How do I even begin to describe the mix of emotions I have felt over the last few days? The experiences I have had have been so amazing and trying at the same time. With all the overwhelming emotions, the one thing I am certain of is that these experiences are irreplaceable and once in a lifetime.
Last week, I was told by my organization that I would be going to visit a rural village and will be staying there for a few days in order to become familiar with the issues in a rural community and how self help groups and microfinance loans are affecting the lives of woman. Initially I was really nervous about this; I had no idea about the conditions or what to expect and this coupled with not having any control is really difficult. To ease my nerves a little I arranged to go with another MSW student placed at the organization I am working and as a result of our shared experiences in the village we are now really close friends.
From the very beginning of our journey it was an adventure starting with the transportation. In order to get to the village we had to take a bus to a small town and then since the village I was going to was so rural, we had to take a small jeep and ride with many farm workers and laborers to the village called Pargoan. Once I arrived I realized that although it was only about an hour or so from the town I am based it, it was worlds apart. The climate was a bit colder and the landscape was all farmlands; lush green and vibrant as a result of the rains. When we finally reached the village we were told to go to the house of the SHG (Self-Help Groups) president.
Initially, I felt really awkward about just showing up at someone's house and staying with a family that I didn’t know and could not even communicate with. Despite my apprehensions, from the second I stepped into this family’s home, I was showered with so much kindness, hospitality and caring; I have never experienced anything like this in my life. It was truly so incredible that words do not do it justice but I will do my best to describe and capture some bits and pieces of my experiences and observations over the last few days.
From the moment I met my host family they continuously told me “in our culture guests are gods and with you being here it is like a god has entered our home.” Every time I would try to help w
ith something they would swiftly say to me “Guests are god-now sit down.” They spent hours preparing special Maharashtran specialties each day for me, boiled water for my baths and most importantly treated me with such kindness and love. Every time I would say thank you to them they would tell me, “stop saying that, you are just like our own daughter.”
On my first night in the village, I was sitting with the family late at night after our dinner as the rain was pouring outside and we had no power, with the light of a lantern I was showing them pictures of my family and Seattle. As I was telling them about my family and life back home in broken Marathi and English, the family’s older daughter, Neelam, looked at me an
d said “We are from such different worlds and even though your world might be better…you still came to see ours and that makes me really happy.” Her expression of this was so touching to me because I thought to myself that although people in the village are somewhat isolated, at the same time they realize that there is a world that is VERY different from the reality they are living in. I think that is something we as westerners often fail to recognize. We get so caught up in our own world and daily things that we cannot even comprehend lifestyles that are so vastly different than ours. For Neelam, sharing her world with someone from the outside and seeing the things that I value and appreciate about their lifestyle, I could sense made her feel proud and excited to share. Being in the village, when I would think about my life at home it was such a weird paradox yet at the same time Neelam’s right, not only did I come to see them but I was privileged that they let me in enough not only physically into their home but emotionally into their family and their hearts to experience the warmth and love the share with each other.
Once I was done showing them the pictures we got ready for bed. At night we would lay down several blankets on the floor and all sleep all in a row (men separate from women) on the floor that is also the common kitchen, bedroom, eating area and sitting room. Half way through the night, I woke up to someone putting an extra blanket on me and I opened my eyes for a split second to see it was my host mom. I honestly cannot describe why but it was the most comforting feeling not only for the extra blankets but just the touch of someone caring enough to wake up in the middle of the night to tuck you in.
On my second night in the village, I was a bit nervous because my co-worker who was there with me up until that point was leaving and I would be in the village by myself. I was worried because of language barriers as well as being the only outsider in the village but again, my host family sensed my anxiety and did everything they possible could to put me at ease.
