Rich/poor contrasts and Islam in Bangalore

This is an email I sent home about a week or so ago.

One day we visited both a slum and a western style shopping mall. The slums were quite
appalling in their poverty. The smell was sickening and almost immediately approaching
the slum area we had to avoid stepping in human feces. Garbage, a common sight in India,
was even more piled up in the slums. The slum streets were abuzz with all sorts of
activity- cooking, begging, wandering, and peddling, these people doing whatever it is
they do. I already admitted I have little idea what these people are up to all day. I
actually felt more at ease in the slums than on the streets in Bangalore elsewhere. The
people were more friendly and curious than in other areas. But I had the feeling that I
had more wealth than a whole city block of people here. The occupations that the people
in the slums have include sorting garbage. One man, if he was able to collect enough milk
packets, would earn 30 to 40 rupees a day, a little less than a dollar.

The mall area we went to afterwards, despite all the Indian people around, felt exactly
like a Western mall. I was shocked at how exactly it matched a typical American mall. The
stores and merchandise was, down to the stitch, Western. I reflected as I wandered around
that the people shopping at this mall were trying to emulate my lifestyle- that of a
young American with disposable income. A bit strange that this is an exalted lifestyle.
Seeing the people casually strolling about paying what essentially were American prices
for things illustrated how extreme the rich-poor divide is here, especially contrasted
with the slums. I thought the many security guards were a rather authoritarian touch. It
made me wonder if the shoppers here ever consider what the guards mean- they have to have
guards because the mall is threatened by masses of poor people.

After the venture into town we discussed how the mall and the slums require each other to
exist. They feed off and reinforce each other. The garbage from the mall likely ends up
in the slum, strewn on the streets or being sorted by a slum dweller. The staff at the
mall and the security guards were probably slum dwellers as well. And not everyone can be
as rich as the shoppers at the mall. Some people have to be poor so that the mall
shoppers can have the lifestyle they do. I thought this was an interesting example for
the economic distribution of earth. A common statistic states that it would take six
earths to support the global population if everyone had the living standard of Americans.
Since we do not have six earths, it is clear that there are huge inequities on this
planet.

This means that the living standards of the US could not exist without a large portion of
the globe suffering under poverty. So our technology and things we take for granted only
exist on the backs of the rest of the planet, with women and children working in
sweatshops and low grade factories to provide us with goods to consume. As standards of
living rise in the developing world and as Western media outlets pump Western values and
standards into homes around the world, people on earth are going to want the same
standards of living as Americans. But there is only one planet, not six. How is this
going to be settled? Could we all settle on a more modest life? Or will somebody always
have to be decadent to the point of causing global suffering?

Another amazing experience I had was a homestay over the weekend with a Muslim family.
They were quite comfortable in their means and built and operated the local mosque.
Harun, the older son, and Hamza, the younger one, were incredibly well versed in American
and global politics and we had many interesting discussions. It was interesting to live
with them because in the US I think we don?t get much exposure to Islam unless it is in
the context of terrorism. This was simply a normal, friendly family. We observed prayer
at the mosque and had a traditional fast breaking meal there as part of Ramadan. Muslims
fast from sunrise to sunset for a month
.
The stay was particularly interesting because I saw Islam blending with modernity. Hamza
was probably one of the kids I saw wandering about the mall. Hamza played the same video
games and watched the same movies as us. One day we went out to town with Hamza and a
friend of his. Hanging out in his friend?s room with posters of American bands on the
walls, playing guitar, and watching them play Counterstrike, I almost forgot I was in
India. But then they would go to the mosque five times a day to pray. It was a surreal
and amazing experience. The discussions we had on Islam were interesting as well. I got
the feeling that Harun was trying to defend the relative conservatism of Islam to us.

