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RELATEionships

My time in India is coming to an end. I have met so many relatives for the first time while I’ve been here. My mother has 35 first cousins, and I have met at least 85% of them and their mothers and their children. I have even met my parents’ long lost friends from India. I met one relative the other day, and she was talking a lot about how she LOVES India because of all the relatives. All the love. All the warmth. 

There’s definitely a strong sense of hospitality within Indian families. I have never been showered with so many gifts from people I am meeting for the first time. I expect it from my close relatives like the ones I share genes with. I don’t expect it from my distant relatives. Those of which I can’t pronounce their names and have no idea how we’re actually related. 

I really do appreciate the gifts and kind gestures from my extended family, but if you really know me, you know I don’t care much for material gifts. I am a firm believer of “it’s the thought that counts.” In fact, when distant relatives buy me a gift, I feel like it’s their way of showing love without actually creating the bond - like a “get-out-of-building-a-relationship-with-you-free” card. 

What I love more than any gift is when my aunt texts me about good books she’s been reading that reminded her of me. Or when my uncle calls to ask me about Teach for America because he wants to donate money to the cause because I’m a TFA corps member. Or when my cousin sends me silly Snapchats about alcohol with Shakira playing in the background because he knows Shakira and alcohol are my two favorite things. Little moments like that builds connection. Why? Because I can feel my relative isolating a part of me and trying to connect with that part. It shows that they do pay attention to who I am.They are taking the time and courage to relate and become vulnerable with me.  These small acts put the RELATE back in RELAT(E)ives. 

In Indian culture family is the most important thing in the world. I think Indians value family more than Americans. I say this because in India if you have a big family, you don’t need Social Security or pension or a retirement plan. You just move in with your kids once they start making money, and they take care of you until you kick the bucket. It’s perfectly normal and expected in Indian culture. So you see, family is quite valuable in Indian culture. No family = no place to live for free post retirement. 

But there’s something missing. It’s almost as if the Indian mind thinks, “Oh, you’re my grandmother’s sister’s child’s child! We’re related! You’re very important to me. I’ll be at your wedding.” Boom. Just like that. Even though I have never met this person and know nothing about them. 

And because of that type of reaction, I get vibes of insincerity. It’s the same feeling internationals get about people from the South. In Alabama, you’ll meet someone randomly at the bar or a conference, and became instant BFFs. Then right before you part ways, he/she will say, “It was so nice meeting you! We’ll have to do this again. See you soon!” And it’s probably more likely that you’ll never see that individual again. That’s the American thing to do. Totally normal. Totally insincere. Totally alabamamasala. 

So on this journey I have met relatives and our conversations have gone like this:

Long Lost Relative: So you don’t speak Konkani? Ohhh... (disappointing tone). 

Me: (Awkwardly standing there, doing that weird Indian head nod thing) Yah. 

Long Lost Relative: So you’re a teacher? Ohhh... (disappointing tone again).

Me: (Awkwardly standing there, doing that weird Indian head nod thing) Yah. 

Long Lost Relative: So you’re looking to get married?

Me: I don’t believe in marriage. 

Long Lost Relative: *BOOM!* (explosion due to over disappointment. End of discussion.)

Ha, just kidding. Those last three lines never took place, but one could justifiably assume that’s the type of dialogue that would have taken place if anyone asked me about my stance on marriage. 

Clearly these people know nothing about me and throw judgement before they grasp understanding. Now, I have met a few relatives and family friends that I have fallen in love with. Spunky, progressive, enlightening relatives. People I wish to have known before and will continue to keep in touch with. 

But then I’ve also met people that I am definitely not related to, but I feel like we’ve been close friends for decades. For example, one of my favorite parts of my trip was spending time with my long lost Mumbai friends. Last time I was in India (almost 10 years ago), I got really close to a few kids that lived in my Granny’s apartment building. I literally have not spoken to them in years, but as soon as I returned to Mumbai, we reunited, and it felt like old times again. Even better than old times. Every conversation was so rich with discussions about politics, culture, economics, religion, everything and anything under the sun. The conversations were organic and easy and hours would just fly by. Good conversation is so difficult to find these days, and good people are even more difficult to find. 

My relationship with my Mumbai friends felt much more authentic than those I have made with some of my relatives. Makes me wonder, do we use family (blood lineage) to excuse the relate aspect in the word “relatives?” Meaning, do we say, “Hey we’re genetically related so there’s no need to actually form a relationship with you! What more do you need than a common gene pool?”    

