5.24, Panaji Goa
When we got to Panaji, we walked around to find a hotel. We got to one and tried to bargain with the price, after which the woman at the reception desk suggested we go into a back office and talk to the man. We then asked to see the room, which was quite large and air conditioned. After, we were escorted back to his office. He was clearly not occupied with anything prior to us coming to his office, which was littered with multiple half-drunk liquor bottles, including Jonnie Walker Black Label. He wore multiple large rings and talked with his hands together on the top of his desk in a slow measured voice about how many amenities he offered and how he was offering us a good price. We said we were going to think about it (i.e. check out other hotels) and he said “don’t think.” It was difficult to maintain our composure and not talk back to him or laugh at the mafia style type of interaction we were having. We ended up staying for one night paying our price and then leaving for a different hotel owned by a woman.
5.26, Candolim
We’re in a beach town called Panaji in Goa, but it’s difficult to swim. Often there are nearly naked men on the beach along with fully clothed women – I mean in full saris. As if a man might accidentally throw himself at a less-clothed woman. It’s such a low expectation that has violently been lived up to too many times.
Today we spent the afternoon watching some TV in the hotel in the air conditioning because the sun was too intense to be outside. The main thing I noticed was so many commercials about skin lightening creams. There were also several ads to clean pollution off your face.
Walking along the sidewalk, you can see cow prints in the sand.
5.27 (candolim, fort aguada, panaji, sleeper bus)
People we’ve talked to or asked for help finding things are either completely unhelpful or way more helpful than necessary. For example, some people will listen to the question and then just turn away and ignore you. On the other hand, today we asked a woman for directions to a fort. She told us it was up the road a few kilometers, then offered to take us “triple seated” on her motorcycle, and then offered to teach us how to drive her motorcycle.
5.28 (sleeper bus and Thane, temple at night)
Shruti’s dad told us about I.S.T., or Indian stretchable (not standard) time, where leaving at 5pm turns into solidly after 7, and a “15 minute walk” to the closest grocery store is often an undeterminable distance.
At “5,” we went with Uma, her husband and his mother to a temple, because it was the fourth night past the full moon. This means that if you bring your problems to the deity (can’t remember which one) they will be solved. It was also the shifting of Jupiter from one astrological sign to another. I learned that temples are often modeled after the 9 planets, including a small shrine for each one. I wondered how they’ve responded to the recent declassification of Pluto.
5.29 (train to Aurangabad)
Travelling allows you to see “normal” – not just your own, as reflected by expectations about how things “should be,” but also the things that pass as normal to those who inhabit the space. I like being able to have the curiosity of a child, and ask people about everyday things. However, sometimes asking about what things are or do is risky in that it might be rude to ask…and I might not be able to convey that I’m sorry for the transgression …but can you be?
We took a train to Aurangabad, the closest city to the Ellora caves. We sat next to a man who was taking what sounded like business calls, interrupted by smoke breaks. At one point, he bought a few bags of fried Indian snacks and a coke. After a while, after both Licia and I had eaten bananas, I opened a bag of chips, to which he said, “not good for health.” It was the only thing he said to us the entire time.
Later that night, in Aurangabad, we took a rickshaw to a himroo loom center where they make silk fabrics by hand. One loom we saw had a 6,000 thread count – woven by hand. On the way we saw a rickshaw with the words “shit happens” printed on the back.
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| Licia with family who wanted to take her picture. |
Often we are objects of interest. People find us curious to look at and want to take our pictures. Many people ask us where we’re from and want to shake our hands. A few younger adults have wanted to friend us on Facebook. Little kids stare at us curiously and sometimes their moms try and push them to say “hi” to us or shake our hands, generally the kids don't want to. Twelve year old boys on the street yell “hello” and wave. Most of the time I’ve found this amusing, but sometimes, like when I needed to sit down because I almost passed out from the heat, I find it a little off-putting, because people don’t really care what we’re doing and will interrupt anything to ask.
5.30 - Ellora
The Ellora caves were carved between the 5th and 7th century by three groups of monks – Jains, Buddhists, and Hindus. They’re very intricate and very well preserved. Like outdoor monasteries, they’re “one with nature” and have bats, monkeys, squirrels, birds, and other creatures in and around them. On the taxi ride there, you can see layers of buildings stretching back some 2000 years – from tombs, forts, and more recent tourist-centric constructions. It is easy to clearly feel history in the present.
