*picture to the left* 3 generations of women in Florences family; grandma, florence (center), and her mom (whom I refer to as 'auntie')
These are pictures of the 2 rooms inside the house....to the left is the bedroom and common room: if you look closely the bed that I slept on is in the bottom left corner. The picture below is the entrance/kitchen/eating area.
So last week when I went to dinner at Florence’s family’s house her family was insistent that I stay the night. Seeing as I was going to Belur at 6am that did not sound appealing at all (considering I hadn’t yet packed either). So a compromise took place: I would travel with the family to Florence’s mothers’ native village to visit Florence who is staying with her grandmother (moms’ mom) because she is taking classes to get her confirmation.
I was requested to come to Florence’s house by 1:30p to have some lunch and then depart. Her mom (“Auntie”) called me at least 4 times the morning of detailing what she made me for lunch, and various other details…..I could definitely tell that she was beyond thrilled to have me come—she’s perhaps one step below obsessed when it comes to me. She made me a veg. curry and chapatti and some sort of egg curry. I eventually discovered that only autie and Florence’s younger brother, Francis, were coming with me. Her older brother and father had work. We suited up and headed towards the train station. On our way we stopped and autie bought me some goa fruit (which I must say is DELISCIOUS!) It’s about the size of a lemon, its green, has the texture of cantaloupe and tastes uniquely sweet. We reached the train station and I must say the train station alone was quite an experience—there was one set of tracks which was below the platforms in a pit. To buy a ticket one must jump down into the pit of tracks and climb back up the other side, then repeat this to get back to the platform. Watching elderly Indian women in Sarris (the most constrictive dress ever!) attempt this feat was not only entertaining, but quite humorous. I’ve realized that in India everything seems to be so inefficient, but somehow everything gets done. A fact that has yet ceased to amaze me!
After about an hour of waiting our train pulled into the station. We quickly boarded and searched for a seat…unfortunately there were none, so we were forced to find a little niche by a window to sit on the muck-covered floor. It was nice watching out the window but the train stopped several times, each time picking up more passengers and seemingly losing none. Towards the last ½ hr of our trip (it was a 3 hr train ride) the train cars were completely jam-packed. An elderly lady was sitting on my feet, and a little baby was handed to me while the mother held the other two of her young children. Auntie held her luggage, Francis held mine, and I held a stranger’s baby; something you would probably never find in America! Eventually my feet went numb first, then slowly my legs, and finally my tailbone and entire derrière. I found myself daydreaming and realized that this was just a small fraction of how the Jews being shipped off to concentration camps must have felt. I know it sounds terrible and very crude but it was definitely a sobering thought. I tried to imagine being on that train for days at a time as crowded as it was with the stench of urine, feces, throw up, and fear. How humiliating it must have been to have to relieve yourself right there in front of everyone, and how the fear in the air must have hung like a thick stench…..
I awoke from my daydreaming to the sound of the train whistle and auntie telling me that it was time to get off and board a different train. It was mass chaos!! I handed the baby to another passenger, got off, and the three of us quickly jumped into a train pit and climbed back onto another platform where our next train was blowing its whistle…auntie was in a sari so I carried the luggage from train to train while Francis helped her down and up the pit onto the next platform. The train started to slowly pull away and the three of us started to frantically run after it. Auntie was first, she was pulled on by some men standing in the doorway, then I was next, the men took the luggage from me, and then pulled me up, and Francis ended up boarding in a different cart. I felt like it was a scene from a movie, and I can now say that I have boarded a moving train! Once on the new train most of the passengers were heading to the same village as we were, and spoke auntie’s native language. They all looked curiously at me and started to ask auntie questions…now I’m used to being stared at, but not being the center of attention. Literally all eyes on the train were on me. If they weren’t talking to auntie about me, they were leaning in to hear what she had. All in a language I couldn’t understand. Looking back at the visit in its entirety, I now realize that this was just a preview for the rest of the trip. All the women made a fuss over me to auntie and I could tell that she loved the attention and just ate it up. Instead of pretending to be interested because I really couldn’t understand a word, I spent the duration of the train ride looking out the window as the city got further and further away, and the villages passed by my window.