 Think about it, are you actually forming relationships with your brotherfathermotherdaughtersoncousinauntunclegrandparents the same way you form relationships with your friends? 

I’ve learned distance isn’t always measured in miles or kilometers. 

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RapeMeShirt

Disclaimer: I promise the title is more provocative than the actual post itself. 

My whole life and especially during this trip, I’ve always found the male/female dynamic in society fascinating. I want to say I’m a feminist, but that term has been warped and manipulated to have so many connotations that I have to be careful how I say it otherwise people just stop listening to me. So I am “a person who believes in the social, political, and economic equality of the sexes.” 

Sounds familiar, right?

That is Chimamanda Adichie’s dictionary definition of feminism from her We Should All be Feminists essay and also featured in Beyonce’s “Flawless” track. And that’s my type of feminist. Also, according to Roxanne Gay, I’d be considered “the bad feminist” which is basically just a woman who is living her dreams and doing what ever the fuck she wants to do and not shaming other women in the process. Also me, most of the time. And there’s nothing bad about being a “bad feminist.” Read the book. 

For most of you reading this, you’re probably like “womp, womp, womp...I know this already.” But I’m hoping someone is reading this and is like “Oh, I never knew. I’m enlightened. I’m a feminist too!” Because while society is evolving, some days I feel like I have a big scarlet “A” on my forehead. Particularly on this journey. 

So now that I’ve given you a vocabulary lesson, let’s get to the juicy stuff. If you want to study feminism or gender dynamics, Indian culture is a great place to start. I think India gave birth to feminism. Just check out Buzzfeed’s “11 Incredible Women From Indian History Who Should Be Your Role Models:”

1. Kittur Chennamma -- led an armed rebellion against the East India Company.

2. Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit -- the first woman (and first Indian) president of the United Nations General Assembly.

3. Savitribai Phule -- started India's first school for girls.

4. Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay -- social activist and Indian freedom fighter.

5. Captain Prem Mathur -- the first woman pilot in India.

6. Sarojini Naidu -- the "Nightingale of India."

7. Sucheta Kriplani, the first woman Chief Minister in India.

8. Asima Chatterjee -- the first Indian woman to receive the Doctorate of Science from an Indian university.

9. Justice Anna Chandy -- the first female judge in India, and the first woman in India to become a High Court judge.

10. Captain Lakshmi Sahgal -- Indian independence revolutionary.

11. Rani Lakshmibai -- led rebellion against the British.

Every other woman is a rebel! Like, France had Joan of Arc, but we had multiple Joans. This list doesn’t even include Indira Gandhi, first female prime minister of India. Honestly, she’s nothing compared to some of these ladies. 

So after doing a little research on Indian Women’s history, I thought, well damn, Indian men must worship the ground women walk on. They worship female gods so why not mortal females themselves.  

Not the case at all. Rape is the fourth most common crime against women in India. According to the National Crime Records Bureau 2013 annual report, 24,923 rape cases were reported across India in 2012. Out of these, 24,470 were committed by someone known to the victim (98% of the cases).

And I’ve done a grand job of making India seem like this 3rd world, bobo country. It’s definitely far from that. Rape stats in the U.S. are quite alarming, but that’s for a different blog. I just assumed in a country where women hold political and religious power, this wouldn’t be as large of an issue.

And what’s even more messed up is I’ve heard of women who were raped, and the perpetrator said things like “you were asking for it” because of the clothes she was wearing or because of the job she had. I didn’t know my clothes could say “Hey dude! Come here and rape me!” Apparently ladies, the RapeMeShirts are 50% off at your local H&M and 100% visible to men everywhere.

I’ve had plenty of guy friends look at girls and judge her by the way she’s dressed and been like, “Oh yeah, she’s asking for it.” And my response is “What language are you speaking because she’s not saying anything. She’s just standing there.” 

So subconsciously women are aware that men hear these weird invisible voices that say “Hey! Go undress that woman with your eyes and make her feel super uncomfortable. Yeah, she wants it!” so women start responding proactively by doing the following:

1. Dressing conservatively - no showing legs, chest, shoulders, belly or anything too fitting. Like I’ll awkwardly wear scarves with v-neck shirts to avoid looking too busty. 

2.  Don’t smile or be friendly toward men - You’re asking for it if you do!

3. Slut shame the women who break rule #1 or 2 - Because women are also conditioned to believe a woman is “asking for it” by the way she dresses (i.e. wearing the RapeMeShirt). Now, the RapeMeShirt goes from being a metaphor to being reality. It’s a full on clothing line at Body Central.

