My summer in one word?

Dynamic. Of course, that’s a total cop out. Basically a way of saying that there is no one word to describe my experiences. However it is entirely relevant. India is a massive country, and I spent time in ten different major cities, and two smaller villages. I spent three weeks doing a whirlwind tour of Northern India with my mother, 6 weeks interning for Ubuntu at Work at their rural workspaces, and one week vacationing on the shores of Goa. Not only did I see an array of places, but I had an array of experiences. 

While traveling with my mother, I often felt overwhelmed, trying to see and do too many things in too short of a time. There was great anticipation for each new city to which we ventured. My breath was taken away by the splendor of the Taj Mahal, and my heart disillusioned by the poverty of Kolkata streets. But most of all, it was an invaluable opportunity to see, to learn, to confront my own prejudices and privileges, and to build a deeper, more mature relationship with my mother. I heard a million and one stories of her reckless days, was inspired and consoled by her, and constantly realized that I have become just like her. 

While interning for Ubuntu, my emotions ranged from bored, when production was low, to motived and driven, when initiating new projects. There were many challenging aspects of village life, yet I gained unique perspectives. Much of what I saw and learned at the workspaces was reinforcing of that which I had studied or learned about only in theory. There were times I felt my efforts were futile, there were breakthroughs, and there were many moments of enlightenment and inspiration. Fortunately, all the interns had a good sense of humor, which allowed us to adapt to a different lifestyle, and find amusement in our own personal struggles. 

And Goa. Well that was just absurdly fun. Refreshing and relaxing, but also full of adventure. 

On my final bus ride from the rural village of Kodagahalli, back to Bangalore, I made a series of lists to summarize my experiences: my #thirdworldproblems, things I used to take for granted, and things I’ll miss. 

Disclaimer: The first two lists are in no way meant to be a series of complaints. Rather, they are personal acknowledgements of my realizations of my privileges and cultural biases. In reality, they were all things to which I adapted. I was actually laughing incessantly on the bus as I made these lists, highly amused as I reflected on my own struggles. 

#Thirdworldproblems

1. No clean clothes- can’t hang them up to dry, due to monsoon rains. 
2. Bus is stalled, a cow or a herd of goats chilling on the road.
3. Falling asleep, watching the spiders above you, or lizards skittering across the wall.
4. Cashier doesn’t have change, gives you candies instead.
5. Current? No current. Current- 6 o’clock. (“Current” refers to electricity. The power was more off than on in Kodagahalli. Often it was planned power outages due to a shortage, but regardless, the kids would always just make up some designated time to tell us it would return). 
6. Couldn’t sleep in. The cows outside my window were moo-ing like my brother singing along to his screamo.
7. Pedestrians watch out, elephants have the right of way. 
8. No such thing as inconspicuous. This white face is always being examined in this much more racially homogenous society. 

Things I took for granted, prior to this experience

Toilets.

Internet.

Electricity.

Personal Space.

Privacy.

Silverware.

Crosswalks.

Protein. 

Things I’ll Miss

1. The women of the Kodagahalli workspace. Latha’s sass. Kumary laughing uproariously and applauding every time I utilized my minimal Kannada vocabulary. Nila sticking her tongue out at me. Palavi’s constant dancing and leadership. Mahadevi’s requests that I dance. 
2. The children. Rahul knocking at all hours of the day. Israr’s quiet but stoic presence, and his attempts to “manage” the other children for us. Akshita’s brilliance and speedy english. Salman Khan’s mischievous smile. Bindu and Prianca constantly climbing on me. Sagar’s mad dancing skills. 
3. The staff and other interns. Harish rubbing his temples in concern. Kusum and Vibha’s constant support and inspiration. James’s facial expressions and reactions. Neelofer’s endless sweet tooth. Lily’s constant energy. Dave’s approachability and superb listening skills. 
4. FOOD. Masala dosa. Bugies. Chicken Tikka Masala. McSpicy. Even ana samber. 
5. The spices and rich flavors. 
6. Coffee comprised of 90% milk and sugar.
7. Gobi manchuri, samosas, and baby bananas off the street
8. End of meal fennel (no more edible additions to this list, I swear) 
9. Bucket showers (I feel great about how little water I use each time) 
10. Having everything I learn in school be relevant (I was constantly rattling off stats about everything from the role of women in development, to how many times you have to fold a sari in order for it to sufficiently filter out cholera bacteria)
11. Speaking sarcastically to the women and children in English, in order to vent my frustrations without actually offending anyone.
12. The fresh air blowing through your hair on a scooter or rickshaw.
13. Infusing gender equality values in response to the children's comments, such as “that’s a man’s work” or “Indian boys are strong” 
14. Zoning out on the bus, and just listening to jams while seeing a whole new world pass by.
15. No mobile, no texting. Freedom from constant connection.
16. The kids’ constant excitement, love, and attention.

And now... off to SRI LANKA!

Where are the women?

Throughout my time in India, I have constantly found myself thinking “where are the women?” Whether out on the streets, on the bus, in a restaurant, or at a market, women are mysteriously absent. Yet men are everywhere. Where are the women? Are they in their homes? Are they allowed to leave? Are they swamped with domestic responsibilities? Is it improper for them to be out? Is it unsafe?

After two months and twelve cities, it has remained a common phenomena. Walking the streets of Kolkata, I kept a running count. The first 2 minutes, I saw 18 men and 3 women. Even in Bangalore, often considered the face of “modern India,” men are everywhere. Around the happening MG road area, or in malls, the gender ratio is more even, yet for the most part, I find myself surrounded by Indian men. 

Meanwhile, the women of Kodagahalli, live in a patrilocal society, as is common throughout most of rural India. Women marry outside their villages and move to the home of their husbands, leaving them alone and vulnerable, without relatives or any network of support when they arrive.