Now I’ve seen rural India from my plane window, a car window, and a train window on my various trips throughout India, but I’ve not once experienced it firsthand. The majority of India is rural and I had not experienced the majority in 3 months! The train pulled into the KGF station (if you can call it that) and we exited the train. Once again the routine of climbing in and out of track pits was necessary to get to where we needed to go. We found several autos eagerly waiting to take train passengers to their homes. We grabbed an auto and drove through the dirt roads of the village. Many children looked into the auto with amazement because they have never before seen white skin in person. Many other’s on the street blatantly stopped what they were doing to stare as we drove past, and that was the instant I knew that I was no longer anywhere near the city. We pulled up to a small alley, and I followed auntie and Francis through a crevice of small doors amidst trash and dirt. The small space and the broken down houses reminded me a lot of the houses from the slums. Auntie finally stopped at a door and entered. My first reaction was “wow….this should be interesting…” but I have to say I was interested in staying there for the night to get a taste of what real India is like. We entered and the first sensation I felt was heat. It was about 10 degrees hotter inside than out, and quite stuffy. No electricity which means no fans, no AC, no lights, nada. Tattered pictures of Jesus and various other saints adorned the walls along with prayer beads and random crosses. It was her sister’s house; a two room house with one bed, and the other room used strictly for kitchen duties. Upon arrival I felt extremely tired and requested a nap. I slept for about an hour and when I eventually woke up auntie was rearing to go to show me off to all her friends and family.
The next 4 hours consisted of meet-and-greets of basically 12 different households in the village. We started at her mother’s house and her mother provided me with some banana chips which she had prepared and some tea to sip as well. She asked if she could prepare me dinner, but auntie told her that we would be having dinner at her sister’s. We then ventured next door to her brother’s house where I met her brother and his family. When I walked in he immediately sent his son to fetch me some soda and chocolate. I talked very little because it was difficult for him to them to understand my American accent, so auntie did most of the talking in Tamil. He then asked me if I would honor them by staying for dinner…once again auntie replied that her sister was making us dinner—a recurring incident throughout the night. Over the next few hours we repeated this same ceremony of introduction, snacks of various sorts for me, auntie rattling off everything she knows about me in Tamil, and then me being offered dinner and auntie refusing the offer for me. As we walked from house to house everyone walked out of their houses to see ‘the white girl’—I was the biggest thing to happen to this village and I felt like we were a parade with spectators. Seriously, all of the streets we walked along were filled with spectators emerging from their houses just to get a glimpse of the only white person they have ever seen! By the time we headed home I was completely stuffed full of snacks, and not at all wanting dinner; but I knew that dinner was mandatory and to refuse would be of the highest offense. I don’t remember the last time I ate so much!
I had been holding my pee all night but I knew that I could not maintain this the entire night without some serious damage to my bladder, so I finally broke down and asked auntie to show me the bathroom. I did this right before bed which was a huge mistake. She opened up a cellar-looking door and handed me a candle….I stepped inside with the candle and instantly froze…the entire ceiling and all the walls were completely covered in cockroaches. It still gives me shivers thinking about it. And I have to say it takes A LOT of talent to use an eastern toilet, with a candle, and cockroaches everywhere but being the smarty pants that I am, I dripped some wax on the floor to hold the candle upright and then proceeded about my business. I was in such a hurry that I peed all over my foot (nothing new) but thankfully none of the cockroaches fell on me. The rest of the night I kept thinking about cockroaches climbing all over me, and had wished that I hadn’t gone to the bathroom so close to bedtime.
If thoughts of cockroaches didn’t keep me awake, the heat, the small sleeping space, the wooden slab that was my bed and Florence certainly did. Florence and I shared the only bed in the house which was smaller than a twin bed. I was pinned up against the concrete wall with the sweltering heat and Florence’s small body trapping me. She constantly turned over and would kick me or put her arms on me but it didn’t matter much because I wasn’t going to get much sleep anyhow. The wooden slab caused my back to ache and I could literally feel the sweat forming at my brow and soaking the back of my shirt. My entire right side was numb from being so compacted against the wall, and was also completely soaked in sweat. Around sunrise I nodded off to sleep, only to be awoken about an hour later by a cow….a very smart cow at that! He had unlatched the door from the outside, head-butted it open was drinking the families water supply. The house was in immediate commotion as some tried to shoo the cow out of the house, while others tried to rescue the drinking water (that I now mentally knew not to accept any of for the duration of my stay.) I have to say it was quite an entertaining way to wake up, and I wouldn’t have expected anything less from my village visit.
The train ride back to Bangalore was uneventful as I sat again on the floor of the train and nodded off as strangers filled the cars up again as packed as it was on the way to KGF. We finally reached Bangalore and I must say after my trip to KGF I realize just how much I’ve been spoiled here in Bangalore. Or just how much I'm spoiled back home in the US! I was dirty, greasy, queasy, but thankful for the experience. It def. opened up my eyes to what real India is like, and how the majority of India live. KGF was better than any poverty experiment that I could have conducted, and more eye opening than any other experience that I’ve had here in India.
So in summary, I am soo thankful for the experience and believe that it was divine will for me to go to KGF. Once again I'm left astounded at how God’s will weaves in and out of my life like a silver thread bringing together the seemingly small and insignificant details together to create a beautiful tapestry that is my life. The fact that I should meet Florence, that she should invite me home, and that I should be invited to KGF with her family….it all just fits together so beautifully and my breath is taken away.
Ephesians 3:20-21
“Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever! Amen”
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