Lisbon, Nottingham, Race & Gender

I have about 100 drafts on this website. Yes, 100!  With some writing and some pictures.  So, often I have no time to go back and check.  But browsing through some drafts I found this one from 2011.  It did not even have a title but just took the first words in the post --Lisbon, Portugal and turned it into the title by default. Which caught my attention.  

I was there for a conference.  I remember this picture because a stranger who I talked to for an hour took it.  I remember it because I had lied and made up a few things about myself while talking to him.  The thing is when you travel as much as I have, people cannot locate you, and they cannot exactly place you.  For a long time, I did not know this.  But I learnt it over the years.  When I was called, a Mexican,  a Spanish,  a Siberian,  a Chinese,  a Nepali,  an Italian, an Australian (often in Fiji) and the best 'a half-breed'.  So much so that an Indian woman in Fiji, my first semester there, after asking me a few times where I was from, and me explaining that I grew up in India--finally asked me, "No, so what race are you?'.

Race is an interesting concept. I had none, until I left India.  We do not talk in terms of race. Indian is not a race. Its a culture. A civilisation.  But no race.  Why? Its one of the oldest surviving civilisations and also has experienced much more mixing of people than possibly anywhere else in the world (a geneticist who studies this told me).  So even in a country like the US and definitely in Europe, people of Euro origin have intermixed more among themselves than other races, and the same goes for other races there--afro origin, asian, etc. It might be changing slightly, but will take a long time to arrive at what is a country like India.  We have 'everything'.  People who look white and those who look oriental and those who look african and oh yes middle eastern with that peculiar nose.  

  For those who are interested in learning more can read in this new study  (Craniofacial reconstruction of the Indus Valley Civilization individuals found at 4500-year-old Rakhigarhi cemetery)to see what Indians 1000s of years ago looked like. You cannot really place them in any part of the world. They seem to have all kinds of features. 

So I have no race.  

We have intermingled for 1000s of years.  But it was in the US where this question became so very important.  Now after applying for jobs and grants around them world I have realised how important that question is mainly in the predominantly 'white nations'.  The questions on gets asked are obviously --gender (and presently they add questions on in-between genders, including non-binary), race, religion, disability etc.

Race--religion--why is that important?  At least when I was growing up, we were never asked that in India.  May be our names told it all. I will not be surprised if they start asking those questions, what with missionaries converting like crazy and people keeping their old names to get some benefits.  They can get benefits as christians as minorities and with their names they claim benefits of the backward classes.  It also allows them easy blending in a Hindu majority country.  Its cheating but many do it.  So may be now in India too we will start asking about religion on the questionnaires.  

But race?  We are all one race.  Even those with different skin colors.  In one family we can have different colors.  Interesting how in countries like Fiji and Botswana they almost called me white, where as most of my 'white' friends, especially the ones in north America  always mentioned 'how dark I was'.  Reminds me how Gandhi's son talked about being beaten up by blacks in South Africa for not being black enough and by whites for not being white. :)

Lisbon, Porgutal, 

So, in Lisbon, after the conference was over, I had about 20 hrs left and I decided to see the city.  Met this guy from Greece, who tried to guess where I was from and failed miserably. I do not remember what I told him.  I definitely am honest about being an Indian --but other things I let slide to give me privacy and a sense of security.  Those things include talking about length of my marriage and the number of my children.  I am not alone in this.  In my travels I have met many women, mostly white and asian, who talk about wearing a wedding ring to create a ring of security around them when travelling. Women have shared with me how they usually talk about their husband coming to visit in a day or so. 'We are travelling and will meet in the capital city in two days. We wanted to see different cities', they tell fellow male travellers. In this case I spun stories as well. It was fun and made me feel safe. 

