sexual frsutrations

I've written a few times about how men and women are separated around here. After observing the customs very closely, I'm not sure who has it worse. Take last night's dinner for example.

The Math(s) department had a gathering of about 15 people to go to some swanky hotel called the raintree. To be fair, this is a really nice hotel, and I'd gladly stay in it any night someone is willing to rent a room! They even had a decent bar, several excellent scotches and believe it or not FOUR BEERS to choose from. They also had wine, which is a first for me in Chennai. I have not seen a single drop of wine anywhere until last night. Of course, dinner was provided, but we each had to buy our own alcohol. This included me ordering a "pint" which meant a 12 oz bottle. I told the waiter I'd ordered a pint and he brought me a 650 ml bottle. This is ALSO NOT A PINT. A pint is universal speak for 500mL not 375, not 650. Oh well, I'll enjoy my extra 150ml of crappy beer. All this is totally beside the point. I'm just still very bitter about the whole alcohol situation here.

Here's the point I was starting to make. Last night I was sitting around a big table mostly full of grad students. There were 7 men and 3 women. I sat down in a random chair and after realizing the tv was behind me there was some shuffling of chairs so that some of the male grad students could watch tv. I ended up sitting between two of the women and the third two seats away from me. I was definitely the outsider. I felt like going and eating with the chinese business men sitting at a table behind us. In any case, it's not appropriate for men and women to shake hands. I sat there and made a little small talk with the people sitting near me. Then I started talking about my hilarious view of India vs. America. I guess I mentioned some taboos or something. I started talking about how guns are not such a big deal here referencing the bb guns, but how I was amused that the levels of "alcoholism" are a) don't drink b) you're a full-fledged alky.
They told me that the bb guns don't really count as guns. I retorted that kingfisher doesn't really count as beer either. But that was not met with such enthusiasm... I think that was my mistake.

So after sharing my insight so far (mostly with those who've never been stateside) I was ousted from the conversations around me a little. After dinner when we were all leaving one of the girls (a graduate student) had called her dad to come pick her up. Apparently she is form Chennai, and still lives at home. I can't believe that she is doing anything other than waiting to be married off.

So here are my observations about the roles of men and women (so far)
Men:
1) Expected to be the breadwinner. I would say bring home the bacon, but I haven't seen a single strip of bacon in this town yet.
2) In General have much more privilege when it comes to education and employment.
3) Because of 2 receive all the blame for mistakes.
4) Not allowed to converse freely with women unless given the "ok" by her father or husband. I shouldn't say, not allowed to converse, but the real question that has sort of been "Why would a man wish to talk to a woman to whom he isn't married?" In fact, "if a man needs to ask a woman a question, why not ask her father or husband?"

Women:
1) Expected to cook and maintain the home. This I guess isn't terribly shocking. Although, I'm looked at as sort of nutty when I say I like to cook. WHAT!? Why would a man want to cook at home? Are you trying to start a restaurant? No! I'm not trying to start a restaurant. I like cooking so that I don't have to eat the crappy food at the canteen for dinner! This shouldn't be so difficult to understand... However, finding a woman to teach me how to cook, this will be much more difficult, argh!

2) Have a lot of social privilege because men don't. Women have their own separate compartment on every train, but can sit with the men if they wish. At one bar around here, Bike and Barrel, Single men are relegated to the second floor. Women may roam freely.

3) Even though women can obtain education and jobs, they are still expected to be married at their fathers' requests. Most women have no say so in their own marriages.


So this all adds up to a bizarre world for me. I don't know if I'm allowed to talk to women or not. I think it's a bit of a crap shoot depending on the woman. I'm certainly not allowed to touch a woman, not a handshake, not a hug, none of that. Unless her father deems it so. But of course, I don't wish to be at the mercy of some woman's father. Basically, my day is filled with lots of men doing men things. I sit and eat with men, I talk with men, I drink tea with men. To make matters worse, Indian music videos show loads of gorgeous Indian women (most of whom I assume are half british) dancing around scantily clad with hunky Indian men. These music videos are shown in bars and restaurants that all completely filled with men and men only. Oh my many many gods the frustration one can feel here...

Now, perhaps the last important point; the thing that strikes me as the strangest here is this. I see lots of guys hanging on their guy friends by putting their arms around their shoulders. I also see young men holding hands just by the pinky or index finger. In my mind, these are clearly homosexual men. In addition, in my American mind, I don't even care a little bit. Gay: fine by me. Not gay: also fine by me. However, here this is clearly not homosexual behavior, as homosexuals are clearly deranged individuals. I can't wrap my mind around that yet.


