I'd bob to that.

Many of the people I've interacted with in India have a mannerism that seems unique to this area; it's a quick and subtle head bob side to side as an answer to a question. It's pretty adorable actually. The problem is, in American culture we do not engage in this mannerism, leaving me uncertain of how to interpret the bob. Was it a "yes"? It could just as easily have been a "no." Why not just answer one way or another? Why leave me with so much guess work? Keep this point in mind...

My experience has been that India is a land of contradictions. The hospitality of the people is unparalleled, leaving me feeling welcomed and appreciated. Simultaneously, the incessant haggling on the street can lead me to feel frustrated and impatient. There are starving people living on the streets, and on these very same streets restaurants serve much larger portions than a single person can eat. Each morning I see people sitting on the curbs and sidewalks fervently scrubbing their bodies clean, while they may spend their day literally handling trash and waste. Shop owners barter back in forth with you for a matter of a couple rupees then offer you chai as a simple act of kindness, demonstrating their generosity.

Along with contradictions there's competition. Competition exists everywhere in the USA, cloaked in pleasantries, and the hoarding of personal possessions behind the sturdy walls of American homes. In India, the competition and contradictions exist hand-in-hand and out in the open. For example, today our group went to Kali's Temple (Kali is a highly revered Hindu goddess). A Brahman showed us around, indicating the Do's and Don'ts as we went. I entered the temple and was forcibly pushed around, colored powder was plastered onto my forehead, and hands reached out at me asking for donations, as our group and Hindu worshipers fought our way closer to the shrine. The scene was chaotic, with yelling and pushing. Yet at the same time incense burned ceremoniously and flower petals delicately littered the area as a sign of reverence. In my mind I had trouble marrying these two very different experiences occurring at once; I walked out of the temple in a confused haze.

Wanting badly to make sense of the unexpected intensity of the experience, I asked the Brahmin, "Specifically, what do people pray to Kali for?" he answered with a smile, "Peace." Peace! I felt like I'd just been sent through a mosh-pit! I couldn't understand why people were pushing one another out of the way to be closer to Kali. Here came the competition again; in praying for peace, aren't we praying for the very people we're pushing out of the way in order to put ourselves first? Are prayers on the endless list of resources that are scarce and fleeting? In this moment, I wished for someone to help me to better understand the complexity which had left me both captivated and bewildered.

This dynamic came up again at Brother Xavier's orphanage with a little girl I've connected with, Shamoli. While Shamoli was walking around with me holding onto my hand, another little girl came and grabbed my other hand. "No," said Shamoli, "She's MY Auntie!" I was surprised by her possessiveness of me; did she worry I would not have enough attention or love for the both of them? Was my attention yet another resource to compete for? Earlier that same day, Shamoli had shown me her personal possessions consisting of a rag doll, an empty water bottle, a plain dress, and a sheet of stickers. She insisted on my having the stickers to keep. How simultaneously she experienced feelings of benevolence and threat. Such are the contradictions of the human experience; more readily identified in my interactions and observations here in India, than in any other time or place I've witnessed.

I too, have become a bit contradictory. For instance, I truly did not enjoy being pushed around by the crowd at Kali's Temple. Would I go again? Absolutely. I find the illnesses of the women at Prem Dan where I volunteer devastating and heartbreaking. Will I keep working there? Yes, whole heartedly. India has planted an endless array of questions in my mind, for which I do not yet have answers. Questions about suffering, about generosity of spirit, and the power of love and compassion, as well as emotions for which I do not have the verbal capability to convey. So what do I do now? How do I settle the unease of so much unknown and unanswered? How do I definitively answer the endless bounty of quandaries before me?

I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll return to my hotel room, look in the mirror, and start perfecting my head bob.

Peace,
Em