Another experience when you are travelling happens when you are having a decent chat with someone and the guy usually says, 'Can I buy you a drink?'. I want to shake my head hard and say emphatically, 'No, absolutely not' who do you think I am?' But I usually make up stuff like, I have a bus to Portugal in 20 minutes, or I am leaving town tonight. I detest this way of buying someone's time. Coming from where I come from, girls from good families would never ever do this. And what strange way of buying someone's time.  We buy drinks and meals for our friends all the time, but we have known them a long time and that act is not 'buying' but a contribution towards an ongoing relationship.  Has meaning. 

A male friend said he never lied when he was travelling. 'Ah, the male privilege!!'  I am not a gender-studies person, nor do I believe in this crazy 'female independence' (another post is required on it--I believe in interdependence of the genders, males and females need each other).  But I do believe in biological advantage.  Well, one does not have to believe in it, it is.  

It just is.

A woman has years of fertility, men usually don't.  Women are more vulnerable during travel, men are not.  Not as much.  Men have more physical strength, women do not.  Physically, women are weaker.  Here is women's advantage: they get pregnant and they can choose not to share it with the man.  Walk away, abort the child without his permission or never tell him.  Ofcourse paternity tests today can help, but what if she aborts without the man knowing.  That is biological advantage. And as a researcher let me add 'Given all things constant' meaning exceptions exist and somethings can be altered--but there is such a thing as nature and our societies understood that.  And therefore most cultures placed importance on women taking care of themselves. Not provoking men or placing themselves in dangerous situations.  A friend and I debated recently over this (a real good friend)--that women should not be blamed for dressing the way they do, or putting themselves in harm's way if something bad happens to them.  My answer is what my older cousin shared with me.  When you know that you have splinters and glass spread all over the road outside of your house, it is stupid to want to put responsibility on the street cleaners and blame them if everything is not clean. And one cannot wait to leave the house.  Instead, the wise thing to do is to wear shoes.  Secure your feet.  And then help the cleaners clean, work with the community on weekends to clean it.  But keep wearing your shoes until yo know its completely safe!!

Today in this female independence environment women are told that the problem is always 'on the outside. and that we can and must teach men to be different/better.  Absolutely we can!

But we ALWAYS have.  That is why there was always a difference between men who were raised well and those who were not.  In India joint families were great for that reason. Men grew up with aunties and sisters and cousins and had to learn how to behave with women.  Sure there are some men who are not that good or caring.  But this image of men as animals especially in non-western cultures is definitely media generated.  I can say this from my experience. But we should never forget--never forget there is such a thing as biology and nature.  When we ignore that we create a schizophrenic society, as I see much in the west --with non western societies hopelessly following suit. Without any thought.  So in our present day societies women have become like men, taking all responsibility and doing much more.  Men on the other hand have not learnt to be like women.  They cannot.  And may be that also keeps a bit of sanity to this world (a detailed post on that will come later).

Nottingham, January, 2011

But what I do do is talk to children. All over the world. Grateful when their parents allow me to talk to them. I think we do not give them enough attention.  So I can say 'I love you' in about 13-16 languages.  Hindi, Urdu, English, Spanish, Swedish, German, Russian, Magyar (Hungarian), Setswana, Punjabi, Bengali, Gujarati, French, Greek, Chinese, Polish (and now I am forgetting some)---I love to say that to children around the world.  It is so beautiful to see their expressions --a delight when they feel someone is giving them attention in their language. This above picture was with a little tourist in Nottingham, where I had gone for  some official work. 

Nottingham, January, 2011

So yes, I have no race--I am just a human being and often not even focussed on being a woman, but I have a heart and I speak the language of children....good enough?

Smiling Salesman

First published on November 28, 2012--Here it is again. I remember this incident like it was yesterday.  Remember his face like I saw him this morning.  And the joy that spread his face when I took this picture still makes me all happy and want to be the nicest person in the world!!  Thank you sir!! We should all smile, we never know how it is helping someone!!

We were headed to Tak Tseng: The Tiger's Nest.  One of the oldest Monasteries in Bhutan.  