The overall point I'm trying to make is this:
I'm not here to pick up women, I'm here to do math and to travel and see this part of world. However, living here means that I need to function like a normal human being. What is so difficult for me here is the complete lack of balance. To my narrow American mind it is completely normal and healthy to have friends of both sexes. In fact, in my mind it's ok to hug your friends and even kiss them on the cheek if they are of opposite sex. I know for sure I would be derided as rude in Lebanon if I didn't hug and kiss all those when greeting or saying goodbye. I will offer my apology to south India now and in the face of adversity "boldly" proclaim:

"I like to have female friends. I also like to have male friends. I think it's ok for me to hug my friends regardless of their gender." (also, I think it's ok to drink beer)

Jay-Z, you have no idea!

Wednesday night resulted in a failure to arrive at a the radison for their kebab house and bar. Therefore, I went again with my american friend mike on thursday. This time, we had a map printed out, and an address and confirmation from google maps, etc. We're ready to go. Oh my, google maps led us astray again! I'm getting really tired of getting lost by taking the advice of said searching service. If there is one thing I know about google maps now, it's that is has just as little idea about where stuff is in chennai as I do. But I'm getting way out of sequence here...

The result of google maps was that we got lost in a rich neighborhood on the south side of chennai and had to catch a train back so that we could eat at some "chinese" restaurant. Along the way, however, being head strong americans we decided to walk for a few minutes toward the IIT campus and just catch an autorickshaw down the road. That was not the most brilliant idea I've had yet in India. We ended up walking down through the slums between CIT and IIT campuses. We ended up on a main road with rickshaw drivers who immediately spotted that we were the wrong color and jumped all over us. So we negotiated for a while, after showing them the maps and telling them we know exactly how far we're going and the rate they still asked for double, so we said "no, we'll walk." Apparently Americans don't get chased after, the way the locals do. I stopped and asked a traffic guy where to go. He told us to take the M70 bus (if that's not an omen, then I can't be totally sure what is). As we were talking to him, one of the worker boys (vinodkumar) showed up and said hi to us. We were only a mile or so from campus at this point, so it wasn't too shocking. Even though he only speaks Telugu and I only speak english, he somehow managed to communicate the idea that he was taking us to the bus. So we agreed. He walked us through more slums. As we were walking by one of the many miniature rows of houses, he said, "my house" and pointed. He lives there! I couldn't quite believe it. "My house, come." was his refrain. At this point, mike and I were getting quite hungry, but I knew we couldn't pass such an opportunity. We followed Vinodkumar down a little narrow alley to the last "house" on the right. We were invited in wamrly. The doorframe was significantly shorter than I am. In fact significantly shorter than Mike, and he's probably only 6'0" or 6'1". Vinod's mother and father and younger live in this hut.


Worldy possessions

Three walls of brick and a ceiling of scrap metal, with a fan hung from an extension cord. They have a small tv, and buckets for cleaning/bathing and wood for making a fire from which to cook. We were invited in and Vinod's mother prepared us a place to sit. His father asked what we wanted to drink, and then sent vinod with money. I felt horrible at this point for allowing them to buy ME a coffee. Meanwhile all the neighborhood children were looking in the hut to see who the strange foreigners were. They all had huge and radiant smiles on their faces as if our presence was a big treat to them. Throng by throng they came and just barely peeked around the corner to see what the commotion was. We finished our coffees and Vinod knew we were trying to catch a bus and warned that if we didn't go we'd miss it. So he volunteered to walk us to the nearest us stop. I left without feeling. The hospitality and pride and warmth displayed by a family with nothing left me speechless and thoughtless. I could not comprehend exactly what had just happened.

This fan hangs five feet off the ground

After Vinod led us to the bus station we tried to catch a bus, but there was no way the two americans could ride that bus, or any bus. They were all packed to the brim, with no fewer than 15 people hanging on the outside. I'm into joyriding sure, but not in that way. Vinod thought it was mildly amusing that we wouldn't board such a vehicle, so we caught a rickshaw to the bus station we needed.

Now I'd be back to sequence if I said google maps had led us astray. We walked directly to where we needed to go to find, not only no Radison, but no one around seemed to know where it was either. We decided to walk to the nearest train station which led us to this interesting discovery.