Kumari giggling and Neelofer hard at work

Unfortunately, this further disempowers women. In the face of child marriage and dowries, gender inequities in education and economic opportunities, and an overarching patriarchal society, a woman is further weakened, as she is brought into a new village, a new household, where her husband and his family is established and in control. 

On my last day with Ubuntu at Work, I spent a lot of time reflecting, and often found myself just watching the women interact. They were laughing, shouting at each other, giggling, sharing lunch breaks, singing to the radio, and chatting casually as they worked. And these are women from different castes and religions, women brought to Kodagahalli by marriage (which the exception of a few younger, unmarried members). They’ve learned to work as a team- they delegate to each other and support one another, they discuss challenges and brainstorm solutions as one, they develop their own systematic divisions of labor each day, and rely on each other to complete the job. 

Saying goodbye to Kodagahalli 

Even on my final day, I still found myself inspired by these strong, resilient women, and impressed by the impact of Ubuntu at Work. Empowerment doesn’t merely come from acquiring skills or earning an income, but additionally from having a community of support and solidarity. 

Goa Goan Gone.. and the women of Kodagahalli learn the meaning of "urgency"

So I took a vacation. And fell in love. I may be moving to Goa permanently. 

James, Dave, and I spent a week in the beautiful city of Goa. Located on the west coast of India, Goa was originally a Portuguese colony, and is now a lush, tropical state with beaches and tourists galore. As it’s monsoon season, Goa was much quieter, yet the sporadic rains- devastating but fleeting- in no way detracted from the experience. 

Goan Beach Temple

Basically, we spent each day as follows:

1. Wake up.

2. Beers in bed. 

3. Breakfast.

4. Scootering around, getting lost, finding a new beach.

5. Frolicking/swimming. Me never leaving the water, until one of the boys dragged me out.

6. Lunch.

7. Repeat steps 4-5 several times.

8. Dinner. 

9. Goan night life. Which is actual nightlife, unlike that of most of India. 

We made friends from Germany and Australia. It was basically me and the bros all week. And it was basically heaven. Except for one little accident.

I blame it on the McDonough in me. We have that pedal-to-the-medal attitude. While riding the scooter (which is basically a motorcycle, not like the scooters 12 year old boys ride alongside skateboards), I had a tendency to be more fond of the throttle than the breaks. I had a bit of a spill. Went flying off the front of the bike. I was a bit sore, and felt as if I had stood on the rugby pitch while the entire men’s team attacked me solely from the right side of my body. Other than that, and an egg of a bump on my head, my injuries were primarily superficial. The right side of my body is pretty scraped up, but nothing serious. The only frustrating part, has been that after a week, my shoulder is still very tender. My range of motion is about cut in half, and the first couple of days, I kept having to ask the boys to help me in order to do basic tasks like remove a backpack or change a shirt. They were super helpful though, and were always more than willing to help me apply ointment and gauze. 

My shoulder. Currently, post sunburn, the injury is about three times that size, and a mess of scabs and peeling skin. 

As we returned Monday from Goa, we had a shortened week at the workspaces. 

Ubuntu Update

This week, the women of Kodagahalli learned the meaning of “urgency,” a term almost as foreign as “privacy” in rural Karnataka. The members of the Kodagahalli workspace are efficient, hard workers. However, village life often runs at a leisurely pace. While the women have developed an orderly system to screen print the bags, they are able to work flexible hours. Many women sew bags in their own homes, and the workday starts shortly after ten, so that they can prepare for the day, and see their children off to school and husbands off to work. In a traditional, patriarchal village, Ubuntu at Work offers many women an invaluable opportunity- to work reasonable and flexible hours that don’t contradict with their household duties, to be paid fair wages, and to be given unique skills and an outlet for using them to earn an income. 

This week we received an urgent order of 100 cotton bags. The style of bag was of a more complex design, and as the order came from a new customer, the screen printed logo was also new. While the fabric arrived in Kodagahalli on Wednesday morning, we needed them to cut the fabric in a new pattern with new dimensions, sew 100 bags in a style with which they were not familiar, make new screens and mix new paint, screen print all 100 bags, and iron them by Thursday afternoon, for the interns to take back to Bangalore. Usually, the women of Kodagahalli spend several days cutting the entire supply of fabric for all the villages where stitching and sewing occur. Then, they spend several days sewing and screen printing. Such a division of labor would not be possible with this order. 

And as it was the first order of its kind, just about every complication possible occurred.  

The fabric was cut on Wednesday afternoon, and 16 women were commissioned to stitch bags in their home that evening and the following morning. Thursday morning came, and the bags came in slowly- the first batch arriving shortly after 10, the last around 4. However, about half the bags were stitched improperly. The errors were not fundamental, but each bag took about 10 minutes to adjust. Fortunately, we have some seriously determined members. With Latha in the lead, several women sewed like maniacs to correct the bags, as others began screen printing the finished bags. 

And the screens. God forbid anything go right the first time. The printer was malfunctioning, and would not properly connect to any of the four laptops we hooked it up to. Eventually field worker Harish took a bus into the town of Bannur to print out the logos, which were needed to make the screens. 

Thursday was a classic hurry-up-and-wait kind of day. The screen printing members raced to finish the screens, but then found they only had 7 bags to print upon. As each new batch of bags rolled in, the women mobilized, rushing only to find themselves waiting once again for the next batch. 

I’m sure the next order will be seamless, as we worked out just about every kink possible on Thursday. When Vibha first told us her expectations and the deadline for the new order, I thought the idea was highly preposterous. I must say, I was thoroughly impressed with the speed and tenacity with which the members worked, and their unwavering dedication to Ubuntu at Work.