Here I stand in front of 200+ college age Indians hooting, and before me a Nepali boy kneeling, with one hand holding a microphone and the other stretched out to me. How do I get myself into these situations? Oh, I remember now.
Four other students and I made a trip to Kakinada, a city 200 km away from Vizag, as special guests of the Vice Chancellor of Jawaharl Nehru Technological University-Kakinada. The Vice Chancellor, Allam Apa Rao, is an incredibly generous man, and a good friend of both Krishnayya, and Dr. Nuckolls (program director). For every batch of BYU students that have come on this program he has invited them for an all expense paid trip to Kakinada. As special guests, we stay in the University guest house, where each room has Air Conditioning, and hot water (a rare thing anywhere in India). I could say without apprehension that I was excited to go to Kakinada.
It's Thursday and the day has come for us to go to Kakinada. I wasn't the only one excited to go to Kakinada either. One of our cooks, sixteen year old Silazaa is from Kakinada. Silu is cousins with our washerman Razu, so when circumstances required it, her mother took her out of school and sent her to Vizag to work in the program as a cook. She, for the past couple weeks, had been missing her mother dearly. So Krishnayya promised that when we made our trip to Kakinada, that she could join us to visit her mother.
She had dressed up in her nicest Salwar Kameez, and was directing our driver through Kakinada to get to her home. Her excited face brightening up as we neared her house, and saw the familiar faces of her neighborhood. I was happy to see that she lived in what looked like a much better than decent area of town. The car stopped in front of an alley that led past a half dozen houses, and at the end, a hut, her
home. It wasn't entirely what I was expecting, but I was more surprised than I ought to have been. She walked to the hut and brought her mother back with her. She and Krishnayya exchanged a few words in Telugu, and Silu pointed each one of us out and we each said hi. As we left she waved enthusiastically, very obviously happy to see her mother.
At JNTU, we settled into our rooms at the guest house and were then quickly taken to a couple classes so we could interact with the students meaning we stood in front to talk about ourselves, our time in India, our studies, blah blah blah. "Just talk" Krishnayya said. We each took time to talk about where we were from, what we do in America, what our projects are on here, our favorite foods, and favorite things about India. I have found that people react well when you talk about their pop culture, so when I mentioned that my favorite Tollywood Hero was Siddharth, and my favorite movie was Chatrapati, I got some good feedback from the students--including applause. The applause was even better when I told them that I had found missing pieces of my heart in India. "AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!" was the phrase that kept popping up in my
mind.
It was made clear weeks before we left, that as a thank you we should sing a song or something similar at the forum that would take place Friday night. To my relief, Sam and Amy are both dancers, willing to perform a number or two, and Jaci wanting to sing a song--Glo and I were off the hook! Psych. On arriving at the University, it was explained that they were anticipating a 30 minute performance, instead of 10 like we had planned. Amy and Sam were able to add another few minutes, but they definitely needed everyone's help. After dinner, the rest of the night was spent scrounging up things that we could do to add to our program.
Friday morning came, we ate breakfast, rehearsed, went to another class to talk more, ate lunch, napped, then performance time. Props and music were ready to go, and so were we.
The auditorium where we were performing had a large banner that read "International Cultural Celebration." Already this was a bigger deal than I had thought. The Vice-Chancellor spoke on international relations and their importance, followed by a few other department heads, as well as Krishnayya. We were asked to come up, and take a picture with the VC as we each received shawls as a token from the school. Then it was show time!
In the time we arrived to the time we were supposed to perform, more than 200 students had shown up to watch. We ran with the international approach, and started with introducing ourselves, where we were from and for those that come from cultural backgrounds, would talk about their heritage (Sam being latino, and Glo polynesian), and do something in accord to our home state. I being from Washington spoke about the agriculture, and proceeded to break a number of apples in half with my bare hands. Sam sang a mariachi song, and Glo did a lovely Hula dance.
Jaci then sang "Go the Distance" to begin our "Journey to India". On our "journey" we would visit a number of other countries through folk dances that Sam and Amy knew from their performance in "Christmas Around the World" at BYU. They were absolute troopers, dancing one dance after another in the extreme humidity. They wrapped up their last folk dance, then it was my turn.
"And now we reach our final destination: India. A place where we have each found little pieces of our hearts. Thank you for making us feel so welcome, and thank you for having us."
As soon as the song came on, the "CROWD WENT WILD". Then we started dancing. "Oh! Oh! I think their faces are melting off! Oh, I have never seen such a sight!"
The night before I had put together a sort of Bollywood line dance, using moves from my short stint in Bollywood (see Becoming a "Yes!" Woman). After searching my rather large selection of Indian music, I found the perfect song, a remix of Premalekhanu Raasenu, a rather popular song heard often on the radio. Yes, it was epic.
We took our bows and sat down. Then it was the rest of the students turn to entertain us. One of the students stood, a boy we recognized from one of the classrooms we visited (who spoke too much if I say so myself). He was from Nepal, and therefore not a native Telugu speaker. He took the microphone and announced that he would like to have a Telugu speaking competition with us. All five of us jumped saying "No, no, no. You would win."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that yet." He proceeded to speak, although in English I still couldn't understand what he was saying, but I did understand the words "Katrina Kaif". I knew immediately what he was saying.
