Sunday, January 29, 2012

In Punjab!

Hello!

I'm currently in Amritsar with my friend Maya. We took a very long train ride in from Delhi and got into the city around 12:00 AM last night. Today we saw the Golden Temple and a memorial to the Indians killed in the 1919 massacre. I've taken lots of pictures and will post them later.We're going to Chandighar tomorrow (the capital of Punjab.)

Just letting you all know that I'm doing well and that my travels are going smoothly.

Erica

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

I Knew Minnesota Winters Would Pay Off


 So I’ve been out of communication for a while; but be assured that I’m okay. I was in Joshimath from December 7th through the 19th. They were only twelve days, but they were really days that were very trying and informative. I don’t mean that I actually was able to do a ton of research, but rather that I got a very different perspective of Joshimath and the mountains.

I cam to Joshimath while Sarita, my interpreter, was still in Dehradun recovering from surgery. So, I knew that I was coming in without an interpreter. At first, I really didn’t feel that this would be that big of a problem, because I felt more comfortable with the area and my language skills. I did not however, know how bad the weather would be when I got settled into Joshimath.

The day after I got back it began to snow. It really wasn’t much snow by Northeast standards, but it was enough to cut off power for two days. In India two days without electricity means that there is no heat for two days. Normally, this is not an issue, but it definitely very difficult and a little scary up in the mountains. Also, there was more snow at higher elevations and that meant that I would have difficulties traveling there, which is exactly where I needed to go for my research.

At the time, I did not check to see what the actual temperature was. But I now have investigated the situation and it was about 20 degrees Farenheit at the highest and around 7 degrees during the night. I kept telling myself that it was exactly at freezing; I don’t know how I tricked myself into thinking that. It was part of my huge push to keep myself warm without heat during this weather. I put on under armor, fleece pants, smartwool socks under fleece socks, three sweaters, a fleece and a down vest. Oh, and a hat and gloves as well. I tried spending a lot of time in the sun and walking during the daytime. At night it was very difficult to stay warm. I roasted potatoes and put them in my pockets and over my socks to try to keep my hands and feet warm. They were fairly successful.

The family that I stayed with seemed relatively unperturbed with the change of events. While they complained about it, they were not as anxious as I was. They also didn’t bundle up nearly as much as I did. Aunty was still wearing sandals without socks even in the weather. They would always comment on how cold it was and I know that they can afford more clothing, so I’m not sure what their dressing logic was. They must have superior cold genetics to me. That or their nerves have all been permanently damaged from an early childhood spent in these conditions.

I did try going to the field once during this time, but it was largely a bust, as I knew it would be. My heart really wasn’t into the research and it was my first time going into the field by myself. So, I felt much more nervous about talking to people than I normally would have been. I went down the mountain to where there was no snow. I had already been in this area and people are very nice and friendly. I was surprised how well I was able to communicate in Hindi, but I didn’t really do my research to the best of my abilities. I was pretty worn out.

The next day, I decided that I should at least try to find another interpreter. I walked down to the Government Hospital, hoping that one of the female doctors might know of a health-conscience woman in the community. There is one female doctor who I like a lot at the Joshimath Hospital. I met with her when I initially began my research. She runs the free women’s clinic and was encouraged me to ask about different symptoms than what I had initially written in my survey. This was not the same doctor. Instead, it was the other female doctor, who I believe probably was placed at Joshimath because she could not get another job. I’d met her previously and I had thought that she was cold and uninterested in patients. Now I know that she is disinterested in everyone.

I first entered the hospital and explained (in Hindi) that I wanted to talk to the “lady doctor” about my research. An Asha (community health worker) took me to the doctor’s room and I explained my work to her (in Hindi.) Then I explained to the doctor that I needed a new assistant for my research (in Hindi.) She then told me that it was impossible because none of the local women speak English and I wouldn’t be able to understand them and they wouldn’t be able to understand me. At first I was taken aback, because I had just spoken to her in Hindi. I tried to explain that my survey is bilingual, so that I really just need someone to translate from Hindi to Garhwali. Once again, she gave me the same explanation. I interrupted her during her second speech, which sounded like something out of an Indian Tennessee Williams’ play, and explained about how well things had worked out with Sarita. She then said, “Oh, I can’t tell any of them what to do or else they will rise against me.” The Asha that I had met did seem very threatening, what with her friendly manners and interest in my work. Therefore, I assured the doctor that I did not want someone from the hospital, but just someone from the community. Then she launched into another speech about how she just goes from the hospital to her room, so she doesn’t know the community. Before she could begin complaining about the weather, I left.

