Holy cow

Okay, so that’s not the most original title, but it’s apt.  There really are cows roaming around everywhere.  These two, for instance, are outside the gate at my office.  But India’s a study in contradictions: The cows are holy, but they go uncared for, forced to feed on garbage. 

 

The people in the office at my volunteer assignment are very hospitable, calling to make sure I’ve eaten dinner, bringing English language books for me to borrow, even offering to accompany me out shopping.  A lovely offer, but I need to learn to be on my own here.  And there’s another contradiction: On the one hand, such warm people, going out of the way to ensure my comfort.

  On the other, when I’m out doing the shopping on my own I’ve insisted upon, I’m positive that I’m being taken advantage of, being charged higher prices because I’m a Westerner. 

 

Last weekend I shopped for Indian-style clothing, and the store clerks literally followed me around at close range.  Thankfully I’d learned at orientation that a) I should expect to be stared at -- I stand out, and there’s no avoiding it; and b) there’s no word for “privacy” in Hindi, and the concept doesn’t exist in Indian culture.  I didn’t feel threatened because I understood that the clerks had no idea how their proximity made me feel, but boy was it disconcerting. 

 

Those of you who know me well are familiar with my personal space issues -- as in, I need a lot of it.  So naturally I’ve ended up in a place where the culture doesn’t even understand the concept.  I truly believe this is an opportunity to grow, to learn how to stay calm and present.  Don’t get me wrong: I’m dreading the inevitable day I’m pinned up against a zillion people in a small space, but in a strange way I’ll welcome it when it happens.