Since the moment I got there I was telling my host mom how much I love all the saris and how beautiful they are. To lift my spirits after my friend left, when we got back to the house she pulled out a suitcase full of saris and said you have to choose three to try on. Then in broken English and Marathi she told me she wants me to wear some different saris to take pictures with to send
to my family back home. As she opened the suitcase all I could see was an array of beautiful, bright colorful saris. It was so interested that within the household, everything was VERY minimal and nothing was at all excessive yet my host mom, Savita Tai had over 60 saris-all perfectly and neatly folded and stored. The family explained to me that twice a year, on Diwali and a holiday similar to Valentines Day, brothers give their sister a gift of a new sari and that is how she ended up with so many saris. As I was sitting among this heap of beautiful fabric I was so overwhelmed and exited that I couldn’t decide on any (I was like a kid in a candy shop and I’m cual es mejor). Before I knew it, Savita tai had selected the three that she decided would look best on me and about 20 women from the surrounding houses around the village showed up at the home to help dress me up. I honestly don’t even know how this news
traveled but the whole village knew about this. As one woman was wrapping me in amazingly beautiful colorful fabrics the others were dressing me with earnings, necklaces, bindis and pinning different things on me while giggling at the same time. My host mom is so tiny (either that or I have seriously gained some weight) that they had to unstitch the seam of the top part of the sari in order for it to fit me. I kept saying don't do this, it's too much trouble but they were insistent and said ‘no no assooneh!’ (it’s easy) One I was fully dressed, the women insisted that I go around and visit each house in the village to show them how much I look like ‘an Indian girl.’ Each person wanted to take a picture with me and was so excited that an ‘American’ was wearing Indian clothing.
This was such a unique experience and more than anything was SOOOO MUCH FUN!!! It
’s so funny that when I first arrived in India, all I wanted to do was glamorous stuff like go to a Bollywood premier and parties. After this experience I realized that although I was in a rural village in a tiny room with no running water and electricity I have never felt so glamorous and special…so much more than a Bollywood premier. Sometimes things like this come to you when you least expect it!
Towards the end of my visit, my family had noticed that I was not drinking the water they offered and had my own bottled water. At first, I thought maybe they were insulted by this but then they told me that it’s better and I need to be careful with water so I don’t get sick. On the last day of my visit there I woke up in the morning to my host mom making chapatti, my dad sewing falls into the saris and their son, Kunal, ran through the door with a sealed bottle of water. I found out that they sent him a mile away on his bike to the closest store to buy me a bottle of water for the day. I honestly didn’t even know what to say and to offer to pay for it would completely degrade how kind it was of them to be so thoughtful as to think to go to a store just to buy me a bottle of water.
On the bus ride back to the town I live in, my host family arranged for me to go with somepeople in the village who were going the same direction so I would not have trouble getting back. Although I had just met them and they were doing me a few, they would not let me pay for a single dime of any of my bus fares. Although this is really not a lot of money in our eyes (maybe 60 cents), for them this is a lot of money and even with this, regardless of my insistence they would not let me pay and would say “you are a guest.”
Even since I have returned back to Rajgurunagar the family calls me every day, even with their VERY limited English to assure that I am ok. Honestly, no matter how hard I try to describe their kindness it is something that cannot be explained in words because so much of it was not actions or incidences but the feelings and emotions between people that supersede descriptions. I will be forever indebted to this family and the village for giving me one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had, teaching me so much about others and myself and giving me a refreshed perspective on life. They have touched my life in a way that I never imagined possible.
Last week, I was told by my organization that I would be going to visit a rural village and will be staying there for a few days in order to become familiar with the issues in a rural community and how self help groups and microfinance loans are affecting the lives of woman. Initially I was really nervous about this; I had no idea about the conditions or what to expect and this coupled with not having any control is really difficult. To ease my nerves a little I arranged to go with another MSW student placed at the organization I am working and as a result of our shared experiences in the village we are now really close friends.
From the very beginning of our journey it was an adventure starting with the transportation. In order to get to the village we had to take a bus to a small town and then since the village I was going to was so rural, we had to take a small jeep and ride with many farm workers and laborers to the village called Pargoan. Once I arrived I realized that although it was only about an hour or so from the town I am based it, it was worlds apart. The climate was a bit colder and the landscape was all farmlands; lush green and vibrant as a result of the rains. When we finally reached the village we were told to go to the house of the SHG (Self-Help Groups) president.