The way to the train

This is what it's like in the slums for 100s of millions of people everyday in India. A quick aside: If you put together all the huge cities in India you'll result in a population of about 100-120 million people. Considering India has 1.12 BILLION people, and half of the ones in big cities live in slums I imagine the idea that 100s of millions of people living like this is probably pretty accurate.



Our excursion ended at some chinese restaurant called Wang's Kitchen, which really could have been almost any "chinese" restaurant in America. It turns out, the chinese only serve chinese food to chinese people. They dumb it down for EVERYONE else. That however is not the important part.

Here are a couple more photos from around a few slums in Chennai. The goat in a really nice area of town with the "posh" slums, and the general scene at any slum near a river.

A Goat just hanging out in a nice house

This is their drinking a bathing water.

Backyard, no need to mow the grass

Indian Methodology Part 2: Autorickshaws

In Soviet Russia, cab hales YOU.

I thought one of the most peculiar things about philly was the fact that cabbies always honk at you if their cabs are empty. In India, apparently it’s easier than that. You can say no to about 25 autorickshaw drivers and be walking away from them and they’ll still pursue you. There are a couple easy tricks I’ve found to dealing with the drivers when you actually need one.

First, to hail a driver one should stand still and look foreign. If you don’t look foreign then you have several easy options. You can walk up to a driver directly. This will start a long negotiation process which you are bound to lose OR hail a cab like normal and hop right in. This will earn you a ride in which the meter is “broken” or “not working” and you will have to negotiate when you disembark.
The price for a ride is somewhere along the lines of 9-10 Rs/km. Chennai is a geographically big place and there are lots of little alleyways and whatever. This means if you don’t pay attention the driver will tell you they’ve gone further than they really have. You really have to know exactly how far you are going. I suggest the following method. First, Speak Tamil to them. This will immediately make your markup only double. I also suggest negotiation BEFORE riding. Tell them where you want to go and ask how much which in Tamil is “yenna vella?” or literally “what cost?” They will tell you some absurd number because you are foreign. If you don’t speak Tamil and they detect this (even if you are Indian) they’ll mark you up 2x or 3x. The Tamils are very proud or their Tamil identity and it shows. Try reading something on Indian poilitics sometime and the political party DMK. The negotiations begin! If you know the cost (calculate it as 9Rs/km as the crow flies) Tell them “ille” which means “no” and then the number you calculated and tell them in Tamil. You are actually asking for something too low. The discrepancy will be staggering, but don’t let this phase you. For example it will sound something like this:

Driver: You need driver?
Foreigner: R.A. Puram
D: Ok I take you. Come.
F: How much?
D: 250
F: No, too much. 30
D: 220
F: 30

There are several excuses they will give you. Bad weather, late hour, too far, etc are the most common. In other big cities (I'm told) rickshaws just drive around with the meter on, but somehow the Chennai drivers have formed a sort of ad hoc union.

As it is, even with good negotiating you’ll probably get a ride for 100Rs when it actually costs 40-50.

If you had started with Tamil the negotiations would have started from 150-200 with the driver.

If the driver isn’t budging on his price, go ahead and walk away and begin negotiating with another driver. Then they will both vie for you dollar.
Once you’ve settled on a price be sure to have that exact amount available in Rupees. Otherwise the driver is likely to simply take whatever you hand him and feign ignorance saying that he gave you a fair price and that you paid. No change.

Early on, my roommate said to me, "This system is not about the fact that it doesn’t cost much money to ride. The point is that if I’m paying 4 Rs and everyone else has to pay 2 Rs I’m upset because this isn’t fair." He’s right too. One thing you’ll notice about India is that non-American things are really cheap. It doesn’t cost much to live here which is why my salary this year is somewhere around $5000 total. The drivers of rickshaws look at you as someone who has dollars. Persons living in the slums can live off less than a dollar a day per family of 4. So don’t worry about not paying 250 Rs for a cab ride even though in the USA that’s still a cheap fare. Pay the correct wage and let them get on with their business. In addition try to realize that negotiation about EVERYTHING is part of the way of life here. Just start with that attitude and you’ll only get ripped off a little bit.

