I have absolutely no idea what happened on Sunday. No clue. I had initially planned to take a long walk, photograph my beautiful surroundings, do some laundry, and read. That all changed when Vijay (my “Indian father”) invited me to a Marathi film with his sons and their friends.
When they asked if I wanted to see a Marathi film I thought we would be going to a theater to actually see a full length production. I was quite surprised when we stopped in the middle of a field and realized that we were on a set watching the shooting of a low budget Marathi movie.
As soon as I stepped out of the car I was subject [object?] to the gaze of dozens of Indian men. It’s amazing how powerful a look can be, especially when the same one is replicated on so many different faces. They immediately offered me a chair in the shade and a photographer hurried over, shoved a camera in my face, and took literally hundreds of photos of me. Everyone else whipped out their camera phones.
The director, using Vijay’s sons as translators, asked me to be in the film. I firmly resisted but apparently have no backbone because, after 5 minutes of coaxing, telling me it would only take an hour, and assuring me I would only have to walk in front of the camera, I reluctantly agreed. Then everyone wanted the photographer to take pictures of me with them. Interestingly, Vijay started yelling at one of the men when he tried to put his arm around me in the photo (apparently the rest of it didn’t seem to bother him).
I was fairly mortified and uncomfortable the entire day.
As it turns out, I was the “other woman” in a music video (most Indian films randomly break into song and dance; if you haven’t seen any Bollywood, you really should). Although I haven’t seen any Marathi films before, I have gathered that white women generally aren’t portrayed favorably from the few Bollywood movies and Hindi music videos I actually have seen.
I walked in front of the camera. I also had to do some dancing and “acting.” Luckily two other girls showed up and we did almost everything together. I was so unbelievably happy that they were there. However, a man carried around a chair for me to sit in all day and everyone kept telling me how beautiful I am. They even went as far as to tell me that I look like Ashwarya Rai (if you don’t know who she is, you should google her and then laugh at the comparison). And on top of that, a man followed me around all day holding an umbrella above my head to protect me from the sun (a lot of good that did because I have a terribly painful burn on my back, shoulders, and upper chest).
Then something happened and everyone rushed away from the set. I, of course, followed. Vijay rushed me and his sons into his minivan and we drove away. A little ways up the road he stopped, got out of the car, and loudly exchanged some unpleasant words with one of the crewmembers. It got a little physical with some shoving but the director prevented it from going further. Vijay came back to the van with two other men, dropped me and his sons off a little up the road from their house, and sped off after the car that the crewmember was in. When he returned later the only thing he said to me was “personal problems.” I still have no clue what happened.
I assumed that we were done shooting for the day so I went on a walk into town and called Joost (my boyfriend) to tell him how horrible (yet also amusing) my day had been. Throughout my walk lots of people took pictures of me with their phones, and the big group of boys/men that I always have to walk through were especially awful with their harassment (just because I don’t understand Marathi doesn’t mean I can’t understand the gist of what they’re saying). As I was walking back to the house one of my family’s “helpers” was out looking for me. He scooped me up onto his motorbike and drove me back to the shoot.
We still had to finish the rest of the song. Ugh! By this time the crowd of people watching had grown into the hundreds (as if I wasn’t embarrassed enough). We had to dance more, and when the director realized that I could actually dance he offered to send everyone away so I would actually dance in front of the camera (I am not a performer so I told him not to bother). The director had us do a bunch of random stupid stuff and we ended the video with all of us “free styling” (if you can call it that). I was all set to leave when the producer (also the star) wanted to do a scene holding my hand, singing to me, with me laughing at him.
We finished filming at 7.30 pm. It was a long day of doing something I wasn’t too thrilled with. The only positive aspect of the day was getting to know the two other girls and the makeup artist (even though he didn’t put any makeup on me because I “have a natural beauty”). Flattery really doesn’t work on me.
The director asked me if I would be in his films in the future.
The next time I spend the entire day being humiliated I plan on getting paid big money for it :)
22.9.08
16.9.08
I ATE RAW FISH IN DELHI
No, I’m not joking.
Orientation was quite the broad mix of events. It included attending extravagant dinners hosted by AIF’s wealthy board members, meeting famous politicians, and touring India’s most famous art museum with the director after hours.
I also went on tours of Delhi led by street children, learned about the plight of waste-pickers in Delhi, and was bombarded by beggars on the street.
AIF arranged for us to learn about issues in India from activists working to change them. My favorites included Ashok Row Kavi, the first out gay man in India; a feminist activist, and a woman working to improve the lives of waste-pickers in Delhi. They were all quite inspiring.
On my free day I journeyed to Agra with five friends (my husbands for the day). Agra Fort and especially the Taj Mahal far surpassed my expectations. Both were stunningly beautiful. Unfortunately we only had an hour at the Taj and a portion of my time was spent avoiding people taking pictures of me. I could’ve spent all day sitting there staring at it.
Although I had some problems with orientation, I learned a lot. Interestingly, the sessions on microfinance and livelihoods added to my previous reservations about microfinance as a tool to end poverty. (As an aside, I was also reading Mohammed Yunus’ Banker to the Poor which really made me critique microfinance). I’m trying to withhold judgment until I dig into my work and get a very thorough perspective of the way it plays out on the ground.