Initially, I felt really awkward about just showing up at someone's house and staying with a family that I didn’t know and could not even communicate with. Despite my apprehensions, from the second I stepped into this family’s home, I was showered with so much kindness, hospitality and caring; I have never experienced anything like this in my life. It was truly so incredible that words do not do it justice but I will do my best to describe and capture some bits and pieces of my experiences and observations over the last few days.
From the moment I met my host family they continuously told me “in our culture guests are gods and with you being here it is like a god has entered our home.” Every time I would try to help w
ith something they would swiftly say to me “Guests are god-now sit down.” They spent hours preparing special Maharashtran specialties each day for me, boiled water for my baths and most importantly treated me with such kindness and love. Every time I would say thank you to them they would tell me, “stop saying that, you are just like our own daughter.”On my first night in the village, I was sitting with the family late at night after our dinner as the rain was pouring outside and we had no power, with the light of a lantern I was showing them pictures of my family and Seattle. As I was telling them about my family and life back home in broken Marathi and English, the family’s older daughter, Neelam, looked at me an
d said “We are from such different worlds and even though your world might be better…you still came to see ours and that makes me really happy.” Her expression of this was so touching to me because I thought to myself that although people in the village are somewhat isolated, at the same time they realize that there is a world that is VERY different from the reality they are living in. I think that is something we as westerners often fail to recognize. We get so caught up in our own world and daily things that we cannot even comprehend lifestyles that are so vastly different than ours. For Neelam, sharing her world with someone from the outside and seeing the things that I value and appreciate about their lifestyle, I could sense made her feel proud and excited to share. Being in the village, when I would think about my life at home it was such a weird paradox yet at the same time Neelam’s right, not only did I come to see them but I was privileged that they let me in enough not only physically into their home but emotionally into their family and their hearts to experience the warmth and love the share with each other.Once I was done showing them the pictures we got ready for bed. At night we would lay down several blankets on the floor and all sleep all in a row (men separate from women) on the floor that is also the common kitchen, bedroom, eating area and sitting room. Half way through the night, I woke up to someone putting an extra blanket on me and I opened my eyes for a split second to see it was my host mom. I honestly cannot describe why but it was the most comforting feeling not only for the extra blankets but just the touch of someone caring enough to wake up in the middle of the night to tuck you in.
On my second night in the village, I was a bit nervous because my co-worker who was there with me up until that point was leaving and I would be in the village by myself. I was worried because of language barriers as well as being the only outsider in the village but again, my host family sensed my anxiety and did everything they possible could to put me at ease.
Since the moment I got there I was telling my host mom how much I love all the saris and how beautiful they are. To lift my spirits after my friend left, when we got back to the house she pulled out a suitcase full of saris and said you have to choose three to try on. Then in broken English and Marathi she told me she wants me to wear some different saris to take pictures with to send
to my family back home. As she opened the suitcase all I could see was an array of beautiful, bright colorful saris. It was so interested that within the household, everything was VERY minimal and nothing was at all excessive yet my host mom, Savita Tai had over 60 saris-all perfectly and neatly folded and stored. The family explained to me that twice a year, on Diwali and a holiday similar to Valentines Day, brothers give their sister a gift of a new sari and that is how she ended up with so many saris. As I was sitting among this heap of beautiful fabric I was so overwhelmed and exited that I couldn’t decide on any (I was like a kid in a candy shop and I’m cual es mejor). Before I knew it, Savita tai had selected the three that she decided would look best on me and about 20 women from the surrounding houses around the village showed up at the home to help dress me up. I honestly don’t even know how this news