I asked him about women in Islam, as I know that is a big criticism of it in the West. I
was a bit hesitant to ask because I don?t want to ask loaded questions about something I
do not fully understand. But seeing no women at the mosque and knowing that the mother in
our house was waking up to prepare the first meal at about 3:30 in the morning, I thought
I had to ask. Harun said some things that were new to me- that the burqas were just part
of a standard of modesty across Islam- that men are required to dress modestly as well.
He also said it was about valuing women as people and not for their looks. He also talked
about preventing the comingling of the sexes and that in the West people have almost 5
partners throughout their life- he portrayed this as a horrible problem. It was
interesting but confirmed my suspicions of the conservatism of Islam towards women.

Homestay Weekend

What a weekend. I didn’t really know what to expect going to stay with an Indian family. It was certainly a stretching time. I do feel that I learned a lot, but I still don’t know how much of a “real” Indian experience I got. My family was very educated, Nimmi (the mother) worked for Greenpeace India, and the father, Deena, had been trained as a clergy, but now worked in other areas. They had two teenage boys (which was fortunate, as they possessed a perspective I was very interested to gain) one in ninth and the other in his first year of college. They also had a Muslim boy living with them, whose family situation was "not good." Apparently he was to act as sort of a maid, but came with no domestic skills to speak of.

Most of the time, I felt a bit uncomfortable. I think this mostly came from the language barriers. The whole family did speak English fluently, and indeed probably spoke in English more than half the time (and always while they were speaking to me). However, the half they did not speak in English often was the second half of phrases and even sentences, so I would just not understand what was going on. However, whatever language they used, I was interested to see that it was always peppered by the phrase “Oh Shit!” Every member of the family seemed to like to swear.

The first evening there, I accompanied the father and younger son to the hospital, as the boy had had some minor trouble with his ears and was going for a follow-up appointment. That was quite the experience. This hospital was one that tended to cater to the poor community, and to keep costs low, they had to make some cuts. In this case, those cuts were in maintenance. The building looked straight up dilapidated. However, they kept it pretty clean, as I was reminded as the blast of disinfected hit my nostrils as we walked in. Not the place I might choose to go, but they seemed to give pretty good and reasonably priced care. I had an interesting discussion on the fact that in the U.S., though our hospitals might look a little nicer, behind practically every one was a very rich person getting very much richer, and many poor couldn’t afford medical care of any kind.

On Sunday we went to St. Mark’s, an English speaking church, affiliated with the Church of South India (CSI). It was a beautiful building. Apparently, on the corner outside the church was a statue of the Mahatma, so it was the sight of many political protests. And, indeed, while we sat in the stuffy church (they had closed all the windows to try to muffle the sound) we could hear the chanting of angry voices.

After church, there was a family gathering at our house, and the place became a bustling center of activity. I learned (some of) the rules of cricket, and felt very odd, quiet, and out of place. It seemed that all of the extended family that was not present (and some that was) worked in the IT industry, and were all very well to do also. They put on a Bollywood movie (“Rock On”) that luckily had English translations, but they were horribly done, and some quite funny. Also, I was reminded of how long those movies are, as it took us well into the evening.

I get the sense that I was in a very well to do, westernized family. For the boys, the big hang out places were the mall and relatively posh coffee shops. Our conversations about Indian culture tended to focused on what was changing, which evidently is everything. At the same time, I sensed (and observed) a much stronger family focus than what I am accustomed to in the United States. I would say my family is above average in that department, but there still are many meals and events that are rather “optional” for everyone to be in attendance. Here, it was different. Everyone was at every meal, the boys went to church with us on Sunday morning, and I got the sense that the boys did what their parents asked them. Always.

The food was excellent. It seemed there was always someone making something in the kitchen, and we never had a meal with less than five different offerings of food. The first day I nearly ate myself sick.

I wonder if they will remember me a year from now. I felt rather helpless all weekend. But even in an observer role, it was an amazing experience to see how family works in this part of the world.