As I walked away from this conversation, it began snowing very hard and I had a 30-minute walk back up the mountain. I was trying not to cry, because I was very frustrated. After reflecting on why I was so upset, I realized that I felt like I was the enemy of this doctor, when really we should be on the same team. I have no idea why she wanted to shoot me down, when she of all people should encourage my research. It’s hard for me to blame women who do not go to the hospital when some of the doctors are so unreceptive. There’s no suing or exposing a negligent doctor in rural India. So, a physcian can be unhelpful or uncaring and there will never be any repercussions.

That day it did not snow as much and we were able to keep electricity. The next few days were a blur of trying to get up to higher elevations. I did manage to get up to Lata, which is where the picture of me and all the rural women was taken. I did a group interview with them about medicinal plants, which was pretty helpful. The next day, I did about four interviews in the slightly lower town of Tapovan. I did not stay in Tapovan very long, because it started raining, which I knew would turn to snow. That night we got about seven inches of snow in Joshimath. I’m told that this amount falls only about ever 4 years. That might sound like nothing, but it completely shut down everything. The roads were terrible and I couldn’t move anywhere. Additionally, the electricity went out again. This time, I was better prepared for the cold and I felt that I handled it somewhat better. A big key is drinking a lot of warm drinks with calories in them. I managed to find some pretty bad hot cocoa in Joshimath, which was only 40 rupees. I tried mixing that with powdered milk and it was decent.

After waiting for about three days, I was able to leave Joshimath. For some reason, my landlord (Uncle) wanted to help me get the Jeep. I say “for some reason,” because he walks extremely fast even in the snow and it was very difficult to keep up with him while I had a huge hiking backpack on weighing me down. I took a Jeep from Joshimath to Chamoli and then from Chamoli to Karnapryag. Karnapryag is where Dr. Uniyal’s in-laws live and they were generous enough to let me stay in their house without paying.

I was able to do a significant amount of work in Karnapryag, because Dr. Uniyal’s niece assisted me. She was pretty helpful, but I have to say that it was probably one of my most stressful cultural experiences in India. I had taken for granted just how open-minded my landlords are in Joshimath. But then again, they lived with Shazia for about three years, and she is Muslim. There aren’t really Muslims in that part of the Himalayas. I didn’t feel that this family was culturally too different from what I’d experienced. But they were extremely trapped in their own version of reality. I realize that similar people are found across America as well. It’s not an Indian thing, so much as a rural thing.

They were convinced that I did not speak or understand Hindi. This was not the same experience as dealing with the female doctor in Joshimath. Clearly, she was searching for excuses not to help me. I think this was largely because they have never been around anyone learning a new language. So they very much struggled with the concept that I could understand some things, but not understand the entire language. They also mixed together Garhwali and Hindi a far bit, which confused me as well. I don’t think that the older relatives realized when they were speaking Garhwali and when they were speaking Hindi. Overall, it was a very tiring experience.

I know my Hindi isn’t great. But I get around relatively easily. I also communicate with my landlords in Joshimath on a regular basis. I felt that this immersion was very much confrontational. When I didn’t speak Hindi, I was criticized. When I did, I was laughed at. It was frustrating, but also educational. I found that confronting people who make fun of my language skills will make them feel uncomfortable, but not hostile. I think that criticism is just much more liberally given in India, which I can use to my advantage. It is also a salient fact that the person in this family who criticized me the most was the only person who could speak some English. His English was god-awful. I had so much material that I did not use. But if he insults me again, I’ll be sure to jump into a very fast-paced English conversation.

After two days in Karnapryag, I came back to Joshimath. I’ve been trying to give myself a lot of free time to relax. I have been eating a lot, taking hot baths, and spending too much time online. But I’m also leaving for a whirlwind tour of Punjab on Saturday, so I need as much rest as I can get.

