Settling Into India

Poony is our Indian cook. She is nineteen and has been working at the voluenteer house since she was just fifteen years old. Her loud peels of high-pitched laughter and incessent chatter can usually be heard echoing up the staircase and around the house. There are only two men in the voluenteer house at the moment and whenever we are stuck outside, desperately ringing the bell and trying to get back in, it can be a sure bet that she is camped out in one of their rooms, giggling, flirting & laughing at the top of her voice. Me and Poony do have one thing in common however, we are both big Shakira fans & it is not uncommon to hear her comical rendition of 'Hips don't Lie' or 'Waka Waka' travelling up the stairs from the kitchen as she peels the spuds for our dinner. 'I just want to be sexy like Shakira' she tells me one day. Don't we all Poony............................don't we all!

As I make my way down the steps to the front door one afternoon for a trip to town, she is standing there waiting to let me out with her arms folded across her chest. I can't help but notice that she is eyeballing me up and down, her eyes deliberately lingering on the hem of my skirt, which hangs just below my knee. It's a handy light scarf skirt that I've had forever & comes with me on every trip because it is just so easy to wear & folds up really small in my bag. Her lips are pursed together as she taps her foot impatiently, still eyeing my skirt, as I sign myself out on the security register beside the front door.

'Is it OK'? 'I finally offer, cause she is clearly waiting for some kind of reaction from me. 'Hmmmm...........maybe not'. 'Really?'.....'This is too short'? (It's below my knee). 'Yes, the men will look at you, she says glancing down at the few inches of white mosquito savaged calf on display. 'Really?', they'll look at this?.............I'm so confused right now, I thought I was pretty conservatively dressed, I have my shoulders covered and even brought a pashmina along in case we hit any temples today. I wonder what she'd make of the little pink mini skirt that is currently occupying the bottom of my suitcase. 'Should I go and put leggings on?' I offer, I really don't want to go out if i'm going to be stared at any more than usual. 'Hmmm no, no, not this time, is Ok, you go now', with one quick shove I am out on the street and before I know it I'm on the wrong side of a locked door, feeling distinctly like a brazen, scarlet, hussy. Well I never. The other girls from the house who are waiting outside for me, are standing in a group chuckling. Despite what Bollywood movies would have you believe, with their scantily clad shimmying beauties in cleavage baring sparkly numbers, India is in fact an extremely conservative country, with the north (in particular the state of Rajasthan where I am living) being much more conservative than the south. You will see few if any women out on the streets of Jaipur after dark. As a woman how you are dressed will also go a long way towards how you are perceived, in particular if you are a Western woman, as unfortunately the stereotype still prevails among some that we are ....well, um, a little bit easy.

If you are planning on staying in India for any length of time it's well worth investing in some traditional clothing like the Salwar Kameez, which is like a long tunic style top that is usually worn over loose-fitting pajama-like pants or brightly coloured leggings. As we have to wear them for teaching in school I have already purchased a couple and not only are they really decorative and pretty but they also help you blend in a lot more and send out the right message that you are respectful of the local culture.

One of the things that really struck me when I first arrived in India was that you just don't see as many women out on the streets. While women are most certainly a very important part of society here, in general their role is quite traditional and very much tied to the home and to children. After marriage a woman will often be expected to go and live with the family of her husband and take on the role of caretaker for the whole family. Some women do work also and provide a second income for the family but this is more common in the bigger cities among educated Indians. In general most of the shops you enter, rickshaws you ride, waiters who serve you, your guides, cooks, drivers and porters will all be men. I've experienced situations such as going to the local train station to book a train ticket with another girl from the volunteer house where we were literally the only two women in the entire building out of a crowd of hundreds. On making email inquiries for a tour it is automatically assumed that I am a man, as I get the polite response.....'Thank you for your inquiry Mr Arlene' and it is virtually impossible for me to walk down the street without being stared at, hassled by rickshaw drivers, shopkeepers, passing cars or random men who expect to know where I am going and what I am doing and proceed to follow me as I stomp along the street like a crazy woman muttering to myself.....'feeeeeck off, will ya.........and mind your own business........Jeazus'!!

As a foreign woman in India you realise pretty quickly that you have to play by different rules and there is just no point in pretending otherwise. As much as I might like to think of myself as an independent woman of the world, it's a safe bet that's not how everyone else is going to perceive me. Once you get past the initial culture shock however and accept the way things are, you learn to adapt pretty quickly to your new surroundings and over the last few weeks I have honed my bargaining skills down to a fine art, discovered that the silent treatment is the best way to get rid of pesky touts, learned to keep my ass to the wall on buses & trains to avoid would-be gropers and in short learned to be patient, flexible and to let any stressful situations blow over my head. Even in the midst of the heat, poverty, cow-dung, craziness, peeing, power-cuts, spitting, dust, burning rubbish and harassment, I do find myself having little moments where I think to myself, this really is a unique experience and even the tough parts are what make it so special.

In general Indian people are extremely kind, warm and welcoming with a strong sense of community and family. For every annoying tout  trying to force you to buy scary looking puppets there is someone who is inviting you into their home to eat with their family, stopping you on the street for a friendly chat, offering you a tasty treat, thanking you for wearing their traditional clothing or making you feel involved and a part of their festivals and celebrations. While I no doubt experienced severe culture shock over my first few weeks in India, I know for sure that this is a really special time in my life and I feel really lucky to be here and I know that I will never forget my time spent in India.

Me outside a temple in Delhi, my sinful bod
covered in this sexy number!