Guess-tures (The (Mis)communication Blog)

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I have to admit, I have been in India for over two months, and I still feel like I am floundering at times when it comes to "common" courtesy. I mean, obviously there are certain rules of politeness that apply to all peoples, but I have often found myself reacting negatively to something which is completely acceptable in India, or doing something that we would find acceptable in America but is absolutely wrong in India.

Of course I knew that there would be differences in polite proximity, and differences in how queues are handled (I cannot count how many people have budged me in line because I left two feet of space between myself and the person ahead of me). But there were also things that I did not expect: being followed by the hotel owners in Hampi (see "Humming in Hampi" if you have no idea what I'm talking about), different head gestures, removing (or not removing) shoes, bargaining, and different exclamations, to name a few.

For those of you who will be interacting with me my first couple of weeks back from India, be warned: I have picked up new mannerisms. One of these is what I am terming the "okay gesture." It can be very confusing to someone who does not know this gesture exists, because it most closely resembles a head-shake, but is used at times when Americans typically would nod or not do anything. It often accompanies the word "okay," and basically shows neutrality toward the subject at hand. It was explained to me on my first day by Cathy, a 12th grader, when she replied to a request with, "Okay" and the okay gesture, and I responded, "So, not okay? You're giving me mixed messages." I have since been working to re-wire my gut response when I see the okay gesture (No, although this student scowls when he does the okay gesture, he is not disgreeing... Although this staff member sounds angry, the okay gesture means she is actually showing assent...). For instance, if a student asks me if they can be excused to go to the toilet, I'll say, "Yes, you may," but use the okay gesture to accompany it because I'm not THAT adamant that they go use the toilet. On the flip side, when I ask my students if they understand something, they may respond with the okay gesture to assure me that they think they grasp the concepts, but that that revelation is not overly exciting.

When it comes to the question of whether or not to remove one's shoes, I am still in the dark. As a tourist, the general rule of thumb is: take them off if you see other shoes at the door. Of course, that doesn't always work. For Diwali, I went to a saree-distribution ceremony (in which all of the maintenance staff received gifts from The George Foundation), and I decided to remove my shoes because I saw many pairs of shoes at the door. But when I got inside, Ms. Beena immediately called out in horror, "Lynn! Don't come in your bare feet!" and I had to scamper outside to get my shoes back on before taking my seat with Lizzy and Peter. Apparently all of those shoes belonged to the maintenance staff, and everyone else there kept their shoes on. But, in general, that hasn't been a problem elsewhere. In Hampi especially, it was accepted that one removes one's shoes at the door of any shop or restaurant (as long as the restaurant did not have a dirt floor). But there were also places that surprised me, like in Hyderabad. Peter and I had to take our shoes off to go into a particular museum gallery of prints, and then again when we entered a room with an Egyptian mummy. We speculated that the latter had to do with the dead remains, but the only explanation we could think of for the first gallery was that the room contained several Quarans.

Bargaining is something that always feels uncomfortable for me. I've gotten better at it, especially with rickshaw drivers, but it really goes against the grain of my upbringing. Especially when I am bargaining for a handicraft from the artisan him- or herself, I feel like I am insulting their time and effort. In general, though, they seem to be content once a deal is struck. The only time I have seen an artisan blatantly refuse to bargain below a certain price was with a painter in Hampi. And, to be perfectly honest, we had seen the detailwork and time he put into each piece, and if I had put that much time into something, I would also refuse a low offer--whether or not it was the off-season. But before now, I never understood the power of walking away. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but this tool alone has saved me from many outrageously overpriced rickshaw rides. I like to imagine that I'll be able to use this skill when I make my next big purchase at home. (Car salesmen in 10 years, watch out!)

One of the other things I have had to get used to are different exclamations. Only now are these beginning to rub off on me, as I only hear them when someone is frustrated or distressed (which is happening more now that term exams are approaching). The most common exclamation is a drawn out, "I-o!" (pronounced "aye-OH"). I was shocked when I first heard this because it is so similar to some of the original exclamations used in Medea. For those of you who do not know, I directed Medea last spring with the Meiningens Student Theatre Group, and the translation we used included many of the original exclamations (so, instead of the Nurse crying the melodramatic "Woe!" to the heavens, she cries "Yoh!"). In rehearsal, the actors worked hard to instill emotion into such unfamiliar phrases, and it never occurred to me that something similar was used in contemporary times. I'm trying to incorporate it into my speech, because it seems to fill that gap that Americans only fill with sighing or huffing, but it still comes out rather clunkily--much to my student's amusement, I'm sure. I may not pick this one up fully, but I appreciate its expressiveness.

The long and short of it, I suppose, is that although I sometimes struggle to communicate clearly, I am always learning!

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Comments

[Stephanie and Andras]

You certainly had no difficulty communicating clearly here - great blog! Always interesting to read about the nuances of life else-where - gestures, manners of speech, customs - that you can only get exposure to over the long-run. Thanks for sharing.