Email from India Feb 25 02

February 25, 2002

Hi Everybody! Peter has been writing our journal emails with my input. This one is from me, with some of my thoughts and observations. Hope you find it interesting.

Here I am in a country so different, in every way from my own. Everyday I feel as though I am participating in a National Geographic special. My life has become one that I used to watch on TV at home.

First, the poverty, the noise, the crowds, the dirt, garbage and smells are all overwhelming. Visiting villages where the children, as young as 6, work long hours in the silk looms, are malnourished, underweight, below average height, have respiratory diseases, and little chance for a better life is difficult to see. The organization we are working with is doing a good job to get some of these children out of the looms. However, the poverty is so great that the task is huge. Families essentially rent their children to the loom owners for advances of money. They never can pay it back so they keep borrowing more and the children keep working it off. The loom owners keep paying since they need the labor and it is so cheap to employ children instead of adults. The children are also more pliable and can be kept working for longer hours with no breaks. I will never again complain about working too hard.

Walking in the streets of the town where we are living, or anywhere else, is a real chore. We are constantly accosted by beggars, touts, taxi drivers, children wanting to sell us pens, people wanting us to go shopping with them, etc. And that is only on the sidewalk, which is limited to, broken concrete or sand. The noise is deafening both inside and outside. We have noticed people shout all the time since it is impossible to be heard above the din of the traffic. Constant horn blowing everywhere. The air horns on the busses are the worst and they blow them continuously. On the back of every truck the words “blow horn” are printed and everyone pays attention. Peter and I are the only foreigners who take walks every evening and the whole town knows who we are, where we are, at any given time, and how many times we almost get hit by vehicles since the cars, trucks, busses, motorbikes and bicycles seem to go every which way, with not much sense of direction. At the end of everyday we feel we have accomplished something just getting back to the hotel safely. The people we are working with are always telling us to be careful and watch when we cross the streets.

We have just moved from room 208 to room 203 in the hotel. The reason for the move was that 208 was above the restaurant. Since all the dishes including cups are metal and they are washed outside below 208 the noise was terrible. The dishwashers throw them on the ground and then throw them from one large vat of soapy water to the next for rinsing and occasionally throw them at each other. Clattering all the time. The clanging is deafening and it goes on till midnight and starts again at 5 the next morning. 203 faces the same direction but overlooks the parking lot. Now all we have to contend with are the cars backing up and since every car plays music when it backs up we hear snippets of Jingle Bells, ABC’s, Santa Claus is Coming to Town and others we have not yet been able to identify. The first week we were here we stuffed cotton in our ears when we went to bed so we could sleep.

We have breakfast and dinner in the hotel restaurant, which is very good. Since the level of hygiene is not very high here we feel safer eating only in places we have been told are ok. In Thailand we ate from street vendors all the time and it was fine. Here we would not eat street food. At every meal we have the assistance of at least 2 supervisors, 3-4 waiters and 2-3 busboys. They gather around and try to help us order and eat. We have not had one private conversation at our meals yet. By the way, people here eat with their hands so Peter is following and enjoying it very much. I have convinced people to give me a spoon. I have told Peter he will have to give this up when we get home. This morning the restaurant manager wanted to know why I was only having coffee, he thought I was sick. I told him I was too fat and needed to eat less. He said, “No, no you are not fat only liberal”.

Every morning we ask to have the room cleaned. We have been told to stay in the room while it is being cleaned, since there is so much poverty things get stolen frequently. Whenever we ask they say, “Ok, 5 minutes” which could mean anything from immediately to several hours. Indian time is very different from American time. Things seem to move slower and no one is very concerned about when things happen. Meetings called for 9am often don’t start till 10:30. That seems to be all right with everyone but us. We are constantly nudging people to get things done. This is very hard for Peter since he can’t sit still for a minute and his level of patience (as many of you know) is very low. By the way he taught a computer class to a group of RIDE staff people last week and it was great. None of them had ever touched a computer and they were so excited and interested it made this whole trip worthwhile.

We are learning many things. For instance, we now know a lot more about Hinduism and social customs of the south Indian people. We learned last week that almost all marriages are arranged, very few are love marriages. One of the RIDE staffers got married a month ago. His family arranged the marriage. When I asked if he had a good wife he quickly said “yes” but then quietly said “maybe”. Meaning time will tell.

I am having a hard time getting used to people catering to us. Foreigners especially Americans carry a lot of prestige. Even if it is unwarranted. Wherever we go we have a driver who opens doors, closes doors, carries packages and waits, no matter how long. Wherever we eat there are people to help us. Even at the office where we eat lunch one of the young women makes sure to pull the chilies out of our food before we eat it. We are never allowed to carry anything. Someone is always there to assist. Clothes are washed and ironed for next to nothing. They may not always get clean since the water is so polluted but they are all pressed. It is done with an old iron heated with charcoal.

All of this said, you must understand that the people here are wonderful. They are kind, generous (even if they have very little) and helpful. We have been catered to, worried about and in general treated very well.

RIDE has started a number of women’s self help groups. These groups are made up of mothers of the child laborers. Most of these women have also worked in the looms and are illiterate. Many could not even sign their name and now they have been taught some basic skills. They also have been encouraged to start businesses of their own with small loans from the groups. Many now have their own looms, and don’t use child labor. Some have opened small stores and others have become tailors. Most important they have become educated about women’s rights and how important education is for their children.

I will end now since I have to save some things for later. I can only say this is a wonderful experience and the ability to make a difference, no matter how small, in the lives of these people particularly the children is extremely rewarding.

Hinda