And now I’m in Mhaswad.
To get here I flew from Delhi to Pune and then drove 3 ½ gorgeous hours out to the middle of nowhere. I was immediately dropped off at work and began reading a bunch of Mann Deshi’s literature. Everyone at work has been very kind and helpful.
I’m living with my mentor, Chetna Sinha. She’s the founder of the organization and has a really nice house. There are separate accommodations for guests which is great since I get my own space but also spend time with her family. To top it off, she lives on a beautiful farm and they get cobras and vipers a few times a month!! How awesome is that?? There are lots of animals and people wandering around, and we get fresh fruits (papaya and pomegranate right now) and vegetables from their farm.
Life is lovely :)
On Road India
Traffic here is a mystery to me. The road can be absolutely terrifying. Here (and throughout my stay) I will post scary things that I experience/witness on the road.
1. On the way back from Agra we had to hire a driver because all of the trains were booked. Halfway through the drive home we noticed that our driver was falling asleep. Turns out he hadn’t slept in three days. For the last half-hour of the trip he had to frequently stop to splash his face with cold water.
2. On our way back from an NGO visit in rural Rajasthan our bus driver decided that our side of the highway (2-3 lanes) had too much traffic. Solution? Drive over the median onto the other side of the road. We were driving on the wrong side of the road on a highway with trucks and cars coming directly at us!
3. Vehicles do not slow down for children. This morning I saw a little girl get hit by a motorcycle. She was completely fine (she didn’t even cry), but the driver’s response was to stop and yell at her.
No photos until I get a better internet connection :(
Orientation was quite the broad mix of events. It included attending extravagant dinners hosted by AIF’s wealthy board members, meeting famous politicians, and touring India’s most famous art museum with the director after hours.
I also went on tours of Delhi led by street children, learned about the plight of waste-pickers in Delhi, and was bombarded by beggars on the street.
AIF arranged for us to learn about issues in India from activists working to change them. My favorites included Ashok Row Kavi, the first out gay man in India; a feminist activist, and a woman working to improve the lives of waste-pickers in Delhi. They were all quite inspiring.
On my free day I journeyed to Agra with five friends (my husbands for the day). Agra Fort and especially the Taj Mahal far surpassed my expectations. Both were stunningly beautiful. Unfortunately we only had an hour at the Taj and a portion of my time was spent avoiding people taking pictures of me. I could’ve spent all day sitting there staring at it.
Although I had some problems with orientation, I learned a lot. Interestingly, the sessions on microfinance and livelihoods added to my previous reservations about microfinance as a tool to end poverty. (As an aside, I was also reading Mohammed Yunus’ Banker to the Poor which really made me critique microfinance). I’m trying to withhold judgment until I dig into my work and get a very thorough perspective of the way it plays out on the ground.
And now I’m in Mhaswad.
To get here I flew from Delhi to Pune and then drove 3 ½ gorgeous hours out to the middle of nowhere. I was immediately dropped off at work and began reading a bunch of Mann Deshi’s literature. Everyone at work has been very kind and helpful.
I’m living with my mentor, Chetna Sinha. She’s the founder of the organization and has a really nice house. There are separate accommodations for guests which is great since I get my own space but also spend time with her family. To top it off, she lives on a beautiful farm and they get cobras and vipers a few times a month!! How awesome is that?? There are lots of animals and people wandering around, and we get fresh fruits (papaya and pomegranate right now) and vegetables from their farm.
Life is lovely :)
On Road India
Traffic here is a mystery to me. The road can be absolutely terrifying. Here (and throughout my stay) I will post scary things that I experience/witness on the road.
1. On the way back from Agra we had to hire a driver because all of the trains were booked. Halfway through the drive home we noticed that our driver was falling asleep. Turns out he hadn’t slept in three days. For the last half-hour of the trip he had to frequently stop to splash his face with cold water.
2. On our way back from an NGO visit in rural Rajasthan our bus driver decided that our side of the highway (2-3 lanes) had too much traffic. Solution? Drive over the median onto the other side of the road. We were driving on the wrong side of the road on a highway with trucks and cars coming directly at us!
3. Vehicles do not slow down for children. This morning I saw a little girl get hit by a motorcycle. She was completely fine (she didn’t even cry), but the driver’s response was to stop and yell at her.
No photos until I get a better internet connection :(
3.9.08
Nostalgia
India has its own unique scent. It certainly isn't bad, and although I wouldn't call it pleasant either I somehow find myself drawn to it.
People say that smell is the sense most strongly tied to memory. The fact that I was going to be living in India for 10 months didn't really set in until I stepped out of the airport, took a deep breath of the Delhi air, and was flooded with wonderful memories from last summer. To most people the thought of Delhi air probably sounds repulsive but to me it's strangely comforting.
I'm here, I'm safe, and I feel invigorated!
Much love <3
People say that smell is the sense most strongly tied to memory. The fact that I was going to be living in India for 10 months didn't really set in until I stepped out of the airport, took a deep breath of the Delhi air, and was flooded with wonderful memories from last summer. To most people the thought of Delhi air probably sounds repulsive but to me it's strangely comforting.
I'm here, I'm safe, and I feel invigorated!
Much love <3
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