I have been away for a week. When I finally made my return to…well…home the suitcases of my temporary roommates’ clothing and knickknacks were packed up and the silence of solitude engulfed my nearly vacant apartment. So I once again have a space that is exclusively mine. This past week I shared a home with 80 others from all over India. A mix of both young(er) and old(er) with different backgrounds, languages, challenges, and outlooks- some called the slums of Mumbai home, others were sex workers, some belonged to tribal communities, while others had spent years in jail. These are all parts of their lives I am familiar with because their nametags list the NGOs they work with, but would otherwise never be able to decipher who is who. The smiles and laughter that rang through Kuba village this week will stay with me, even as I sit alone in a quite Ahmadabad apartment.
This was a yearly meeting of all the NGO participants, trained by Drishti, involved in creating community media- video and radio programming which addresses local needs and concerns. The purpose of this meeting was to give them a space to explore their creativity and to find a sense of identity through art and movement. Therefore the first two days were devoted to molding clay into shapes and structures- and then painting them. The last two days consisted of intensive theater exercise to challenge the use of our bodies and expressions. For many of the participants, they had never been given the opportunity and environment to explore art. I am sure some of them come from villages that produce crafts- but that too becomes a source of income- a chore. We gave them a space to express themselves -to explore what they can create. The objective of the 4-day conference was to challenge them to think far far outside the box upon their return by introducing them to different mediums of art.
Now. My limited Hindi and me. In a village. With 550 local villagers and 80 participants. From a pool of approx. 630 people about 20 could understand me (I think I am being VERY generous…).
I had some of the best moments and some of the hardest this week. It is difficult to come into another culture and language, but it is even more difficult to begin a new job. I want to feel like an equal, I want to contribute my ideas and skills- but I am limited by language. The meetings are all conducted in Hindi and I eagerly observe attempting, desperately, to pick up on body language and facial expressions- occasionally catching a Hindi word I am familiar with or an English word that gets inserted between thoughts. I have always hated reading poetry in translation and now I hate living my life in translation. But, no use in dwelling, so I move along flipping the pages of my “teach yourself Hindi in one month” book hoping that by the time I make it to chapter three my trip to the fruit store will become less painful.
Language aside, my ability to contribute is limited by something I might throw into the ambiguous abyss of cultural differences. When I think of a work conference I don’t envision 10 men crammed together in a room smaller than my bedroom sleeping on thin mattresses with stained bed sheets. I didn’t assume that 40 women would share 3 bathrooms and split into 2 bedrooms hardly big enough for 10. But they did- gladly. The only thing that anyone complained about was the food. The participants are so used to eating the same thing three times a day that a change to their daily diet was not welcome. I helped coordinate a 2-hour morning trek that departed at 6 am and culminated in a sunrise near the river atop a mountain. Girls wore heeled shoes with socks. The boys created a human chain and pulled each trekker (36 total) up a steep section of the mountain rather than encourage them to walk a few feet to an accessible trail. (I made my way up the trail and sat for nearly an hour anticipating the end of the human chain).
Dare I use that last line as a metaphor for my time here? I do things differently. I look for the fastest way to get things accomplished. I am willing to trek a little further into unknown terrains. Further more, I value my personal space a bit too much, I want to eat unknown foods, and I would never pack a heel as my only shoe.
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