कृष्ण कृष्ण हरे हरे

If you were to ask any of us on this trip where we were, we could probably tell you right outside of Bangalore. That is true but not until yesterday when we brought a compass with us on our visit to town did we know where we were in comparison to everything. Being here our senses told us Bangalore was just north of us and being that it is almost always overcast as of yet in Kanartaka we didn’t know any better. This Monday we made a large tour of the city and this tour or third so far really made Bangalore big. We went to the temple of Krishna and chanted for what seemed 108 times. It was intimating. Bahh.. We got out of there and headed over to grab a quick lunch. Market place was open for us and al other 100,000 people there or something of that range. The market I rally don’t know how many people were there but it was a maze of bright colours, rugs, powders, food, overpriced everything. The scam of all scams and some sweets which I got ripped off on, but a box of sweets for 20 rupees is still not bad being that he tried to sell me a large box and charge me for all the stuff I didn’t want. But now I have some sweets. Ym yum , well not all were so good. I really want to go back to the market and bargain with people and just explore all the neat things. I’m sure it will happen. Sept. 8^th

Thoughts on our Visit to a Slum and the mall

On September 5^th we went into the a “slum” in Bangalore. The smell is hard to describe it almost makes you want to gag and wonder how people can live there. The closes smell I can think of is spoiled milk, rotting food and animal waste. One of the first things we saw was a man sorting trash he was getting the milk packets and if he got enough of them he would get a few rupees. The interesting thing about this , is the man was not sorting trash from the slums but from the rest of Bangalore. The trash of Bangalore is sent to the slums to be sorted. It makes you never want to throw away trash ever again.

There where people staring at us which is something we are slowly getting used to, children running around with no shoes and babies with no diapers. But the people for the most part where talking with their neighbors it seemed like a jovial community. One thing that got me is that people wanted us to shake their hands and a mother wanted me to shake her baby’s hand.

After the slums we went straight to a mall. I’ve never been in a mall as nice has the one we were in. It definitely was a different atmosphere. People didn’t stare at us or ask where we are from or ask us for money.

While I was riding up the escalader and looking at all the things you can buy. I thought about the people who we just left in the slums, how all these material good could maybe feed and clothe at least some of the people we just left. Do they know that maybe three miles away there are people buying their 5th pair of shoes or buying that water filter so they can have clean drinking water? What would they say? What are these shoppers thinking do they think that instead of buying something they may not need to instead use the money for someone who is of greater need.

Maybe in India the people of comfort ignore or don’t want to accept to know that there is another world only a few miles away from them. Or maybe they think that if it doesn’t affect them they why should they care. Why do the people in the slums not complain about how they are living or maybe they only have enough time to care about how they will live.

I think the last few days we got a shot on what we will be experiencing in the next three months

First three days in India

I know I’m physically here, but sometimes it feels like I am not actually in India. So far the experience still feels completely unreal. I definitely feel alien here. Even so far it has been a powerful, moving, and interesting experience, and we only just started the program officially today. Not only is the nation around me alien, but we are aliens to the Indians as well. Most Indians assume that any Westerners they see are missionaries and we attract stares everywhere we go. So I have the dual feeling of being a stranger in an alien place. Despite our eventual travels and studies of India, in four months what we see here will still be alien to us. David Selveraj, our faculty leader here, says that after his 52 years in India he still does not understand everything about his nation.

Being here provides some interesting insights. First of all, I am surrounded by the majority of the world. To think that we do not even understand a fraction of what the majority of the world does is humbling. I found myself wondering as we rode through the city- what are these people doing? Where are they going? What are they thinking and working on? What do their lives consist of? And I have no idea. We hear the numbers- 1 billion people live in India. Half of humankind lives in Asia. We know that us 300 million Americans are minorities, but knowing it and feeling it are completely different. Here I know what it feels like and it is a far more profound feeling than hearing the numbers. Being stared at on the teeming streets of an Indian city will make you feel like a minority in the world.