5.31 night train back to Thane
One of the most striking things about India is the proximity of extreme poverty and luxury. From the air conditioned room that has a flat-screen TV in an apartment building, I can see people living in shacks cooking over fire. Potentially homeless and illiterate, often barefoot rickshaw drivers wait outside Western-inspired multi –level malls. Early in the morning or at nighttime we often pass people sleeping on the street or in the taxi they drive; it’s not clear if this is a temporary or permanent bed.
I’ve seen slums in Latin America – those outside Mexico City are vast and densely populated. However, what’s different about India is how close the rich and poor live. Another way to say this is that even if you’re feeling bad about your situation, there’s usually someone else in view that is in a worse situation.
6.1
We talked with Shruti about judging another culture. My main question is, is it possible to do it in a way that isn’t inherently anthropocentric and imperialistic? In other words, can I make any observations as a U.S.-er about a culture that doesn’t necessarily rely on my frame as coming from an imperialist country? Won’t all my judgments definitely be shaded with my expectations as based in my U.S. upbringing?
I’m not worried as much about political correctness, but then again, I don’t really know what is and is not politically correct in India. For some things, like using plastic, it’s easier to say that it’s messed up and we (all) need to find a solution. For things like whether or not things are sexist/oppressive to women, it gets more difficult. I’m wondering when this becomes a question of pedagogy of the oppressed.
6.2
Today we flew from BOM to DEL. Security lines are always gender segregated (men, women). Women are often patted down by another woman and usually within a cloth enclosed privacy box. The line to get in deviated between women who had bags to run through the X-ray scanner and those who didn’t. Those who didn’t proceeded directly to the pat down area, and the line was very long, so it didn’t make sense to put your bag through the scanner and then wait in a line we’d already waited in, but no one wanted to let us in. So the space up to the scanner/gate thing became completely filled with women, no semblance of a queue (line), and women behind me were yelling about not having a double queue. People were pushing from the back so multiple women were standing in the scanner machine, and then the guards started yelling. Meanwhile people are prodding me forward and being irritated with me “cutting” in the line I’ve waited in, and I’m wondering what is happening to my bag at the end of the X-ray machine. I started laughing a few minutes in at the absurdity.
6.3, exploring Delhi
We spent today exploring Delhi. We rode the Metro and I was struck at how nice it is. There are gender segregated cars – which is great because the men’s cars get packed, and the women’s cars have been often much more empty. The gender segregation is such that I’ve seen a mother and son get on the women’s car and the son stands on the other side of the divider. The cars are fully air conditioned, have LED indicators for the stops (where it’s been, where it’s going), and spaces for people who are “differently abled.”
Our first stop was the area around the India Gate (this time commemorating Indian soldiers, not the British colonization). We took an autorickshaw to a Tibetan market, but were promptly hungry. Unfortunately the only food options we could easily find were Pizza Hut and McDonalds. So we checked out the McDonalds, which turns out to only serve chicken and vegetarian options. Licia tried a McAloo Tikka burger. Sucked into the bastion of Western familiarity (and the novelty), I got chicken nuggets.
We also went to Purana Qila, a super old fort with a mosque built in 1541.
In the heat of the day we stopped in at the Imperial Hotel (that’s seriously the name) for high tea. For USD$15 you get tea, scones, jam and cream, desserts like eclairs, tea sandwiches, and an air conditioned atmosphere so vastly different from the street market we just arrived from.
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| Chandi Chowk |
After we went to another area of town, called Chandi chowk/Chawri Bazaar. It looked much different than the other parts of Delhi and India I’ve seen. The streets are loaded with bicycles and bike-rickshaws and are packed to the brim with people (mostly men) walking around. The power lines are hung low and dogs and cows roam freely. The 3-4 story buildings looked commercial on the bottom and residential on the top and the road was narrow.
6.4, train to Agra
On the train to Agra, we played cards while 5 men stared at us.
Stay tuned for more thoughts on Agra and Delhi before we leave for Bangkok, Thailand on Monday!
