Thursday, January 18, 2007

 

Blogged down

Here we are on the beach in Goa, trying to do some vanilla flavoured R&R by the sea, before heading up for the journey home which starts January 26th from New Delhi, via Dubai and Zurich, and ends up at home January 30/31st. Goa is not like India. It's a different place, an expensive Guatemala or perhaps a Jamaica without the music. I have avoided getting excited about inequities or bizarre prices, because it's not good for my health or Zaman and Bashu's enjoyment, but it can be aggravating. A 2 km ride on an autorickshaw, bargained down from Rs 100 is Rs 65. In Delhi, supposedly expensive, a 20 kms ride is Rs 100 in a real taxi, and Rs 75 in an autorickshaw. Kian and Mehdi are in Sri Lanka, and claim it is totally laid back and completely different. We have met a great American Quaker homeschooling family, dedicated and working for peace in the world. We had many common experiences in India, and so it was good not to feel alone. Also, at errol.ca, you can see the blog of a Canadian man, of Indian origin, but born and brought up in Edmonton, wherein he copes with his experience of India.


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India has been difficult for me this time around. I have tried to fall in love again, but it didn't happen. I don't suppose it ever happens, with countries or with people, when we "try". I felt obliged to try, because I was in love with it before, and because it is the place of my emotional roots. That place of my childhood lives in my heart now as an emotional abstraction, an imaginary number, such as the square root of negative one.
India is racing towards something, I know not what. Various claims to superpowerdom, economic booms, world class competitive edges, all fall flat and sound like so much hype orchestrated by a few, for a few. The benefits of such growth are largely for a few, living it up in posh flats in city centres, and five star resorts in Goa and other beaches. The cost of such growth is borne by every poor child for the next 50 years, in the form of mind boggling air, water and earth pollution, and staggering poverty. India's rich history of architecture, religion, intellect, music, art, mathematics, spirituality, multiculturalism, all mean nothing, as they are eclipsed by the one main system of belief that money is God. Money is the one most important item of worship. This is of course true everywhere, but only India has temples, mosques and altars every 20 meters, adulating everything from Christ (in Goa) to Shiva, Kali, Islam and so many more. Only India has the fantastically profound and explicit philosophy of transcending materialism. Philosophically, theoretically. Not in practice.

The Taj Mahal lays like a humongous breathtaking jewel, in a city of unbelievable dirt, pollution, chaos, and open sewers. I would trade all the monuments and buildings of India, all the gold and jewels of India, transport them away, in exchange for an ecologically sustainable economy where every human being had enough food, shelter, education and protection from abuse: verbal, physical, emotional, mental, and sexual abuse. An India where there is breathable air, recycling, clean water and land enough to grow pure food for everyone, locally.
The pollution that I have been objecting to stridently in my postings, is a metaphor for the incredible neglect that I have seen human beings have for one another here. If we cannot respect each other, there is little chance that we can respect our earth. While there is a huge amount of love and attachment to children in families, I have seen them by in large be treated with disrespect: hit gratuitously, yelled at, pushed aside, laughed at, scorned, in the community by strangers, but also within families by parents and grandparents. The archaic education systems condemns them to days of rote learning and horrendous fear-mongering by teachers ready to physically punish with a ruler and ridicule the child in front of everyone. This is terrorism.



From www.photoryan.com/pages/essays/dalits/dalits_image06.html

The humiliation and trauma are not consciously inflicted, but that is the result. It is just the way things are. No one seems to think that there is a discrepancy between loving your child and ignoring their psychic pain. And so it is with animals, spouses, and the earth, all treated with equal amounts of insensitivity. As many of my Indian friends have said, it is a disconnect that happens when you are thrust unceremoniously from village to city, in search of wage work, robbed of your land by a feudal mafioso that rapes and tortures you if you object. This is all compounded by living under colonialism for hundreds of years: the Moghuls, the British, and now globalization; self esteem is so low it's hard to measure.

Who's got time to do anything but survive? I get that it is a priority to make it through each day for the vast majority of people here.

This is not about comparing India with Canada. I can list what ails Canada easily. This is about my experience here. There is no race for first place, or last place.
My India is a big wounded, bleeding family with open sores. It hurts. It really hurts. It hurts so much I want to run away to wallow in my own brand of soma: Life in Canada.
Yes, there is "resilience" amongst my people. Yes, there is tenacity, Yes, there are thousands of dedicated intelligent people working to change things in India. Yes, there is hope. Some hope.
I just hope that the big change comes before too many people, animals and the environment have suffered unnecessarily and die horrible deaths.
KaliYuga can't finish soon enough for me. Come on, the new age. Come on, the big change. Come now. My door is open, and I will gladly be your handmaid, your coolie.

Comments:
Hi Anita,

SUshile and I have really enjoyed reading both yours and the kids' perspectives on your journey. I look so forward to seeing you again and speaking with you about several of your experiences - some which perfectly echoed Sush's personal thoughts on returning to India. Have a safe trip home.
 
my dear Anita,
I was looking through emails from last years Mishra tour as we prepare for this years tour and I ended up here. I am in tears, I have just read your latest posting. I really resonate with your words, Anita, even as I sit here in the Kootenays amoung piles of snow as high as my roof.

It is the dead of winter and the days are dark indeed. It is like my rose coloured glasses are off and I am seeing a daily state of affairs that are overwhelming. I am preparing a media literacy workshop for schools here as part of a audio/video series that a group of us are presenting. And so I have thought it necessary to delve into what is really out there.

You posting sums it up. And to hear you say this about your India, a place where so many of us have placed our romantic ideals.

I am really touched Anita to hear your thoughts and feelings. I will be reading all your blogs - you have a beautiful,loving, human heart felt connection in your writing. Even though it opens me to tears, I know that it expands my understanding of humanity, all aspects of it. and this includes me as well.
safe travels Anita,
love
felicity
 
Hey Anita,
Greetings from Zanzibar Africa! I read your closing thoughts on India and I have to admit you leave me feeling a little in awe as you have a deep-seated desire to help (perhaps growing up there provided you with better sensitivity). Which is easily juxtaposed with my desire to “cut and run” (As George B*** would say) from India. I admit to having the same feelings... as I experienced the reek of desperation that traveling through India provided. The problems seem so deep and overwhelming, as the world’s largest bureaucracy seems to choke innovation, as there are so many rules that seem to exist for no reason (or perhaps to encourage bribery?) and innovation that does exist scares the hell out of me (does the one Lak car really make sense for India as a whole?). Then there is the perceived scarcity that (I’m told this is primarily in northern India, and the south is much less… difficult) that cases people to behave like everything will disappear, and that there isn’t enough of anything. Who knows, maybe they are right?
I can’t judge. I’m not there, I’m not a local, I have foreigners eyes, and beliefs and I’m still struggling to reconcile my feeling with my Canadian belief system. I’m pleased that I had the experience, as India taught me more about myself than I ever cared to know. I am richer for the experience.
Keep in touch,
E
 
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