Not comforting….

I still haven’t mastered the art of walking in/crossing the street gracefully here. But this is not comforting to wake up and read:

(from the Hindu)

Some pictures from a houseboat trip in Kollam

Kollam=next district up from TRV. Houseboat=traditional home of many fisherfolk

Note the fishing nets (Cheenvala, Chinese Fishing Nets).

Autorickshaws and haggling over 50 cents

Depending on the types of interactions I’ve had all day, I either feel that everyone here is out to rob/screw me, or is trying to just make an honest living.

For example, I’m sometimes overcharged 30 rupees for an autorickshaw ride of under 4 kilometers. I never know when and how much to haggle, and when I should let the 50 cents go (50 cents, Sapna, that’s it!).

On the one hand, the overcharging frequently occurs, and I remind myself I can buy two oilee wadas (deep fried onion balls in batter) or a bus ride the same distance for under 5 rupees.

On the other hand, $ and an American passport make me a privileged visitor.

I wish someone had told me the following before I got here:

1. Rickshaw drivers are technically supposed to turn on the meter when driving you around in TRV proper. TRV proper, however, is something like 2 square km (I exaggerate, but suffice it to say it’s small).

2. At night, expect to pay the meter + half that amount –sometimes drivers will ask for a return fare since they may not be able to find a fare back (or so they say).

3. Haggling and bargaining is normal…unfortunately. If you’re obviously an outsider, be expected to be quoted higher prices.

4. There’s a small waiting/rest charge that accrues at lights and if the driver stops for directions.

5. Tip by rounding up to the nearest 5 (or however generous you are feeling). Some people here only give 2-3 rupees extra, and sometimes, I give nothing extra if I know I’ve been overcharged.

The best thing is to have in mind how much the distance you’re going might cost, to up your bargaining power. Also, it helps to be Malayalee (and a good Malayalam speaker, so no help for me!).

There’s a great and funny passage about caste and being a driver in India in a book I’m currently reading called the White Tiger (by Aravind Adiga). It does a much better and funnier job of summarizing everything I want to convey in this post. I’d quote it, but I’m listening to the book on tape, and I admit I’m avoiding dictation since that is an activity I frequently have to to in my Malayalam class….

Language update

If you want to know the truth, I’ve hit a low in my Malayalam studies. I’ve mentioned before that Malayalam is a hard language to learn –but what really hit it home was my inability to read Kerala in Malayalam last week. Kerala, the birthplace of my parents. Kerala, the place whose language I’ve come to study. Kerala, the most commonly written word I see around here.

In trying to show-off my newly acquired Malayalam skills (or non-skills, as I sometimes think), I tried to read the title of an important document in front of an important person I was interviewing for my research on organic farming (this was also an attempt to convince him to give me the Malayalam version of the document in addition to the English one). Instead of reading “Kerala,” I read “Kola.”

In my defense, the three letters that spell “Ko” are very similar to the three that spell “Kera.” In fact, the third character is merely flipped around.

In any case, I felt like a fool when I realized this mistake on my own, a few hours later! If only Malayalam — the language of my family, heritage, and PhD research — could come to me more easily!

(Luckily, or unluckily for me, I’ve been told that such dismal feelings are common in any language immersion program, particularly around the half-way point. I’m looking forward to my midterm break this week.)

Kathakali

I finally had the chance to see a Kathakali performance here in TRV at Vailoppilli Samskrithi Bhavan, a Kerala cultural center.

Kathakali is considered a traditional form of theater, where stories are told mostly with specific gestures (many made by muscles I didn’t realize moved so much).  Yet, these gestures are often what one might consider subtle –as a result, sitting through a six hour+ performance can be tiring for some.  Apparently there are some Kathakali performances that are acted solely through eye movements.  The costumes are amazing, and take three hours to put on (actors usually do the majority of their own makeup):

I saw a performance that enacted the courtship of Bhima (on the left) and Panchali (right).  But don’t be fooled by Panchali’s makeup –I’ve been told that Kathakali is usually not (if ever)* performed by women.

*Someone I met yesterday refuted this statement. Apparently more women are becoming involved in Kathakali these days.

Varkala and Kovalam

I can’t decide whether visiting Kerala beaches during the monsoon is a good decision or not. I know most people would advise avoiding them during this time of year (muddy and rough waters, rain, lots of closed restaurants and resorts), but I found the dearth of tourists and hawkers to be very calming. The only thing I can really complain about is how high some of the prices on these beaches are.

Erm, also, what I do find disturbing is hearing of these “package tours” of India –where tourists come for a “real India experience” but spend most of their times in resorts on Kerala beaches or boats just outside the beaches. Varkala and Kovalam (two beaches close to TRV) are beautiful places, but I’d hardly consider them representative of Kerala.

They are beautiful, though:

Mewing kitty

I stupidly befriended an orphaned, not-even-weaned kitty. My host family is amused/slightly annoyed. I’m filled with sadness knowing that I have to stop showing this cat affection, despite its lonely and desperate mews, so that it can possibly learn to fend for itself. (People don’t usually keep cats or any animals in the house here.) I’m torn between feeling guilty for having pet it (after rescuing it from a closed shed), and giving it a few moments of attention and affection in its probably-short life, versus feeling angry at myself for allowing this cat to think I was its friend, thereby allowing it die a slow, painful death of waiting for people to come attend it.

I’m being a bit melodramatic, but as week 3 of my time in India ends, I have to admit I am being weighed down by much of the hardships (human and non-human) I see around me.

“Taking Drinks” in Kerala

Yesterday, my host grandma asked me if I “take drinks.” After a few moments of confusion (I had originally thought she was asking me if I wanted water, although I should not have been surprised with her real interest, given the frequency I am asked this question), I realized she wanted to know if I drank alcohol. Apparently, on TV shows and films here, Americans are frequently portrayed as the alcoholic, party-going types. She admitted no one drank in her house, and I was stumped as to how to respond diplomatically and truthfully.

Drinking is pretty taboo here, especially if you’re female. Men can get away with it, although it’s looked down upon –so much so that the majority of places where alcohol is served are almost pitch black, with no windows or heavy curtains that block out all light. Ladies and families are refused entry (neither would probably feel comfortable in those places, either).

Where women can drink are in 3 star or higher places, like the Taj Hotel, frequented by Westerners and wealthy Indians, a space where rickshaw drivers aren’t even allowed in, even to turn around their rickshaws after dropping off passengers.

I feel conflicted about such places in India, but I admit that last Friday afternoon at the Taj Hotel with friends, I felt more overwhelmingly annoyed about the double standards among men and women here…and the Taj is a nice indulgence….

Just turned in my first fellowship application

Now hopefully I can concentrate on memorizing the Malayalam alphabet? (Although I admit doing my own PhD research has been fun –I’ve been meeting a lot of people who have lots to say about organic farming here.)

Learning the Malayalam alphabet is hard

Even with the slight advantage of understanding simple conversation, I’m finding learning and memorizing the Malayalam alphabet to be quite challenging. There are 15 vowels, symbols for the vowels, 30 consonants, half consonants, double consonants, and clusters to memorize. Many of the sounds don’t even exist in English. I admit I am a little overwhelmed with how much studying I need to do, on top of my regular research.