Monday, January 23, 2012

New Photos

It's be awhile since I've written, but I'm fine. It's mostly due to the fact that I've been in the field with bad internet. Here are my photos of my snowy, cold time in Joshimath and a much warmer time in Karnapryag.

https://plus.google.com/photos/101737615291512796999/albums/5701098125313015553

I'll write about it soon!

Monday, January 9, 2012

A List of Constructive Criticisms to India


I recently finished reading Mindy Kaling’s book, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (And Other Concerns.) At one point, she makes a list of things that bother her about her Jewish friends. She prefaces this with something along the lines of: “I know racist people say racist things and then say, ‘But I have a ton of black friends.’ Does this excuse racism? Absolutely not. That said, all of my friends are Jewish.” Well, right now everyone that I am friends with, see, talk to, and inhabit my town with are Indians. Therefore, I hope that this list of “things that I could do without” doesn’t come off as racist. It’s important to note that I’m loving India and I applied to be here. But this year is all about cross-cultural communication and it’s my duty to give some feedback. Here it goes:

·      Shoe Sense: I don’t mean taking off your shoes to come inside. Yes, I understand that and I always nervously hover around a door until I see what my host is doing. What I hate is getting yelled at for not wearing sandals inside to protect my feet from the marble floor. Yet, when I see my landlady in Joshimath (Aunty) walking inside with her sandals on, I’m scolded for wearing my sneakers inside the house. You’ll yell at me if I take them off. I don’t wear sandals in the winter. Do you want me to wear sandals in the winter? Could those come inside? Your foot looses heat at more than just the sole. You’re decision to rely on sandals in below freezing weather makes me doubt that your ancestors really did live in the Himalayas. Sandals are not better than close-toed shoes. In fact, they’re nonsensical in the snowy mountain right now. I won’t budge on this point.
·      People talking with confidence when they have no idea what they’re talking about: I don’t really need to elaborate. It’s like the whole nation is that drunken philosophy major at a college party. Yeah, you know the one.
·      Food Racism: Indians generally don’t have much politically correct humor. An example is a picture of a Chinese gooseberry in a children’s notebook. The gooseberry looks like a caricature of a Chinese man and is saying, “I’m at ease, I’m Chinese.” At least what the gooseberry is saying doesn’t make enough sense to be racist. Well, I can handle the general lack of PC behavior. But I’m getting really tired of the food bigotry. An example is when I made spinach with rosemary for myself. It was great. I had a huge bunch of spinach that I didn’t cook left over, which I planned on mixing with pasta. This happened in Dehradun, and when I’m in Dehradun I cook a lot of Western food for myself.  When I returned home from the institute, Jannat and Didi proudly showed me that Didi had taken my extra spinach and cooked it the correct way. Jannat indicated towards my leftover cooked spinach as if it were clearly my panicked attempts at feeding myself. I explained that I enjoyed that spinach and they both looked shocked. Then they explained that Didi had cooked Indian spinach for me and were clearly very proud at showing me the error of my ways. The spinach was overcooked and greasy. There’s no way that was healthier for me or tastier. Similarly, when I make a sandwich for myself with peanut butter and bananas (which is a pretty healthy breakfast option given how many calories I burn to stay warm) my landlord (Uncle) says, “Fast food. Easy food” in a way that implies that I am less-than-human. I say human, because Uncle is one of the few Indian men who I know who likes to cook. So, I don’t believe that his remark was implying that I’d make a bad wife. Yes, I did not wake up before dawn to roll chapattis, which are essentially the same as my bread. I made my food faster. That doesn’t mean that it’s inferior.
·      Men wearing sweat suits as if it makes them a famous cricket player: It doesn’t. But it does make you look like a High School girl when those Juicy sweat suits were popular.
·      Anyone replying in the affirmative regardless of what the answer really is: My friend Radhima called a driver for me. He said that he might come and pick me up at six, six thirty or seven. She said (in Hindi), “So you’ll be coming between six and seven?” His response, “Okay madam.” Another example is when the cook at the institute brought me egg curry. I thought it was kofta (a ball made of cheese and veggies) at first so I asked him, “Kofta?” He replied, “Yes.” My friends freaked out, because they weren’t sure if I ate eggs or not (a lot of people don’t in India.)
·      Sometimes a spice is just a spice: I’m tired of being told about how healthy different masalas (spices) are. I’m here studying traditional medicine; I know that a lot of spices are healthy. This whole thing goes back to the food bigotry. You’re food isn’t that much better than anyone else’s (except England’s.) Have you looked at the rising rate of diabetes in India lately? Also, if I’m eating your food that means that I can handle the spice. Stop talking about how spicy it is and waiting for me to start waving at my face and yelling for water. But now that I’ve mentioned England, I think the British colonial period might have sparked the idea that all Western food is grey sludge in comparison to Indian food, which of course, English food is.
·      Brainwashing as a substitute for education: I’ve read Monika’s (the daughter of my Joshimath landlords’) school assignments. While I’m sure that it’s not on par with what Kim Jung-un will demand that children learn in North Korea; it is possibly on par with post-Nixon China. It’s a lot of “what is good for the Indian child’s mind is good for India’s future” and “mindlessly memorizing scientific equations is the best way to secure the Government of Uttarakhand’s production of hydropower.” (Those aren’t exact quotes.) I guess it makes sense, especially since it is so competitive to get into college here. But a little creativity and less behavior like what was seen in “The Wall” would probably produce some flexibly minded youths who could solve a lot of the problems that India and the world are facing.

