVERYWHERE here!!
Dang it! I only got to two things! Tomorrow, we'll be posting something shorter, so thanks for reading, dear family. Please keep praying for us - we are always praying for you.
Thus, in reparation, Eli and I will be writing a blog post every day we have left here. They'll be short, but hopefully enjoyable and interesting. This first one may not be so short, though. :)
To begin, I have a MILLION things I want to share with you!!!!! I'm going to try to get to as many as possible before I keel over from exhaustion (it's been a long day), so don't be surprised if I abruptly end this post.
Okay okay. First, I want to tell you a little bit about a new dimension of Kolkata that I've recently gotten to experience - the poorest of the poor. Yes, we've thrown around that term many times - "Help us serve the poorest of the poor alongside the Missionaries of Charity" and all that - but until 2 weeks ago, I hadn't seen it in such a direct way. The MC homes (Prem Dan, Kalighat, Shanti Dan) are beautiful, hopeful, joyful places for people to live. They are the destinations for the poorest of the poor. But the residents that live at these places come from somewhere... and it's that "somewhere" that I experienced.
Kolkata has many holes, corners, nooks, shadows, and crevices. Because there are over 14 million people in the city alone, even these areas are crowded with people. Each person may be there for a different reason - maybe the frail, weak, skinny old man has TB and can't even scoot himself across the floor. Maybe the pregnant, dirty young woman has a mental disorder that impels her to reject food and water from people, preferring to scowl and move away to sleep in some other corner. Maybe the toothless, raisin-wrinkled, lice-ridden old woman has been dropped off by her family because they don't want to take care of her anymore. Maybe the groggy young man fights for his money, which is why he is covered in deep gashes and can hardly walk. Each one, however, is precious. Each one deserves love from their neighbor. And each one is someone that I've personally gotten to meet.
Tragically, not all of them have happy endings. The old man, before he could be helped, vanished, meaning that he was probably put on a train to "clean up" Kolkata, which also means that somewhere along the journey, unless someone took pity, he was probably pushed off. The pregnant woman continuously refuses help from passers-by. The wounded young man has gotten his gashes bandaged a few times, but infrequently shows up for dressings. The old woman, however, has ended up in an MC home, tearful, happy, peaceful, and fed.
Now don't misunderstand how I got involved with these brothers and sisters - I simply happened to be in the right place at the right time to meet them. And there have been many many more that I haven't mentioned. I wanted, however, to share with you a small slice of what I've been able to experience. I've personally been so blessed by God's grace to come in contact with these poor, because, even though it's been incredibly hard to recognize the reality of the situation (you don't even know), I've spent a lot of time reflecting and trying to learn from each person. So many people don't get to see true and complete poverty that I consider myself so fortunate to be here - and for 3 more weeks at that!!
So thank you again, actually. I'm overflowing with gratitude because I don't deserve such grace and love from you <3 <3 <3
Okay, on to my next topic: Battle of the Sexes.
I have some particular friends in mind as I write this, because I hope that they'll read what I have to say about gender roles in India. If you're American, you've probably heard many complaints about the continuous problem of gender equality, race discrimination, and general disrespect towards people who are "different" in America (i.e. sexual orientation, religion, ethnicity). I, having been educated at a state university, have definitely heard my share. In a lot of ways, people who complain about these things are right - in a perfect world, we understand that each person is our brother or sister, regardless of anything that may seem to separate us.
That being said, when I get back to the States, I'm going to have a whole new outlook on how I am treated as a person, and particularly as a woman. Why? Because the culture in Kolkata, as I've experienced it in the last 7 weeks, has taught me 2 big things about itself:
1. Color matters.
2. Gender matters.
You've heard us say it before and I'll say it again: Because I am white, half the time I'm treated like I'm a celebrity, and the other half the time I'm treated like I'm an idiot. Children giggle and wave at me across the street (cute). Young men on motorcycles slow down just to tell us "I f*** you" before driving away (not cute). Little girls ask me if I'm wearing contacts because they can't believe my eyes are blue (cute). Taxis, street merchants, auto rickshaw drivers constantly try to scam us into paying 10 - 15 TIMES the price (not cute). Isolated incidences? Ha! I wish.
I walk into a store to look for lotion, and there's a "whitening lotion" being advertised under the well-known brand called "Fair & Lovely."
The personal ads under the "Wanted: Grooms" section in the newspapers are littered with descriptions like "fair" and "light-skinned" because it's a huge selling point.
About half the time I look a young Indian man in the eye, I see his eyes on my chest or scanning my body. It happens so much, I don't look them in the eye anymore because I emotionally can't take the IMMENSE disrespect. Several male Indian friends of mine have told me the biggest reason why this happens: I am a white female, making me the same color and shape that they see in all the porn (Indian porn is a tiny market, so I'm told), thus they easily correlate me with being an object for their viewing pleasure, not a person to be respected.
Those are just a few of the MANY MANY MANY examples of why color and gender matter here. Just for fun, let me share a few more things:
Women are far outnumbered by men, because having a girl child means having a burden on the family. After all, when she gets married, her husband is supposed to get a HUGE dowry (even though there are way less women, so in reality the man is lucky to have a wife at all...) That being said, ultrasounds to determine the gender of the child aren't allowed across India because if the parents find out their child is a girl, the probability for abortion goes way way way up.
Women shouldn't be drinking, smoking, or hanging around at night, because that would mean that they are "loose." (Literally, my male friends at Seva Kendra don't allow me to buy beer at a shop at night because of this stigma. Instead, they buy it for me and I pay them back.)
Generally speaking, a woman's duty in the home is still three-fold: cook, clean, and (pro)create. Eli and I have spent ample time in many Indian homes and they tell us this themselves!
Okay, I'll stop. Of course, I'm talking about a general culture and not individual ideas about such things. I've met several educated, unmarried, confident Indian women who don't subscribe to the traditional arranged-marriage/family life. Also, not all men treat me poorly - many men actually are incredibly sweet and helpful, especially on the buses when I need to sit down. In fact, because of these men, I'm convinced that Jesus lives on the buses in Kolkata because I feel so loved almost every time I take the bus (not even joking :) ).
Today, actually, I was talking to a super nice Hindu man on one of the buses I took, and he asked me if I thought that India was the City of Joy (it's nickname). I thought about it, and truthfully replied something like, "I don't really think it's the City of Joy, but rather like the City of Compassion." That's totally how I feel. Despite my observations, despite my discomfort, despite the tragedy, I truly love Kolkata. I have family here, I have hope here, and Jesus is EVERYWHERE here!!
Dang it! I only got to two things! Tomorrow, we'll be posting something shorter, so thanks for reading, dear family. Please keep praying for us - we are always praying for you.
Haven't heard from you two in a while. So glad you are "back on the wagon" Keep em coming.
ReplyDeleteHi Heide,
ReplyDeleteIt always amazes me when you write your blog. Thanks for sharing your experience. Well the culture in India is so very different. Its not primitive like in Africa nor is it advanced like here in America. It is evolving and the thing about an evolving culture is that you get a group of people from all backgrounds. A typical example is the costliest house on this planet is a billion dollar house in Mumbai, a 100 miles away from there you will hear of 100s of farmer families committing suicide because of their economic situation. One thing for sure is there and that is the family bond and that keeps it a well knit community.