I have been told a number of times that I look like a Bollywood celebrity named Katrina Kaif. I don't see it. And I really don't like it when people tell me that, and its rather embarrassing. Its especially embarrassing when he asked me to stand in front of a large group of people, and wave because I look like her. Flustered, and likely bright red, I stood and waved, hoping that this wouldn't last long. As I went to sit, he told me to wait. He talked more, and from embarrassment couldn't hear what he said. Then I heard "so, here we go."
Here I stand in front of 200+ college age Indians hooting, and before me a Nepali boy kneeling, with one hand holding a microphone and the other stretched out to me, speaking in Telugu, and what looks like proposing. How did I get myself into this situation?
I shake my head. I wave my hands. I make all the motions of "Ohnonononono".
"What do you say to that?"
The waving continues. He turns to the crowd, "what should she say?"
A loud and booming "NO!" is heard from the crowd.
He laughs and turns back to me. "What do you say?"
I mumble a little, and say "No."
The next morning, we are back in the car, picking up Silu on our way back to Vizag. She comes to the car, still bright and shining with joy from seeing her mother. Neither of us speak the same language, but we both are extremely happy to see each other. Krishnayya proceeds to explain to me the dynamics of arranged marriages. Silazaa has been betrothed practically since birth. It is common in arranged marriages to be betrothed to some relative, Uncle or cousin the most common. In Silazaa's case she is betrothed to another of her cousins. She was attending school in Kakinada, and her betrothed decided that he did not want her to get an education--another common thing for men to wish of their betrothed, hence her presence in Vizag. Whether it is on purpose or not, the men will usually flip flop in their decision to actually marry their betrothed or not. There are many reasons that a man can say he is unpleased by the current arrangement, dowry and education being the main complaints. "The girls family will jump through hoops to ensure their daughters marriage, and they will be tortured." It breaks my heart to think that Silu is one of those girls, and know that she is going to end up in an unhappy marriage and life.
Not all India is good, and not all is bad. There are daily reminders of that. I accepted that there are parts of this culture that I do not understand, and never will. There will be things that I want to change, but cannot and should not, because it is not right for me to say that my way of life is better than another's. It is not right to impose my standards on others. But as much as I believe this, I will always wish that I could have done something more for the girl in India who made me laugh, and shared her youthful bright smile and joy with me. For her, I will appreciate the gift I have to choose.
Four other students and I made a trip to Kakinada, a city 200 km away from Vizag, as special guests of the Vice Chancellor of Jawaharl Nehru Technological University-Kakinada. The Vice Chancellor, Allam Apa Rao, is an incredibly generous man, and a good friend of both Krishnayya, and Dr. Nuckolls (program director). For every batch of BYU students that have come on this program he has invited them for an all expense paid trip to Kakinada. As special guests, we stay in the University guest house, where each room has Air Conditioning, and hot water (a rare thing anywhere in India). I could say without apprehension that I was excited to go to Kakinada.
It's Thursday and the day has come for us to go to Kakinada. I wasn't the only one excited to go to Kakinada either. One of our cooks, sixteen year old Silazaa is from Kakinada. Silu is cousins with our washerman Razu, so when circumstances required it, her mother took her out of school and sent her to Vizag to work in the program as a cook. She, for the past couple weeks, had been missing her mother dearly. So Krishnayya promised that when we made our trip to Kakinada, that she could join us to visit her mother.
She had dressed up in her nicest Salwar Kameez, and was directing our driver through Kakinada to get to her home. Her excited face brightening up as we neared her house, and saw the familiar faces of her neighborhood. I was happy to see that she lived in what looked like a much better than decent area of town. The car stopped in front of an alley that led past a half dozen houses, and at the end, a hut, her
home. It wasn't entirely what I was expecting, but I was more surprised than I ought to have been. She walked to the hut and brought her mother back with her. She and Krishnayya exchanged a few words in Telugu, and Silu pointed each one of us out and we each said hi. As we left she waved enthusiastically, very obviously happy to see her mother.
At JNTU, we settled into our rooms at the guest house and were then quickly taken to a couple classes so we could interact with the students meaning we stood in front to talk about ourselves, our time in India, our studies, blah blah blah. "Just talk" Krishnayya said. We each took time to talk about where we were from, what we do in America, what our projects are on here, our favorite foods, and favorite things about India. I have found that people react well when you talk about their pop culture, so when I mentioned that my favorite Tollywood Hero was Siddharth, and my favorite movie was Chatrapati, I got some good feedback from the students--including applause. The applause was even better when I told them that I had found missing pieces of my heart in India. "AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!" was the phrase that kept popping up in my
mind.
It was made clear weeks before we left, that as a thank you we should sing a song or something similar at the forum that would take place Friday night. To my relief, Sam and Amy are both dancers, willing to perform a number or two, and Jaci wanting to sing a song--Glo and I were off the hook! Psych. On arriving at the University, it was explained that they were anticipating a 30 minute performance, instead of 10 like we had planned. Amy and Sam were able to add another few minutes, but they definitely needed everyone's help. After dinner, the rest of the night was spent scrounging up things that we could do to add to our program.