PS I'm posting this on my computer's last battery power and we don't have electricity right now in Joshimath. So, it might be awhile before my next post.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Missing the Bus to Joshimath Makes Erica a Productive Researcher

Well, the title says it all. I woke up at 4:00 AM this morning, but the autorickshaw driver did not. My autowalla thought that he should pick me up at 4:50 rather than 4:15 and I gave up all chance of making the bus. I could've taken the bus tomorrow; however a jeep is picking up people on the morning of the 7th, so I decided to opt for that rather than the cold, long bus ride.

This has been great for many reasons. Most importantly, it's given me time to catch up with my friends at the institute who I didn't see over the holidays. Secondly, I forgot to submit my mid-grant report, which was due December 30th (you've got to be kidding me.) This requires Dr Uniyal's signature, therefore it's really fortunate that I have time to do it and get it signed before taking off to the field.

Completing the report then spurred me to actually look at the data that I've been entering; and the result was a beautiful mid-grant report that doesn't look at all like I was drinking hot toddies and listening to Azealia Banks' "212" while writing it. (Please no one actually listen to this song, especially relatives. It is filthy and helps me to get through the ever sexually repressed Indian experience.) An example is finding an opened, unused pregnancy test in the girls dorm and listening to my friends dare each other to take it. That is preschool for NYC public school students.

For your pleasure, I have place a PDF of the unsigned report, so you too can be fooled into thinking that I was composed and analytical this whole time, rather than the emotional, Hindi-stuttering "pharenger" that I am.

I apologize that they're off center. That's the only way that I could keep them in the same sequence.


Wednesday, January 4, 2012

India with Friends


Well, it’s been pretty ridiculously social since Christmas onwards. I’m not complaining. I’m very happy that I have had so many people who I care about around me, or else the holidays would have been overwhelmingly depressing. The day after Christmas, my friends from America flew into Delhi. I already wrote about this a bit. But I didn’t include the pictures of the Red Fort, about which I previously wrote. Those pictures are in the album, which I’m including in this post.

We did Delhi for about a day, which was a little too much for my friends. Getting your first dose of India in Delhi is rough, because you really have to know Delhi to have a completely pleasant time there. The Red Fort was a good experience, but it did not hold up in comparison to what I’d already seen in Delhi, Rajasthan and Agra. I think there are other structures in Delhi that are nicer, but I guess it’s located well and it was used up through the British Empire, which is interesting at least.

