As I was visiting with a friend the other day, I realized how much I have learned in just the short time that we have been in India. Their culture is so different than ours that at times, it seems like we are in another world--and I guess that we really are. A world so different from what we know. As I thought about updating the blog since we finally have internet for more than just a few minutes a day (the wireless got fixed here), I thought I would just take a few minutes and randomly share some of the things that we have learned here that to those in southern India, is normal living. This might seem a little scattered, but I thought it might be interesting reading for you. Mingled with my thoughts, I will also just share random pictures of some of the things that we see each day.
As we were driving home the other day, we saw some people gathered out in front of a house with a couple of men playing some homemade drums. In the middle of the gathering, their were ashes still smoldering. Woman had scarves over the tops of their heads and their heads were bowed. Because we had been told previously about this type of thing happening, we recognized what was going on. That was a funeral in progress. They don't have morticians here, at least in the part of India that we are in. They don't have cemetarys either. So, when a person passes on--they put their body on the ground and friends and family gather while they cremate them. Often, it will happen just along side of the road--instead of someone's front yard. We have actually passed a few of these "funerals." A couple of times, we have realized what was going on because of the women having scarves draped over their heads and were obviously crying. Then we see the smoldering ashes. Other times, we randomly see a spot of the side of the road with just ashes there. That might seem so outlandish at first, but then think about it. What would you do if there was no mortician or place to bury them. I would hate the thought of what would feast on my loved one if I just put them in the ground. It's not likely that most even have a shovel to significantly dig deep enough for them to be at a safe depth. When you consider all of that, I can see why they do what they do--I just don't know that I could do it.
Another random thing I have thought about is trash. If our communities had no type of trash disposal or even trash cans--what would our streets look like? Probably just like what their streets look like here in India. They probably don't think of burning their trash because to them, fire is a means to cook food--not to get rid of trash. As a result, you see it everywhere. When I think of it like that, it helps me to think of them in a new light. Not that they don't care and just throw their trash on the ground, they usually just don't have a place to put it.
One food that my kids will probably never crave at home is red rice. It is served here at Rising Star as the main portion of the meal, daily for lunch and dinner. Occasionally, they get other rice--but between here and the other countries that we have travelled to, I think my kids are about "riced out." One of the little boys here was visiting with Ally. He asked her if she had ever had pizza and she said yes. Did she like it--"yes." Next, he asked her about ice cream and again, she said--"yes." What about hot dogs? "Well, my kids like them but I don't really like them." Then he asked, "Which do you like better--India or America?" She answered that she likes both because they have such kind and humble people here. He pondered and then said, "Yes, we have nice people here--but the food is yucky!" She just laughed. 
Last weekend, we went to a little french settled city named Pondicherry. While we were there, we had a few minutes to just walk around and do a little shopping. We were in several small groups, but I guess that Charlotte had to go potty and so Ally spent her shopping time going from place to place to find a bathroom. As she asked at several different establishments, she was pointed out to the street time and time again. Of course, Charlotte wouldn't go there--so the search continued. I wouldn't either! I guess that as they turned the corner, they almost stepped in something and you can guess what it was. The smell was horrible. Charlotte ended up throwing up and later, Sam came around that same corner and started dry heaving as well. Okay, so I guess the Smiths have sensative stomachs but I think I would have done the same! That's what you get with no public bathrooms.
Another lesson we have been clearly taught: You eat with your right hand and wipe your boomski with your left! Don't get that one wrong! Who needs silverware?
Oh--a funny story. We were in Pondicherry and our drivers were eating with us at a restaurant. One of them walked over to our coordinator--that they are not close enough to do this to--and said, "I am so sorry." Then we cut a piece of her food and took a bite! Then he didn't say anything else and walked back to his seat. That was so odd....
Note: Sharing a shower or a toilet with a gecko isn't so bad.
Last week, I had heard of the term, "kitchen burnings," but didn't know what it meant. So, we were visiting with our coordinators here and they told us that a "kitchen burning," happens when a man is unhappy with his wife. He simply sets her on fire in the kitchen and says it was an accident. That way, he can get rid of his wife and no one does anything about it. Thank heavens for law enforcement in the states!
That topic brings me to another. Women here are definitely the lesser of the sexes. There is no equal rights here--not even remotely close. If a wife answers the door and it is a man to visit the husband, the wife should immediately leave the room. Girls don't go to college because they don't need to. Many don't get all the way through school. One of the girls here at the school told Jocelynn that she probably will never get married because "she has a voice and boys don't like that." From what I understand, it is pretty common for husbands to beat their wives and it is accepted as a normal part of marriage. I would hate to think of what all transpires in these homes. Even at church, there wasn't anything that suggested there was any type of abuse but it was obvious that the men ruled the house. So, I imagine that even though the gospel has softened or clarified how men should treat their wives, there is still a long ways to go. One sister was talking about her baby that was crying through the night and her husband got mad because he doesn't like to be woke up in the middle of the night. "He gets very angry if that happens," she said. My response would be, "then get up and help calm the baby!" It is just a different world.
I know that every family does things different, but I was raised that there wasn't his work or her work--there was just work to be done. Doug and I have raised our children the same. Here, it is just a whole different approach. Many times, you will drive down the road and see the women working as laborers. I don't claim to know exactly how it all works but it sure seems strange to me.
Another incident happened at the school the other day. Kennedy, who is a volunteer here, was playing the hand-slap game with one of the high school boys. Doug was just watching. I guess that when the boy would slap her hand--he would quickly reach up and slap at her face. It got to the point that she was telling him to stop but he was a little too into it. Doug didn't like that. So, he stepped over and asked if he could play. So, they started playing and he recipricated what the boy had been doing to Kennedy. They ended up in a little wrestling match on the grass. Totally playfully. Doug ended up wrestling him down and pinning his face to the grass. He wanted to be let up. Doug told him that he would let him up when he promised that he wouldn't hit girls anymore. The boy wouldn't. So, Doug just kept him pinned as the boy struggled to be let free. That went on for a little bit and then finally, the boy relented and yelled, "OKAY, I won't hit girls anymore." A whole different world.
I have already shared a lot of information on how people with leprosy are treated. It still just amazes me. One day, you can have a totally normal life and be respected and loved in your community and the next--no one will speak to you or treat you like a piece of trash off the street. There "used to be" a cast system literally in place here, where there was different levels of society on a scale, say of 1-5. The elite might be the king (or maybe a cow???) and the bottom of the scale was a person with leprosy. They are called the untouchables. As you walk around, you see people with different lines or dots on their forehead, some of those are indicative of where they are in the cast system. I guess it was outlawed about 5 years ago, but most people still live by it.
I could go on and on with stories of things that we have learned here or seen. It is just amazing to how different our lives are. It is interesting to me, too, because the experiences that we are having are so culturally different that each day we learn so much. I think because of that, one week can really seem like one month. I don't know if that makes sense, but that is how it seems to me.
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