Taaza Tea, etc.

Today will be chalked up as first day of truly strange experiences.

I woke up to a monsoon, which appeared to be a light rain for a long period of time, until it was actually pouring for the next 5 hours, and then it continued to rain after that, but not as hard. Relatedly, we had a hilarious drive in the car. In addition to the regular issues of Indian traffic, there was the added 6-12 inches of water on some of the streets. This caused cars to break down, bikers to get soaked, and general chaos.

We then went to a women’s empowerment competition held by Taaza Tea (not to corporate advertise for them or anything). It was a competition for women to gain an experiential scholarship from non-profit organizations, including NIRMAN (thus why we were there). As a form of feminism, it was very strange. Of course, my book-laden brain thought to Muslim feminism when I saw women in burqas at the event. However, there were other weird things going on: the competition only offered events like cooking and handicrafts, which is to say that women were judged according to their skills in the kitchen. And then additional problems form as the women would only gain economic independence as a result of said competition, and that these economic “rights” may actually be subsumed by her husband’s rights.

Backing off from feminist theory though, there was a bonus of getting free chai samples, listening to the same 5 minute video repeat for 6 hours, getting henna all over my left hand and arm (if you’re interested, I definitely have one showing off how jacked I am). However, this whole process was incredibly strange for several reasons: (1) not speaking Hindi, there was a language barrier and I often had absolutely no idea what was going on, (2) the strange tourist phenomenon.

So here is the strange tourist phenomenon. As a visitor to India, one would expect that I would take many pictures of everything and everyone as I attempted to soak in my surroundings. Instead, I found myself photographed in a manner of ways: discreetly as someone pretended to be somewhat interested in my decorated arm, discreetly as someone took my picture while he imagined that I wasn’t looking, overtly as I sat, with my permission, without. Instead of being a tourist, I became an attraction in myself.

Food excursions today:

Indian Chinese Food- not like American.