The next day, I returned to Dehradun and my friends went to Agra. I had about a day in Dehradun before they arrived and we spent most of their first day looking for a hotel. I had no idea how difficult it is to find a place to stay in Dehradun. It really isn’t a tourist destination, so it does not have a good array of budget options. It’s also extremely difficult to travel around a city with five people and four huge backpacks if one doesn’t have access to a taxi. So overall, the day was a bit of a wash, except that they did end up staying in what turned out to be a very grungy place.

The next day, my friends moved to a cleaner, more pleasant guesthouse complete with pugs. We then proceeded up to Rajpur, which is only a little ways out of Dehradun, and home to a Tibetan community. The Tibetan restaurant that I wanted to go with them was closed, so we went to this little hole-in-the-wall that only I recognized as a restaurant rather than someone’s house. The momos and chowmein were amazing. A huge improvement over the restaurant that we planned on going to, with the exception that it did not have the Tibetan bread that is stuffed with meat. We walked through Rajpur to the Sakya Center, but the Temple was closed for cleaning. From there we took the vikram (large, shared rickshaw) to the main bazaar. I bought a sleeping mat, which I will really use for yoga.

For New Year’s Eve, we went up to Landour, which was a great break for them from the chaos of even a small city like Dehradun. We stayed in a very small, clean guesthouse, which we completely occupied. It was up at the top of Landour and was quiet, pine-scented and an overall perfect place to celebrate the New Year’s if you’re feeling homesick for North America.

I brought them down to Mussoorie for dinner; we ate at what is probably the best non-veg restaurant that I’ve ever eaten at in India. Everyone ate about three times what all the Indians were eating for dinner and we got a lot of nervous looks from the staff before they realized how capable of eating Americans are. Jason made best friends with the cook, who overheard Jason praising his food with a lot of English swears. I think Jason may have offered him a visa in exchange for being his cook in America; little does the cook know that Jason has no such power.

We made our way back up the hill and eventually got a taxi to Sisters’ Bazaar, which is where we were staying. Jason and Lara kept on falling asleep before midnight, and none of us had room for the wine that Jason bought for the occasion. But we were able to eat some Indian sweets, which no one really liked. No one ever really likes them. New Year’s was pretty laid-back. The notable exceptions were the fireworks that Mussoorie blasted off at midnight and that Peter sent me a text message at exactly 12:00 AM Indian time.

The next day we wandered through Landour and I hiked around some parts that I’d never seen before. We made our way down the side of the hill to the old cemetery were Christians in Landour are still being buried. But the graves go back to when a British military hospital was located in Landour, and the soldiers who did not recover were buried in there. It was very melancholy to walk around those who died far away from home. I don’t know that I related to them, as I know when I am leaving India; but I think understood some of the concerns that they might have had before leaving for India in the first place.

We returned back to Dehradun and I slept much harder than I have in a long time. I think the combination of hiking and thinner air really wore me down. The next day we did more Tibetan stuff, which included seeing Mindrolling Monastery and more momos. I’d say the momos were as good as the previous place that we had gone, but that the chowmein was lease greasy, and therefore not chowmein-y enough. That was the last day that my friends spent in Dehradun and we ended it with the bottle of wine at my place before they were taken to the train station. I think they’re in Bangalore by now.

Having friends come and visit you in India is a blessing. It does however; bring a different light to the whole place. I felt much more carefree and less concerned about appearances when I already look so much like a tourist. It is also nice to have shared some of the places that I’ve been with people who I will see back in the United States. Peter is hopefully going to visit in February. We’re going to explore the area around Mumbai together, which will be a very different experience for me. In that case, I will be a tourist completely. I’m a little excited to go into a new situation without thinking about work.

Tomorrow morning, bright and early, I’m going to Joshimath. I might be a bit harder to reach up there, because I’ll be less obsessed with telecommunications now that I’ll be up there after the medical school application process. It should be snowing up there soon and I’ll try to post pictures as much as possible. I am however, a little concerned, because Sarita had surgery in Dehradun this past week. I visited her during her recovery, and she says that she's fine, but she is in a lot of pain. I’m worried about her health and also I know that I’ll be going to Joshimath without an interpreter. Hopefully, I’ll be able to adjust to the circumstances and Sarita will have an easy recovery.

The photos along with this post are here: https://plus.google.com/photos/101737615291512796999/albums/5693751164182292833