traveled but the whole village knew about this. As one woman was wrapping me in amazingly beautiful colorful fabrics the others were dressing me with earnings, necklaces, bindis and pinning different things on me while giggling at the same time. My host mom is so tiny (either that or I have seriously gained some weight) that they had to unstitch the seam of the top part of the sari in order for it to fit me. I kept saying don't do this, it's too much trouble but they were insistent and said ‘no no assooneh!’ (it’s easy) One I was fully dressed, the women insisted that I go around and visit each house in the village to show them how much I look like ‘an Indian girl.’ Each person wanted to take a picture with me and was so excited that an ‘American’ was wearing Indian clothing.This was such a unique experience and more than anything was SOOOO MUCH FUN!!! It
’s so funny that when I first arrived in India, all I wanted to do was glamorous stuff like go to a Bollywood premier and parties. After this experience I realized that although I was in a rural village in a tiny room with no running water and electricity I have never felt so glamorous and special…so much more than a Bollywood premier. Sometimes things like this come to you when you least expect it!Towards the end of my visit, my family had noticed that I was not drinking the water they offered and had my own bottled water. At first, I thought maybe they were insulted by this but then they told me that it’s better and I need to be careful with water so I don’t get sick. On the last day of my visit there I woke up in the morning to my host mom making chapatti, my dad sewing falls into the saris and their son, Kunal, ran through the door with a sealed bottle of water. I found out that they sent him a mile away on his bike to the closest store to buy me a bottle of water for the day. I honestly didn’t even know what to say and to offer to pay for it would completely degrade how kind it was of them to be so thoughtful as to think to go to a store just to buy me a bottle of water.
On the bus ride back to the town I live in, my host family arranged for me to go with somepeople in the village who were going the same direction so I would not have trouble getting back. Although I had just met them and they were doing me a few, they would not let me pay for a single dime of any of my bus fares. Although this is really not a lot of money in our eyes (maybe 60 cents), for them this is a lot of money and even with this, regardless of my insistence they would not let me pay and would say “you are a guest.”
Even since I have returned back to Rajgurunagar the family calls me every day, even with their VERY limited English to assure that I am ok. Honestly, no matter how hard I try to describe their kindness it is something that cannot be explained in words because so much of it was not actions or incidences but the feelings and emotions between people that supersede descriptions. I will be forever indebted to this family and the village for giving me one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had, teaching me so much about others and myself and giving me a refreshed perspective on life. They have touched my life in a way that I never imagined possible.
8 comments:
Oh my god Rox, I am sooooooooo happy for you reading this made me cry. Just to know you are being taking care of. The blanket part made me sob. Thank them for me and tell them I am always grateful for what they did. Love you
Flora darling, this is the first one that made you cry? I cannot stop crying every time I read her blog! It is fascinating. I must say,it sounds to me like "A wish come true"... I know Roxy, how you always wanted and enjpyed doing something like this. It is just so wonderful that the experiences exceed your expectations and you are adapting so well. Most of all it is great to see that while experiencing you realize the worth of the enjotment (ghadresho meedooni). Please, can you take me to your other "mom" and "dad" one day? Is that possible??? Jessy, Your #1 Mom and I..... IMAGINE!!!!
Way to go girl..... AND MORE.....
xxxooxxoxoxo
H.
No my dear Sterling I cried every time I read it too. It is one of my wishes to go there with all of you and Tara too. And after that go to Iran. Oh just imagine.
I love this story Rox!! What an amazing experience. It made me cry as well! It sounds like this homestay was such a rich gift. What an amazing family!
Roxy Joon! What an amazing experience! I really enjoy reading all about it, and am so proud of you :) I hope to see you soon!
Love, Donna
Rox,
Reading your blog always reminds me of my time in Kenya- this one especially so since I can relate to the kindness of strangers, the simple joy and happiness you can find in such a foreign place with people you don't even know. It is quite powerful. I love reading your blogs. I was really moved and am glad you are having such great experiences.
Love you,
Anna
Oh Rox! This is one of the most beautiful stories. I love hearing about all of the women and how they care for you. And the sari story was amazing. It seems like a wonderful sense of community amongst the women. And what a caring family. So beautiful!
what is the name of village where you have visit this ??
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