Bindis and Skin Cream

I recognize that there are many paths to truth, every religion is valid in its attempts to explain the world. I do not hold the monopoly on truth, nor should I pretend to.  My way of life, my opinions, my interpretation of the world are only one person's opinions out of 7+ billion.

Religion is malleable. It molds itself so that it conforms to the expectations of the majority.  For example, in India numerous, colorful statues of saints and biblical figures adorn churches in a manner similar to the gods and goddesses which adorn Hindu temples.

Religion is not only more chameleon in nature, but also more visible in India than in the United States. On the wall behind the concierge of our hotel hung a glow-in-the-dark rosary.  In our houseboat in the backwaters of Kerala hung a picture of Jesus.  Every auto rickshaw I pass has a bumper sticker with pictures of Hindu gods and goddesses, or words like "Baby Jesus" and "Masha Allah"

For better or worse religion in America remains below a layer of consumerism and materialism, a shopaholics two favorite -isms. As the West becomes more secular, India clings to its many religions. In India I see temples and churches and mosques on every block and devotees of each religion display their faiths with turbans, hijabs, bindis, and crosses.

Atheism and the distinctly western "spiritual but not religious" movement seem to play a minimal role in India. However, secularism has its place in India, particularly in the foundation of its government.  It's government is secular in that it allows for the freedom and expression of all religious beliefs, but does not espouse one particular religion in its constitution.  Parties like the Hindu nationalist BJP stand to challenge India's long-standing tradition of religious tolerance.


On another note, when speaking with MCC students a few weeks ago I mentioned that I attracted a lot of stares. A student replied "It's because they think your skin is so beautiful!"  I wasn't sure how to reply. She herself had coffee colored skin, somewhere in between North India light and South India dark.  I told her that her skin was just as beautiful and that in the U.S. I would go outside in the sun just to get tan.  She laughed at the thought.

The face creams and soaps at drug stores are called things like "Fair and Lovely" and claim to lighten skin.
A surprisingly large number of advertisements - from bus companies to clothing stores - feature white babies.
In a forum with college students from Lady Doak College in Madurai, the female students explained that the darker a woman is than her husband, the more expensive her dowry.

This kind of advertising reminds me of the white-centric US products and commercials that promoted light skin over dark skin until the 1960s.  For all I know these advertising techniques may be present in the U.S.  I have just been too oblivious to notice.

What I Take for Granted

Trash collects on the side of the road.  Only the cows dare to touch it as they root through piles of putrid garbage with dainty precision.  On rainy days, the streets stream with warm, grey water and the garbage gloms together in slippery globs.  On dry days, the mud dries only to be blown about by passing autos and the trash globs dry into little moguls over which I must walk.  MCC's campus is forested and lovely.  However, on its many walking paths water bottles, candy wrappers, and rubber flip flops  smother the natural vegetation.  (On an odd side note, I only ever see one flip flop.  Never two.)  While I was on a run last week, a sweet yet putrid odor wafted over the cricket pitch.  At my inquisitive glance, my friend explained it was garbage, specifically plastic, burning.  Beside my thoughts that the airborne carcinogens were negating the healthful effects of my run, I worried about the environmental consequences of the 1.3 billion people of India burning their plastic waste.  Who would step up and enforce environmentally sustainable recycling programs in order to keep India's roads and water ways free of trash?

(A repeat from an earlier post) Om nom.

The power goes out at least two times per day.  The first time it did go out, I was sitting in class and the lecturer was speaking.  Without warning the lights and the projector shut off and the speakers made a feeble popping noise.  The lecturer, a resident professor at MCC, continued right on with her lecture as we all looked around in confusion.  During our next two lectures, the power went out a total of six times.  At MCC and in Chennai, the power supply is constant compared to the power outages the rest of the country faces.  Power cuts in rural areas can last for eight hours or more per day.  This is assuming that the village had access to electricity in the first place.

On a personal observation, not about the energy crisis in India, I depend entirely on electricity and the internet.  How do I get to this restaurant in Chennai?  I Google map it.  How is my family doing?  I email them.  The moment the power goes out, my first instinct is to sit around, twiddling my thumbs until it turns back on.  Even my leisure reading I keep on my iPad, a luxury made useless with the long-term loss of electricity.

This is the longest time I have ever been out of the country. My Egypt trip ended after 3 1/2 weeks.  To date I've spent 4 weeks and 3 days in India.  This program is far more laid back than my adventures in Egypt.  Rather than squeeze out every opportunity, I have almost four months to leisurely explore and plan my own travel occasionally.

I take advantage of my privileges in the West.  I can wear what I want (within reason).  I can go where I want by myself.  I can marry whom I want.  Women in the west do have gains to make with regards to equality.  However, our issues pale in comparison to those facing women in India.  The modern Indian woman lives in an unabashedly patriarchal society suffering from rising rates of rape, dowry debts, honor killings, and sati.  This picture of India is entirely worst-case-scenario and overly pessimistic.  More women today have access to higher education and to job opportunities outside the home.  The law does give women rights on paper, however, the government does not and can not enforce it.  For example, the law states daughters deserve a share of their fathers' property equal to their brothers' share.  Rarely, however, does a woman inherit half, if any, of her father's property.

Indian husbands often define their wives.  Widows are largely worthless in society.  Every day I pass old women begging on the side of the street.  Their hair tangled, feet without shoes, they sell small limes and fragile flower garlands to passerbys.  I can only help but wonder if their families have abandoned them to live the last of their lives on the streets alone.

Last weekend we hopped on a plane from Chennai to Mumbai to the old Portuguese state of Goa.  Over the course of the trip we traveled by ferry, taxi, auto-rickshaw, and foot.  Lots of foot.  A little more than I bargained for, but with good company.  We spent a total of three sun-soaked days wandering around Goa's winding streets.  On either side of us, colorful buildings, centuries old, weathered the crush of the ocean waves with an air of distinction - the peeling plaster only added character to the cobbled and tree-lined side streets. The beautiful architecture was a breath of fresh air from Chennai's monotonous progression of high rises.

Language notes:

• Don't say "oh" for zero.  For example, 2013 is not two-"oh"-one-three.  If you want to get your message across, say two-zero-one-three.
• A "scale" in India is a "ruler" in America.  "Bring me a pencil and a scale" need not merit a search for an Indian "weighing machine."  Language is fascinating.