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Published: October 8th 2006
"Super- Deluxe". This is the label that they have slapped onto our hotel room in Manali, India. Call it being spoiled, call it being American, but the term "Super Deluxe" conjured up in my mind something wonderful, something spacious, something unforgettable. Okay, one out of three aint bad- this place is at least unforgettable. A black pin-legged spider ran across my arm last night right before I had reached sleep. Spiders are my worst fear as I have had many close-to-death encounters with the creatures. I'm not sure if this spider posed a threat to my health, but it most certainly posed a threat to my sleeping habits. The toilet flushes on occasion and the water is a murky brown. There is a shower but it does not work. We resort to bathing with a bucket, genuine Indian style. Every couple of days a pretty sick smell resembling a dirty baby diaper, emanates from the room though we can't tell where it comes from and it usually leaves within a few hours.
The cable T.V. is overflowing with musical Bollywood films, none of which we really "get" without subtitles. The basic storyline seems to be a love story but the
woman has been promised to another man through an arranged marriage. During all of her festive bridal celebrations she is teary-eyed and lethargic- oh ya, there is a bunch of singing in fields with a chorus of dancers behind the lead characters in between the spoken drama. The picture for HBO sorta works, meaning that we can make out the general idea of what is going on behind the fuzz, VH1 has a picture but no sound, which leaves us with the ever-depressing and repetitively deceiving, CNN. We read a lot.
Every corner off our room has been overlooked by both vacuum and broom. The light has no cover. The speakers next to the bed don't work. Our favorite part of the experience though is the maroon and diamante bindis that woman have stuck around the bathroom mirror and bedside furniture. (Bindis are the "dots" that many Indian women wear on their foreheads.)
This hopefully has given you a better idea of what "Super Deluxe" means here in India. Can you imagine the first couple of places we stayed in the city...a faaaar cry from anything super OR deluxe!
Since arriving in India we have battled our
bowels, sweat up a storm, and lots of other unpleasant actions involving alliterative phrases. It has not been an easy couple of weeks. I think a lot of what westerners know about this country is the mystical. We hear about the beautiful bronze woman in tummy-bearing saris, the priests wrapped in orange or red or some other fiery-colored cloth, who sit atop a mountain imparting wisdom on any who ask. We know Taj Mahal's splendor and the religious sanctity of the Ganges. We have heard of India's poor, of their sick, but there is not the same imagery in this knowledge as there is with the exotic. I will tell you; everything in that image of spices and color and mysticism exists in India. You may have to search in the upper-class parties for the woman of unimaginable beauty, and you may have to pay a pretty penny for a wise man to impart his wisdom upon you, but it is here, somewhere. What is not difficult to discover in India is the poverty that abounds within its jam-packed borders, the poverty that overshadows all the mysticism.
We were anxious to get to Manali, a mountain town in the
Tally-me -banana!
Banana vendor amidst a monsoon in Jaipurnorth of India. We wanted some time to digest and discuss everything that was going on in our minds and hearts. We were meeting up with some friends of a friend and looked forward to a little company and a change in pace from Delhi's continuous blur of activity. When the bus pulled into the Manali terminal we stepped off and actually saw evergreen trees! Through the exhaust from the busses and the stench from the sewage, we could smell something reminiscent of nature. Okay, Manali was no Yellowstone, maybe not even Central Park, but it was something that at least made us remember that the sky is supposed to be blue and that "EverGREEN" trees are called that for good reason.
We met up with Durga, at the station. She is originally from Hyderabad, and her husband, Ernest, is from Amalapuram- both cities are in the south of India. It's interesting that many times when an Indian moves from one part of their country to another, they label themselves "Missionaries". I have known lots of people who move from place to place in the U.S.A., (say Griff and me for instance), we just call it "relocating". I think
Three's not a crowd on an Indian motorcycle!
This man gave us a lift in Jaipur.. you can see Mandy's ponytail in back! the difference may be relative- perhaps much like the branding of our hotel room. Anyone with a humanitarian job who uproots and chooses to live away from their extended family (all-important to the survival of many Indians; strength in numbers...) can tell themselves that they are living with a mission in mind, thus making them “missionaries”.
"That's cool." I think when Durga explains that they have been working here in poor villages for many years.” Wouldn’t it be weird if Americans thought of themselves as having a mission? What DO we think we are here for anyways..." I continued to dissect this terminology and train of thought every day since I met the "missionaries"; the concepts behind their lifestyle strike me as genuinely being what I might classify as "Super-Deluxe".
