That morning, I sat at the dining room table working on this blog. Vinay and his mother sat at the dinner room table with me while speaking with Neeta (I just found out I have been misspelling her name this entire time) who was preparing breakfast. They are speaking in Malayalam.
Vinay grew up speaking in four different languages: Hindi, Malayalam, English, and Marathi. Of course, Hindi is the official language of India; however, Malayalam, a completely different language, is mostly spoken within Chandrapur. Vinay gave me Rosetta Stone in Hindi to learn a few words, but Malayalam is spoken by so few people in the world, I have yet to locate a learning kit or textbook in the United States to help me learn the language. While the rest of his family understands English, only Neeta speaks it fluently, everyone else is more comfortable conversing in Malayalam. It is difficult for me to become acquainted with his mother and younger sister, Neena, because of the language barrier. I am constantly unsure of my words, and even when they attempt to converse with me in English, I often have to turn to Vinay for translation due to their heavy accents.
I hope that I can pick up some words over time. I feel welcomed into their family, but I understand little of their family dynamics and how they interact because of the language and cultural barriers.
Not too long after breakfast, Vinay announced there was no running water; something was broken that would require a repairman to fix. This brought about all new experiences for me. Luckily, Vinay’s mother is resourceful in storing water when it is available, in case something like this should happen. It is all around the house, in buckets in the bathrooms, in metal pots and pans in the kitchen, and in a huge trash can like container. For the first time in my life, I used some of this stored water to bathe out of a bucket. I also found that the toilet required manual flushing by pouring water into the bowl. It was the first time that I truly recognized the convenience and importance of running water and the plumbing system available within most Western cultures.
Today I am feeling quite a bit of culture shock. I am also seeing for the first time, a different side of Vinay.
Vinay and I rode the motor bike to visit a friend. Here is the picture of the bike:
During this visit, I gained more insight into the environmental conditions in Chandrapur and the significance of my traveling to the city. His friend, Amit, along with his older brother, spoke a sufficient amount of English. From our conversation, I learned that Chandrapur is an industrial town, closely surrounded by three coal mines (with Chandrapur itself sitting atop one), three cement factories, two paper mills, and other industrial plants. It is the pollutants from these factories that pervade the streets. His friends also informed me that they have never known a Western woman to experience this part of India and be willing to return because the environmental conditions are so undesirable. Many are curious to see whether or not I will.
Later that day, Neeta and Vinay decided to introduce me to the Indian market. I doubt my attempts to describe the market or the shopping centers in Chandrapur will be anywhere near adequate. The streets were lined on either side with fruit and vegetable carts. Some women spread blankets on the floor to display their wares. The crowd was so thick with Indians reaching and pushing for their needed merchandise that it was difficult to move. Insects pranced around the produce and everything was dirty. I walked by one stand of vegetables, only to see a pile of trash lying open on the street only a few feet away. It was hard for me, who has only ever heard of such things, to stomach. Here are some pictures:
Some other items, besides food hung and sold at the market:
The crowd at the market quickly became aware of my presence. I might as well have been a celebrity. Vendors started hollering at me, “Auntie, Auntie” (a respectful title, like ma’am), and motioning me to their table. The people of Chandrapur assume several things about me; first, that I am a foreigner from the West, that I must have a wealth of money, and that I have a sympathetic heart. Hoards of men and women literally stopped on the street to turn and point at me. I saw children tugging at their mother’s dress, “Look!” I have never had so much attention in my life. Actually, I was a little frightened. Vinay held my hand tightly and Neeta walked by my other side, forming a protective shield.
The man in this picture was especially excited to see me, he specifically asked me to take his and his friend's photograph. (The man who asked is sitting on the left hand side of the picture:
He also inquired if it was okay for him to take mine and Vinay's. Vinay and I posed for him:
Vinay has received almost as much attention has I have. Everyone wonders, what is he doing with this girl?
After the market, we ventured down the street into a couple of stores, with the ever prevalent dust and grime of the street permeating every inch of air. I could smell sweat and trash, even taste the dirt of Chandrapur inside every store.
Here are a few pictures I took of the streets as we walked about:
Here are some pictures of the street depicting the chaos. We were sitting in the auto rickshaw.
Animals are often seen hanging out on the roads:
This is a picture of a shoe store that Vinay and Neeta walked into:
This particular shop was, Vinay said, a specialty store, more expensive than others. On the right, sacks of flour and sugar sat in the corner waiting for the prospective buyer:
On the left, shelves were stacked of boxes and cans of food.
Files covered the floor. I took a few pictures:
We bought several things before wandering to an electronic store. Our purpose was to buy a blow dryer, because apparently the dryer I bought from the states does not work in India due to a different voltage system. The electrical plug was even shaped differently. Vinay pointed out the blow dryer we wanted, and the sales clerk proceeded to remove it from the box. He displayed it for inspection, and even plugged it in to demonstrate its ability. Then haggling over the price commenced. Apparently, ever price can be negotiated in Chandrapur. Here are some pictures from the electronic store:
Upon returning home, Vinay took me to meet the children Neena tutors every afternoon. They had been informed of my arrival and were apparently dying to meet me. I entered his sister’s home to find 30 pairs of nervous, yet curious eyes carefully watching me. I waved hello to them and a few faces broke into a smile. All the children appeared to be under the age of 12. Neena had been made aware of my efforts to learn Hindi, and the children requested that I share with them my new skills. I meticulously counted my way from 1 to 10 in Hindi. The children laughed gleefully. I am sure they were quite amused at hearing a foreign accent.
Darkness was starting to fall over Chandrapur when we returned home.
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