A month or so

(confusion alert: this post was started before we left for the jungle...finished upon return. The tiger search was much more fun than my musings…info and pix to come)

Greetings all

Just sipping some fresh mint and honey tea from my silver-spoon...I mean silver tea cup (a loverly Christmas present from Frank) and waiting for the mobile dobi wallah to finish the ironing outside the front gate. First he builds a small fire to get the charcoal lit in the iron, lights his own beedi (little cigarette) and then when the coals are smoldering and the beedi done, he irons away on his cart! Not only are all our clothes ironed (including yoga pants and tops), they smell vaguely like scout camp.

All day, everyday, vendors of every sort (that work all day, everyday) bring their wares and services to our doorstep. Right now I'm really hoping the coconut guy comes through. He shouts what sounds like alay, alay, alay, alay and for 7 rupees he hacks open the top of a fresh coconut and plunks a straw in the hole...it is truly life giving juice. If he comes by soon, I'm gonna buy 4 and pop them in the fridge for later.

I can't help wonder what it will be like to come home after India. Not simply because so many things we buy or services we ask someone else to do are so cheap here...although the very low cost (even with any Westerner tax) is certainly a part of what makes it different than home...or because it is so easy to have someone else do things that we would normally do ourselves or make something (like say a new set of clothes or mattress) this morning and deliver it to our house tonight. Laundry, ironing, house cleaning, driving/navigation (until the recent scooter acquisition for around town jaunts) are all basically done by someone else. And while it makes a bit of life easy to just casually handoff basic chores...it doesn’t add up to an “easy” life for us or the folks we employ.

There is a level of tension that is palpable. For me the lack of substantive communication with Indians that don't speak English sucks because I want to ask questions and talk about issues (smiling and nodding some sort of assent to totally misunderstood questions can get old…I mean we must find out why there are so many freaking water faucets in our house!) and the knowledge that a road “mishap” (to use Indian newspaper parlance) could hurt Frank or someone we know because the traffic is so aggressive and insane, or the fact that women are treated like shadows by many men (if I didn’t forcefully introduce myself and enter a conversation most would address or talk only with Frank), or if I eat or drink something wrong I may get sick again…it all adds up to a pretty thrilling and stressful adventure. Luckily we have Ashtanga yoga to ease our worried and wearied bodies and minds…wink, wink to all you yogis.

All this tension for us and we come from (and for a few months can cobble together a similar facsimile in India with $$) such privilege with relative wealth, safety, working infrastructure, and functioning and efficient systems…compared to anyone here. To quote our landlady (who is a middleclass, Indian spitfire, and mild con-artist/entrepreneur, and a vocal booster of American lifestyle and critic of India’s failings) when asked if she herself had visited America “no, and I never want to…I don’t want to see how much better things could be”. Sunanda isn’t joking…our western love of efficiency is not in practice here and “living” is certainly more difficult for all Indians…and if you are poor and a woman doubly. But somehow with immense “imperfections” people do live (more than a billion people) and keep going and are really proud of their culture and country and are totally amazing.

I seriously believe that India changes visitors. It is such a dense and old and complicated fabric of life here. Of course in three months as basically “super” tourists we aren’t even gonna scratch the surface of one little neighborhood in one small city in the south of India but, incredibly, India is penetrating even us. And somehow it seems designed to do just that. Maybe it isn’t going to be able homogenize the world with exported products like America does…but if you take the time to come here, it slowly and happily infects you with anything you’re willing to take in. Yoga is the bug that got us here...curious to see what else we will leave with.

Love and blessings
Rebecca