The thing is that I really hate the word "missionary". My dislike for the word can be blamed on several factors...1)the super friendly guys who knock on your door with their starched shiny shirts and want to share with you "something for all people from all beliefs"- a guy really said that to me once. 2) Teaching about California history to my students. "So, Mrs. Schutt, it sorta
seems like the missionaries that came to California like,
forced the Native Americans to believe in God. Isn't that sorta ...ummm...wrong?" Yes, it certainly appears that way doesn't it? 3) I'm pretty sure that Jesus wasn't a huge advocate for passing out tracks, giving a run-down of the "Five Spiritual Laws" (or are there only three...woops! forgive me if I am wrong there!), leading a person in a quick little prayer and then calling it a day. This has been, until recently, a quick sum-up of my encounters with many missionaries.
However being here, it is ever-so-clear that India is desperate for more people with a mission in mind. The country sorely needs to restructure its education system. The environmental situation here is dire- in our opinion, un-recoverable. The health care system is awful, child labor is still permitted, millions of people are homeless or live in tent cities. Clean water only comes in bottles which are far too costly for the locals to purchase. AIDS, leprosy, and Tuberculosis are as common as a cold. Yes, India certainly needs more people with a mission.
India's cycle of poverty has been greatly influenced by the Hindi concept of
Sweaty Hats
We went to a dinner that boasts a real Indian cultural experience. The waiter plunked these turbins on our heads... they had the sweat of everyone else sitting there soaked up on the inside- pretty stinkin' sick! reincarnation and "getting what you deserve". If you were a good person in your last life, you might be reincarnated into a wealthy person or a Brahman, if you were less-than-exemplary, you might come back as a fly or a cow or a beggar. You can see how this system is not very compatible with the concepts of compassion and helping the poor. Because India's religion is so strongly tied to its government, its progress as a humanitarian society has moved at a snail's pace. Though there are a few voices who advocate for human rights of all people, rich or poor, male or female, their causes are difficult to support as a nation.
Griff and I are deeply burdened by life here. We just cannot imagine a drastically- different India in the near future, or even in the distant future for that matter. The thought of an Indian transformation into anything close to a first world country, seems almost too complicated to conceptualize. We are however, beginning to understand India a little better. Thanks to meeting up with local people, showering them with questions and just hanging out in one place for a while, we have been able
to re-group and gain our train of thought.
We have found it terribly difficult to just be tourists here. There is so much to be done that our hands start to ache if they sit idle for too long. We have been working in a school here- one of the better schools in the area. I have been teaching a small group of third graders who need a little extra help, and Griff has been doing odd-jobs as well as working with three “needy” children who have had a history of behavior problems. The experience has been, for lack of a better word- “interesting”. I won’t go into detail on this topic, but would be happy to share our opinions and thoughts about it when we return home. The system here is just very, VERY different. In the government schools there are more than 100 students per class and the teachers are poorly trained. Oh the horror stories we have heard! It appears that India’s education system perpetuates poverty. Critical thinking is an unknown concept and all information is presented by using rote memory or call and response reading. It is torturous to observe! Hitting, kicking, pinching, punching, etc.
are all acceptable forms of punishment here and are commonly used by teachers to reprimand their students. If a child misbehaves they are often forced to grab onto their earlobes and pull them as they do squats for about a million years. This is really only just the beginning of the long list of unbelievable stories from inside India’s classrooms. It is all so astonishingly tragic.
We cannot allow these experiences to pass over us easily. We have been deeply moved and inspired by how we can contribute to this mass of chaos. Perhaps we will return one day to work here, perhaps we will raise money for projects back home, perhaps we don’t even know what our role is yet, but to become a non-participant in the betterment of India- this land that has the potential to
truly be "Super Deluxe" does not seem like an option anymore.
"You have to maintain a fine balance between Hope and Despair."- Rohinton Mistry from his book, "A Fine Balance" written about the dayly stuggle of life in India (Griff and I have grown to bitterly love this work one of our favorite pieces of literature. Anyone wanting to really Just Like Snowflakes, We Are All Different!
With Griff's massive help, I taught a lesson to the village children outside of Manali. the lesson was about how everyone was created differently and is special. understand this country more, must read this book!)
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kristina davis
non-member comment
transformed by turd
Well, the glamour quickly departed when the shit from an unknown source oozed through Griff's toes, and from that point I suppose you have been "missionaries" to India...but I am all for reinventing that word, too!!! So separatist, when aren't we all supposed to live with a mission? By the way, I am pretty sure there are 4 Spiritual Laws, although I imagine God may consider himself to be a bit bigger than that. Ha. The pictures in this one are spectacular, and I can't wait to see and hear more about India. Thank you disillusionment! I love you.