What is different about India, then? We have only been here three days, but I am still processing what I have seen. What is different includes the language, the food, the mannerisms, the philosophies, the politics, the people, the issues, the religions, the roads, the animals. Basically everything is completely different, down to the core of the civilization. Simultaneously I am trying to adjust to my internal clock being violently shifted twelve hours ahead. It is quite a disorienting time. We took two journeys through Bangalore so far. First was from the airport. I was dazed from being in a state of aerial limbo for the past day and a half and the journey was hard for me to process. But that rather calm highway journey was nothing compared to our trip into Bangalore two days later.

The streets of Bangalore are complete madness, an anarchic sea of motorcycles, cars, rickshaws, with only the most tenuous sense of order. The only thing uniting everyone is that they apparently really need to get somewhere, and fast. Each driver jockeys for position and approaches mere inches from other vehicles and pedestrians. The lane markers are only suggestions, with most drivers veering across lanes when they are free to speed by those in front. A horn is the most crucial tool. I think I could have casually conversed with the people next to me at stoplights due to our proximity, if I spoke the language. While Hindi is the national language, every state has its own completely different language. We wandered the packed streets for a bit and saw some basic sights around the city but even that limited tourism left me tired with a bit of a headache and wanting a shower.

Visthar is thankfully a respite for us- it is very quiet and small and already I think we feel at home. Hot water, electricity, and internet are rare or sporadic, but that is part of being in India. The campus holds the SJPD program and also houses girls that were rescued from temple prostitution. We will be learning and meeting with them more later but even just hearing their story and seeing them stroll about the campus is quite moving. They literally have nothing and have been treated like dirt from the day they were born but here they have been given a second chance and now they can be strong and carry themselves with dignity. The staff here is incredible, especially David, the head of Visthar. He is a brilliant thinker and what he has accomplished here is incredible. He spoke today of what people can do in the face of a “demonic system”, which could be any structure of oppression or injustice. In this case he was referencing the caste system, which seems permanently lodged into this culture and unchanging. He almost admitted that the caste system may be impossible to defeat. But still he said that he would “take a side, find the truth, and put his faith in those who are broken” because it was what he felt he had to do.

Today we exchanged the cash we will be using for the next months, and I exchanged 200 dollars. I reflected on what a meager amount that is, especially to sustain me and my material and travel needs for the next few months and how cheap almost everything is here. However, I was reminded that 2/3rds of India live on less than two dollars a day. 750 million people. I really feel also like a demanding American with wads of cash. David also reminded us not to be ashamed of where we came from, but being faced with this sort of random inequality- me on the side of privilege, the masses outside the window on the side of absolute poverty- it is hard for me to understand or justify that.

So this far I have had many important and moving experiences that I will remember forever and it is only the third or fourth day (if you count the day we spent comatose and jetlagged). I wondered initially if I was building up expectations that were too lofty, because I had heard about the life-changing effects of this program. But now I can see how fundamentally this program will shake and disturb us. But these cause a very fundamental examination of what is important to us all. Everything on the schedule seems incredible and I am getting anxious to get into the “meat” of the program. Tomorrow we are headed to a nearby village for the Festival of Ganesh, and then into Bangalore, where clay figurines of Ganesh are melted into the lake at the center of the city.

Arrival and Inauguration

Gathering from Seattle and Rapid City and Minot and New Orleans and Fargo and Detroit Lakes and Alexandria and Apple Valley and other places in between, we journeyed through Minneapolis, Chicago, Frankfurt, and Mumbai (Bombay) and finally arrived in Bangalore and our home at Visthar. After freshening up and resting just a little, we had a tour of the campus and lunch. Now we are further settling in and trying to establish our computer connections. Once we do, maybe a couple of students will share some first impressions of India.

On Sunday, we went to St. John’s Church for a Church of South India service with communion. Then David took us out for brunch. We got caught in the rain toward the end of our meal. Then we toured a few more sights of Bangalore and returned to Visthar where it rained so hard the power went out.

On Monday, we had our first introductory class about our expectations and the design of the program. Then we had our Inauguration Ceremony where we received bindis, shared speeches, sang songs, floated candles, and danced with the Bandhavi girls.