It was nearly 3000 ft above the sea level.  From ground to the monastery was about three hour gruesome climb.  As is always the case, there were vendors selling goods at the base.  

I have learnt to identify things that we must spend money on and those that we should leave alone.  This year my goal was to 'not shop'.  Mostly, I have realized, I spend just as much time in looking for gift as in enjoying my break.  This break was meant to take me deep within.  So my goal also was to not buy gifts for anyone, to not talk to many people, just be alone, not email, no phone calls, no connection with the world.  All of it proved difficult, but useful in the long run. But I reduced my email checking considerably, only spoke with 2-3 ultra important people who would not let me alone, during this time. I had left my check-in bag at Singapore and carried only a hand-luggage to Bhutan.  Half of which was filled with paper and books to read.

I did not realize not buying gifts would prove so difficult.  I would look at things, and then come back a dozen time to buy them and at least two times I would return with the good in my hand.  But at least ten times I resisted the urge to buy.  It was a great exercise for someone like me, who spent many hours on looking for gifts. Among other things, this time, a resolution and carrying only my hand luggage proved helpful.

I have also realized that souvenirs often cost more (in time and effort) than what they mean to who you present them to.  So, this year....I knew whatever I bought would either be for other people, or something I could not do without.

There was one such a thing they were selling at the base.

A walking stick.  

I have climbed a few of these 'high up' places, so I know how important a stick is.  As I started looking at them, about three people rushed with their sticks towards me.  The sticks were very nicely shaved and sanded.  Very smooth, and very strong.  

'Buy from me, from me' all three said. Two women and one man. 

I have to admit though that the vendors were not as aggressive as I have seen in other countries.

Then this woman came up to me and said, 'buy from me, the other two are together, I am alone.'

That one line made the decision for me.  This man tried smiling, cajoling, but I leaned toward the woman who had said, 'buy it from me, I am alone.'

The man, with a child-like round face, responded with a pout.  I felt really bad for turning his smiling face to a pout.

'I am sorry, I am sorry' I told him, 'Ok promise I will try and buy something from you when I return.'

But he would not look at me.  My last image of him, before I headed towards the monastery was that of a face that was 'sad, forlorn, disappointmented.'

I felt bad, but needed only one stick.  And I had to be ruthless to stick to my 'no frivolous buying policy.'

I met some of the most interesting people on my first hike up to Tak Tseng (I went twice).  I will write about those people in another post.  

On my return, I saw him sitting with his goods.  The moment he saw me, he tried not smiling, but ah a pure heart-- how could a pure heart not smile?

'See I told you, I will buy something from you, but not until you smile for me.'

'Yes, yes, smile for me, a bigger one...'  

He gave me an ear to ear smile....and that is when my camera went, 'Click'.

Fiji, Frangipani & Fraility

Looks like this will be published on Friday the 13th--Oh well....

Frangipanis exist in India as well but I noticed them in Fiji.  It is hard to describe how exquisite they are.  How lovely they smell and how short they live.  Unlike roses or sunflowers or carnations or other flowers that we bring into our house to bring a bit of color and fragrance and freshness, frangipanis do not fit into a vase. Well, they have no stalk.  Often people bring them in and leave them floating in a bowl.  

The garland is made of pink and white frangipani---I found a young girl playing with it at a festive ceremony...

The above two pictures are stolen from the net.  Don't they make a great conversational piece.  This is so common in Fiji, especially at hotels. I used to do it in my house as well, sometimes..

Not only does it brighten the room and bring color and fragrance in, it creates a piece of art, a conversational piece.  

Flame tree, my apartment compound in Fiji, right across from the Government building, very close to the Parliament. Flame tree, which we had in our house in Delhi, produces truly red, flame like trees.  These blossoms have no fragrance but man, are they stunning to look at. I remember looking down at them from my neighbours second story building, and looked like it was a gigantic bouquet.  Like Frangipani though, they are frail, they bring such beauty but last a very short time.  And like frangipani they cannot be brought to a vase.  You have to let them be, and they last longer, and are happier....