India will break your heart

I have finished my first week in India. The culture shock is intense. India will attack all your senses and never let go. My physical and mental capabilities are stretched and will remain so. Coming from Philadelphia where the usual low temperature this time of year is in the upper 30s to lower 50s the hear here is a shock. The lowest recorded temperature in Chennai is 49F. I'm sweltering constantly. The only relief I've had so far was the two day rain spell that rained out my weekend and brought the temperature down to 79F overnight on Sunday. But, of course it's not simply the heat and humidity the oppresses. Everywhere you turn there is an olfactory attack! The smells are fetid, pungent, sweet, malodorous, and simply overwhelming in every possible way. The constant smell of garbage and human waste pervades everything and everywhere. Just to mask the odors one will smell sweet incense, millions of tons of flowers used for offering at the thousands of shrines. Sweet chai and coffee, curries, fresh fruits, decaying fruits, dust, debris, mold, animal waste, car exhaust, autorickshaw exhaust, human body odor, these all shine through at every turn. My nose is already desensitizing.
The people here are extra friendly and the service can't be beat. The problem for me is seeing how hard people work for next to nothing. When I arrived I brought with me, one bookbag and two suitcases. They contained my worldly possessions. When I was taken to my apartment the institute sent a small guy to ride with us so that he could carry my bags. The guy although probably 18-20 is only 5'5" at most. My bag must have weighed as much as he does. But yet he was too proud to carry the smaller bag. He insisted on carrying my bag for me. When I tried to tip him I was refused. The universal breakthrough for me has been saying things in each persons native tongue. For the vast majority here (in Chennai) it's Tamil. For many at my work place it's Bengali. The smiles are radiant and the flash of recognition that you are welcome here even if you're not accepted is comforting to me.

All the attitudes toward people and other living creatures I have ever known in the west are completely irrelevant here. Slum dwellers are to be ignored. They do not count as people. Their only use is the provide manual labor. I have seen stray animals everywhere. They are all starving, very much like the people that surround them. Animals however garner great respect due to the Hindu religion. At least here cows won't charge you, because they don't expect to be killed for their meat. In fact cows are completely peaceful. They eat garbage off the street and lie down next to the road. I saw a dog yesterday with a hole in its leg which it had produced by chewing on its own bug bites. Another dog had chewed a hold in its testicle. My heart strings have been stripped down. I've seen dead dogs, starving dogs, starving humans, strong and healthy cows, and healthy strong people. All I know is that India does everything with such intensity;good and bad.

Somehow, a country less than a third the size of America with more than triple the population finds a way to go forward. I am beginning to suspect that India does things in such a way because it is a necessity. I don't believe that America could handle a density of population nearly ten times what it currently has.

What I know from being here a week is that India is its own bizarre little world. I am full of hope and excitement that I will learn more as the weeks go marching on. I also know that I will be heartbroken everyday by the same things that bring me so much joy.

First Attempt at a Beach Day

I shouldn't really call yesterday's adventure a "Beach Day." It was more like walking along the boardwalk after an early dinner. What I found was essentially what I had expected: bikini clad babes and buff nearly naked men trying to pick up said babes for a ride in their sweet mustang. Oh wait, that's California in the mid to late part of the 20th century. THIS, this is the Bay of Bengal in conservative south India. Let me just show you a few pictures to emphasize my point.




This must be my favorite picture of the beach so far! This is an actual bb gun firing about 5 feet away from little balloons. Moreover, there are people walking in between the wooden backings of these little prize boards. Having a still distinctly American eye toward things I have a couple problems with this. I quote "You'll shoot your eye out kid." That's why little Raplhie had so much trouble convincing someone to give him the Red Rider bb gun! Because people use them to shoot balloons from five feet away with living breathing human beings right next to the target. Of course, if you miss, then you shouldn't be shooting anyway, but there's no safety check...
You'll shoot your eye out kid!


The Fish Fry Stall: There must be 100 of these right on the beach. This, by the way, is elliot's beach near besant nagar. It's walking distance from where I work. Albeit, it's a long(ish) walk.
What to do during Lent.




These next two pictures are just general scenery at the beach. WOW, look at all that skin being shown! Go directly to the beach (with or without shoes) from your workplace or your hanging out place. Don't bother to pack a picnic or bring a case of cold beer. Just walk on down there in full dress. Also, particularly fun is being a foreigner with a camera! I went walking down there with my shoes and socks on, but this was to avoid stepping on the garbage and getting more bug bites.
Scantily Clad Indians



Ocean City, eat your heart out!