Friday morning came, we ate breakfast, rehearsed, went to another class to talk more, ate lunch, napped, then performance time. Props and music were ready to go, and so were we.
The auditorium where we were performing had a large banner that read "International Cultural Celebration." Already this was a bigger deal than I had thought. The Vice-Chancellor spoke on international relations and their importance, followed by a few other department heads, as well as Krishnayya. We were asked to come up, and take a picture with the VC as we each received shawls as a token from the school. Then it was show time!
In the time we arrived to the time we were supposed to perform, more than 200 students had shown up to watch. We ran with the international approach, and started with introducing ourselves, where we were from and for those that come from cultural backgrounds, would talk about their heritage (Sam being latino, and Glo polynesian), and do something in accord to our home state. I being from Washington spoke about the agriculture, and proceeded to break a number of apples in half with my bare hands. Sam sang a mariachi song, and Glo did a lovely Hula dance.
Jaci then sang "Go the Distance" to begin our "Journey to India". On our "journey" we would visit a number of other countries through folk dances that Sam and Amy knew from their performance in "Christmas Around the World" at BYU. They were absolute troopers, dancing one dance after another in the extreme humidity. They wrapped up their last folk dance, then it was my turn.
"And now we reach our final destination: India. A place where we have each found little pieces of our hearts. Thank you for making us feel so welcome, and thank you for having us."
As soon as the song came on, the "CROWD WENT WILD". Then we started dancing. "Oh! Oh! I think their faces are melting off! Oh, I have never seen such a sight!"
The night before I had put together a sort of Bollywood line dance, using moves from my short stint in Bollywood (see Becoming a "Yes!" Woman). After searching my rather large selection of Indian music, I found the perfect song, a remix of Premalekhanu Raasenu, a rather popular song heard often on the radio. Yes, it was epic.
We took our bows and sat down. Then it was the rest of the students turn to entertain us. One of the students stood, a boy we recognized from one of the classrooms we visited (who spoke too much if I say so myself). He was from Nepal, and therefore not a native Telugu speaker. He took the microphone and announced that he would like to have a Telugu speaking competition with us. All five of us jumped saying "No, no, no. You would win."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that yet." He proceeded to speak, although in English I still couldn't understand what he was saying, but I did understand the words "Katrina Kaif". I knew immediately what he was saying.
I have been told a number of times that I look like a Bollywood celebrity named Katrina Kaif. I don't see it. And I really don't like it when people tell me that, and its rather embarrassing. Its especially embarrassing when he asked me to stand in front of a large group of people, and wave because I look like her. Flustered, and likely bright red, I stood and waved, hoping that this wouldn't last long. As I went to sit, he told me to wait. He talked more, and from embarrassment couldn't hear what he said. Then I heard "so, here we go."
Here I stand in front of 200+ college age Indians hooting, and before me a Nepali boy kneeling, with one hand holding a microphone and the other stretched out to me, speaking in Telugu, and what looks like proposing. How did I get myself into this situation?
I shake my head. I wave my hands. I make all the motions of "Ohnonononono".
"What do you say to that?"
The waving continues. He turns to the crowd, "what should she say?"
A loud and booming "NO!" is heard from the crowd.
He laughs and turns back to me. "What do you say?"
I mumble a little, and say "No."
The next morning, we are back in the car, picking up Silu on our way back to Vizag. She comes to the car, still bright and shining with joy from seeing her mother. Neither of us speak the same language, but we both are extremely happy to see each other. Krishnayya proceeds to explain to me the dynamics of arranged marriages. Silazaa has been betrothed practically since birth. It is common in arranged marriages to be betrothed to some relative, Uncle or cousin the most common. In Silazaa's case she is betrothed to another of her cousins. She was attending school in Kakinada, and her betrothed decided that he did not want her to get an education--another common thing for men to wish of their betrothed, hence her presence in Vizag. Whether it is on purpose or not, the men will usually flip flop in their decision to actually marry their betrothed or not. There are many reasons that a man can say he is unpleased by the current arrangement, dowry and education being the main complaints. "The girls family will jump through hoops to ensure their daughters marriage, and they will be tortured." It breaks my heart to think that Silu is one of those girls, and know that she is going to end up in an unhappy marriage and life.
Not all India is good, and not all is bad. There are daily reminders of that. I accepted that there are parts of this culture that I do not understand, and never will. There will be things that I want to change, but cannot and should not, because it is not right for me to say that my way of life is better than another's. It is not right to impose my standards on others. But as much as I believe this, I will always wish that I could have done something more for the girl in India who made me laugh, and shared her youthful bright smile and joy with me. For her, I will appreciate the gift I have to choose.
You got me misty with the missing pieces of your heart but that last bit had me running for the tissue box. xo, Aunt J
ReplyDeleteWhat a fine tribute to Silu....
ReplyDelete