This one is stolen from the net.  But see, this is how flame trees can look like bouquets.  Oh to have grown up with this in your front yard?  Yes, that's me!!

Such beauty --such daintiness--and such frailty--Frangipanis wither in a short time.  The fragrance they provide is truly strong and gives you a whiff of heaven.  That is what heaven  must smell like, perfumed with this gentle divine smell that relaxes you.  But frangipani is also frail.  Dainty and frail.  It crushes easily.  Simple, sensitive, and sensual.

I often thought of Fiji that way. I still remember my first day in the country.  I stepped out of the airport and it was ganska värm--quite warm -- I stared at the coconut trees --a very small population rushing about its work. A few cars, compared to scores of them that we saw in Pennsylvania streets.  A gentility washed over me. 

For the first week I stayed on a high.  Another country, another life, now it all starts. 

A week later, I woke up in the middle of the night and asked myself, 'What in the world have you done'.  Library was not that good, I was away from any sort of intellectual, academic community.  I mean there were professors but that conversation about 'ideas and new theories in the field' was missing. Things were substandard and while in general I love developing countries and their gregariousness, it felt like professional suicide. In addition, I was away from everything I knew.  

There was some political turmoil already in the air.  Less than a year later there were talks of a coup.  And then two months later, there was one. It happened silently.  No violence this time. At least no visible one.

A year later I had a burglary in my house.  That left me disoriented for the rest of the stay in Fiji.  A sense of frailty --a sense of fear came back in.  It affected my career, my writing and my living--my attitude towards life.  And a bag of fear was created around my body.   But I kept moving.

I have often thought about my life in Fiji. It was beautiful, perfumed with frangipanis and made me feel like an almost celebrity.  People knew me and would call out my name, even though I did not know who they were. I did not remember them, but they remembered me.  Often so many students who had never taken classes with me would address me by my name.

Having taught in Fiji for a few semesters I earned myself a sabbatical, which I never used.  Till this day I regret it.  But at the time I was almost going to leave academia. Go back to school, do a masters in immersive media and simply move on to another related but highly creative field ---

For reasons that I cannot list here--there are too many--I could not. The one major reason was ofcourse money.  I did have plans though. I was going to return to my MA that I had admission to in Canada, in about two years. Its been 9 years and I am still here.

Money and confusion affected the decisions regarding career. Now at this stage, mid career, it all feels too silly. 

While there are days that I regret continuing with academia, even though I love teaching, and my students nominated me for the best teacher award and I have been given other awards etc. --I also know I have learnt a lot. I could certainly do without all that I have learnt.  That is true, including the language which will be useless to me outside of the country and certainly outside of Scandinavia (Don't get me wrong I love the place and the people here).  Had I gone towards my dream, I would have felt a sense of certainty inside.  And a sense that I had a purpose. Something that having a community, family and ongoing-long term friendships can provide, but nothing compares to having your own family and hopefully in what you consider your own country.

As much as I love that I have so many cultures within me, I also mourn the mono culture that provided a GPS for life.  That GPS saved time --over fretting---why, when, where, what...all those existential questions that linger---

Whenever I get tired and do not want to think--there is a silence that I seek from all the clutter of my mind.  Often times, I have used Fiji has a metaphor for life.  Its Fiji, you know, a place people know to be lovely, like paradise. I am told that souls from beyond want to come to our world, to experience love, life, pain and pleasure.  It all can be performed like perfumed frangipanis.....but it is all still very frail.  I often think of the way Spielberg uses human bodies to show fragility of life. One shot and life goes out of a stunning --beautiful woman whose face could have launched a 1000 ships.

So yes, life's like that. A bit of Fiji, with much of frangipani, precariously hanging on the uncertainty and frailty that is our existence---