I arrived in India on January 28th
to volunteer with Gabriel Project Mumbai, through JDC Entwine, teaching English to kids
from the Kalwa slums and working with the Indian Jewish community in Thane, a suburb
south of Mumbai, where about forty percent of Indian Jews reside.
When I was first learning about the
program, I was told we’d be living in a quiet suburb outside the big, crazy
city. I think in my head I imagined something a little bit like Brooklyn
neighborhoods: still urban, but running at a lower key than Manhattan. When we arrived,
I couldn’t believe what it means for a town here to be considered a “quiet
suburb.” Here in Thane, there are stores and people lining our street all the
time, late into the night. Not to mention the assortment of vehicles
trundling back and forth, honking indiscriminately. Crossing the street is a
skill I thought I had mastered, especially as a freely jay-walking Bostonian,
but I clearly still have more to learn. Auto-rickshaws, scooters, motorcycles,
bicycles, pedestrians and trucks all share our little “suburban” street. People
walk in the street because the sidewalks are too full of merchants and stray
dogs. It’s a crazy place.
The businesses here don’t always
make sense to me. For example, not too far from our apartment is a sign for a
practice that specializes in both brain surgery and cosmetic surgery. So if you
want to have brain surgery and liposuction on the same day, I guess that’s the
place to be. Another treats dermatological maladies, and counsels on weight
loss. Totally bizarre.
It is hot here. It feels like Boston in August, and it’ll only get hotter. I’ve been wearing a pair of
stretchy yoga pants around, but today, I bought my first Indian clothes. Four
loose shirts and two pairs of leggings, one turquoise! A woman at the store helped me pick them out.
One of the shirts I tried on had some gold thread detail, and she thought it would
be nice to pair it with some metallic sparkly gold leggings, like straight out
of a disco. I told her I was still getting used to it here and maybe I’d
reconsider in a couple weeks.
Today we also visited the
Synagogue in Thane. It is decorated with Jewish stars, and is basically set up
like a Sephardic shul inside, with a podium kind of bima in the middle and
benches surrounding, with a women’s section above. There’s a mikvah behind the
sanctuary, and they also prepare kosher meat there. The history of Jews in
India is really fascinating, I’ll write about it more later. They get about 70
people in shul on Shabbat. You know, on second thought, I guess they don’t call
it shul. Right across the street from the synagogue is an apartment building,
also decorated with Jewish stars… and a few swastikas. The swastika doesn’t
have the same connotations here as elsewhere in the Jewish world, as it
actually represents good fortune. It is still incredibly unnerving to see them.
Yesterday we had our first Hindi
lesson with a student named Viraj (I keep mistakenly calling him Vijay), who is
studying economics. We learned how to say things like, my name is Ilana, I live
in Boston, and I am 27 years old. On special request, he also taught us how to
ask, is there wheat in this? I wish I knew how to say that a couple nights ago.
We went out to eat at a restaurant in the mall (the mall! A whole topic in and
of itself!) and it was quite overwhelming. There were about as many waiters
waiting on us as diners at our table, and they went around dolling portions of
various sauces, croquets, and pita-like bread onto our massive oblong plates. I
have to watch out for use of a seasoning called hing, also known as asafoetida,
because it often contains wheat as a filler. I asked over and over if
everything contained wheat or hing, but still a couple of the breads ended up
on my plate. I just sectioned that part of the plate off as a danger zone.
Right now we’re making a group Shabbat
dinner. It’s very complicated here with everyone’s food restrictions. Most
people keep kosher, but two are much more strict, and then plus there’s my
gluten issues. So we have the regular kitchen dishes, a couple of my own
dishes, and then some of the extra kosher dishes. Plus actual food preferences,
like two of us don’t like cilantro, one almond allergy, some of us don’t like
rice, and I’m sure more I don’t know about yet.
We’re making do so far, but with seven people using one small apartment
kitchen, it’s a challenge.
It’s very weird to go from living
on my own in a city where I can freely walk around in weather-appropriate clothing,
to having six roommates and being so physically close to people all of the time,
in and out of the apartment. Everyone volunteering with me is great, but it’s a
big, big change. I guess my camp days were longer ago than I realized.
Sorry about the haphazard
appearance of my blog. I wanted to get everything down before I forgot it, and
while I can build a kickass website, aesthetic has never been my strong suit.
I’ll make it nicer in a few days, when I actually take some pictures. As for my
blog URL: I might change it, but it currently summarizes our group’s main topic
of conversation. Everyone brought a ton of diarrhea medicine, but people are
far more constipated than anything else. I basically ONLY brought constipation
medicine, so I am making fast friends. TMI? Sorry. Now you know, for your own
future trips to India. You’re welcome.
I miss everyone at home so much, and
I’m excited to hear about what’s going on with everybody. So send me an update
whenever you have the chance!