I slut shame. I’m trying consciously to stop. But I’ve realized it’s a product of hanging around too many guys who think girls are asking for something by the way they dress or walk or talk.   

BUT THIS IS WHAT GRINDS MY GEARS: Men can run shirtless or swim shirtless and it’s all good. Women, you wear just a sports bra to the gym...BOOM, RapeMeShirt. You’re a loose lady. Men, stare like they’ve never seen boobs before. And yes, I stare at dudes too, but I quickly look away before I get caught staring out of respect for the dude so he doesn’t feel violated. But apparently, guys don’t feel violated. They just get their egos fed. 

So in a nutshell, in India (and probably the rest of the world) women do certain things to avoid men from doing certain BAD things to women. The certain actions women take include: dressing a certain way, not walking alone at night, not taking a rickshaw at night alone, not living in a slightly sketchy part of town, carrying pepper spray, being mindful of her drink at parties, not being too nice, not being too mean, not having too many guy friends, etc. 

Apparently all these things can suggest something to guys that girls have no intention of suggesting. Who knew. And we do these things, not as a precaution to avoid getting mugged, but to avoid getting assaulted. Boys, you’re biologically equipped with a piping hot gun in your pants, and girls, all we got is MAN-made pepper spray. The irony.

And of course, this doesn’t apply to all guys, but many. Rape culture is so alive in this world. I was on a train traveling through southern India. And I felt someone tickling my feet in my sleep. I woke up. Some dude was tickling me and watching me sleep. WHAT THE FUCK. I wasn’t even wearing a RapeMeShirt. I was wearing a normal t-shirt. Athletic capris. No make-up. Drool hanging out my mouth. Creepy. But that was just 1 out of 100 guys creepily watching me on that train. And I get paranoid. And scared. And I don’t deserve that. No woman does. 

So fellas, rule of thumb. If she wants you, she’ll say “I want you.” If she doesn’t verbally say that, she doesn’t want you. 

Stop listening to the invisible voices. And if you’re going to rip off a piece of clothing, let it be the metaphorical RapeMeShirt so women can be liberated to be women

sans fear.

[canofsweetyams-blog]

Temple hopping like crazy! Got a little juice for my new blog! Title: The looseHindu Disclaimer: If you are deeply tied to your faith, this post may be a little offensive or a lot offensive. I don't know. I'm just giving a friendly warning. 😙 Enjoy! alabamamasala.tumblr.com

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A rickshaw drive that is equivalent to my dating life. 

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The Jungle. 

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The more I try to explain myself, the less I understand myself.

Eugène Ionesco, Fragments of a Journal (via wordsnquotes)

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‘Am I crazy?’ she asked. ‘I feel like I am sometimes.’ 'Maybe,’ he said, rubbing her forehead. 'But don’t worry about it. You need to be a little bit crazy. Crazy is the price you pay for having an imagination. It’s your superpower. Tapping into the dream. It’s a good thing, not a bad thing.’

Ruth Ozeki, A Tale for the Time Bein (via wordsnquotes)

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Let’s take a minute to talk about

Septima Poinsette Clark (May 3, 1898—December 15, 1987)

Septima Poinsette Clark was a civil rights and education activist. Originally barred from teaching in Charleston, SC schools because she was Black, Clark petitioned for that right in 1920. She won. And she did it while teaching children during the day and adults at night in a nearby town. MLK Jr. refers to her as “The Mother of the Movement”. 

Mae C. Jemison (October 17, 1956)

Mae C. Jemison was not only the first Black woman in space, she was the first Black female astronaut for NASA ever. She launched in the Endeavor in 1992, just 25 years ago. 

Maria Weems (1840—?)

Above is Anna Maria Weems, a woman who escaped slavery by posing as a male. With a $500 reward for her capture, Weems spent over two months on the road until she found freedom in Canada. This art comes courtesy of the Smithsonian Libraries’ (@smithsonianlibraries) yearly celebration of BHM, which includes stories, art, personal histories, and lots more from their massive collection.

Follow these too:

Black Women Art (@fyblackwomenart​) has been around since 2012 (!), giving anyone who follows them a regular dose of art featuring Black women.

Badass Black Women History Month (@bbwhm​) is a brand new Tumblr celebrating badass Black women every day for Black History Month. Hell yeah.

There are more in the search results, of course. More Black women in STEM, in music, in sports, standing up for their rights, and have you read up on the Motorcycle Queen of Miami? One thing to note: some of these posts aren’t just highlighting women from 10, 20, 30, 100 years ago. They’re also highlighting Black women today, because Black women are still making history.