I don't know about you, but I haven't witnessed Ganesh hanging around Iowa too often. Perhaps it happens all the time and I choose to ignore it. In any case, this is supposedly American Sweet Corn. I don't know why India needs to important corn, it seems they can grow it plenty well on their own. Maybe I should buy some and claim that I'm from Illinois and this corn is not up to snuff. Perhaps I can get a discount. My price would drop from the foreigners' price back down to the normal persons' price.
Sri Ganesh visits Illinohiowa.



So there you have it dear reader, my first experience at a Tamil Nadu beach during daylight hours. I will report again once I see other beaches, but it appears my idea of being near the Bay and having the ability to take a beach day every saturday has just been shattered in a rather violent way.

The Daily Commute

So far, my favorite part of the day has been riding the train one way or the other. The scenery is mixed between gorgeous and heartbreaking. I love standing right on the edge with the doors open. The breeze (which smells like shit) blowing right by you. On camera it would make a really good scene in a movie to pan up and down the train and see all the people just taking in their home city. I am often the only foreigner on the train. If there are other foreigners they are from this subcontinent and so I can't tell.

I walk from my apartment (still with nothing in it) down greenways road toward the greenways road railway station. I get the stares constantly. They are broken up from time to time with the ridiculously tall foreigner saying funny things like "good morning" in Tamil, or "my name is elbow" also in Tamil. Telling people my name is elbow is a confusing undertaking. They think I just don't know what word I'm looking for, when in fact I know exactly what I'm saying. It's one of the few phrases that I actually say correctly. In any case, I get stares and laughter, none of it derisive. The people here are generally friendly and love the fact that I speak their language.

I board the train and take is three stops across the Adyar River to Indira Nagar station. Cross the foot bridge over Canal Bank Road and walk a quarter mile past a couple tea stands and random stray cows, pigs, dogs, bicyclists riding 3 to a bike, and other various strange things to my humble office of the Institute of Mathematical Sciences.

This morning that all changed, probably permanently. Usually I ride in with my roommate Rakesh, but he needed extra time this morning so I rode alone. I was walking toward the train station and saw a slum dwelling woman "brushing her teeth" by scraping a brick on the stone ground, putting here right index finger in the clay and brushing... I thought that I'd seen the strangest thing I'll see all day. That lastest about two minutes. As I got to the platform a man sat next to me and he was obviously a foreigner, so I asked him if he spoke english. He doesn't really speak english, but enough for me to get by. He is from Nepal and speaks Tamil fluently. I think he works in something technological here. In any case he asked me some things I answered what I could in Tamil and he loved it. He asked how long I've been here and I said one week and then his eyes lit up. He couldn't believe I know so much Tamil for one week. So he says, "you like tea? Come." So he buys me tea at this little tea stand right near where I work. I sit down and have a chat with him and a man I assume to be a slum dweller who is also very impressed by my (admittedly lacking) Tamil. I learned a few words and will try to learn how to ask for more words. I think I have new morning tea buddies. Hopefully this will be my IN crowd for learning lots about Chennai's local language and other various things.

More Chennai Photos

Some more photos



Best laundry rack I've ever had



Entrain or detrain... Is that like Introit and detroit from a religious service?


Corruption eh? I wonder if they've seen the train stations around here.



This is VinodKumar. He is the Telugu boy to whom I was showing the wonders of the interwebs. He was writing my name in Telugu.


Part of my daily commute!



A missing boy. This poster is describing his family and his age. I was surpringly able to read about half of it. It's a real shame though, this city is so big and almost everyone without money goes completely unnoticed.



The Corndog tree. If only corndogs really grew on trees. My friend mike says he's be johny corndog seed, going up and down the east coast planting corndog trees if it were!



Here is a huge icon for chennai's small by percentage, but large by numbers christian community. They truly believe St. Thomas (doubting thomas) is buried here.



The preferred method of eating: Just dig right in. No need for utensils. This is why they take that whole, 'use your right hand only' thing so seriously. More on that in another post on Indian methodology.



The political party: DMK is the political party started to prevent hindi from becoming the national language. Tamils are very proud of their language and culture and it is very different from the hindustanis in the north. Check out these links
DMK wiki, DMK india, and DMK in tamil



The huge I.T. center: It's sort of staggering to see how huge this place really is. It also guarantees the slums close by. Interesting combination.