Life in Chennai

It's amazing how one can adapt to any situation, environment, climate, or culture if given enough time. We as humans are fascinating and complicated creatures, aren't we? Before I came to India I just kept thinking... "Me... in India. ME? Is this seriously going to happen? Ah, I can probably rough it for a year. But ONLY a year! There's no way I can stand any more than a year. No toilet paper. No showing skin. No social life. Too hot. Too humid. Yes. Sounds like a plan. Only for a year" But now that I'm here, and have been living here for 8 months, I've grown to love this town. I've grown accustomed to the culture, even though I don't necessarily agree with all of it. I have my designated haunts. I have friends - within the conservatory, and Rahman's team, as well as an invigorating and liberal xpat community - vagabond types from all over the world who have in one way or another found themselves for a short period of time, in Chennai. I love the plants and the trees - it's astonishing to me how a city can be as equally polluted as it is green. I love my freedom. I love the fact that I can afford things here - even though I'm making the equivalent of pocket change in America, I'm able to save more money than I ever have before. I have a cat named Edgar A. Poe who adores me. I have a job that challenges me. In essence, this is the first time that I've felt "at home" since actually living at home.

Although I'm appreciative of all the good in my life right now, I can't help but be overcome with anger about the negative aspects of India living. My two examples both have to do with discrimination but in very different ways:

#1 - Misogyny.

I've never in all my life felt discriminated against for being a woman, until I came here. I constantly feel like I have to "prove" myself far more than my male colleagues. The female faculty isn't even considered when it comes to delegating responsibility - especially for administrative/budgeting tasks; or anything that has to do with organization or math. If I'm at a meeting, and come up with a great idea about an upcoming concert or event, I have to say it about two or three times before I'm heard. Or I'll say it once - and then one of the men will repeat it - and proceed to get all the credit. Everyone knows me and how I work. Obviously I can't really stand for that kind of despicable chauvinistic behavior. Group meetings are usually a disaster because I end up standing up and shouting, "HEY. LIPS MOVING. I'M TALKING." I wait for silence and then proceed. ( I realize this probably isn't the best strategy. But in the moment I can't help but snap.) A feverish argument with my superior, with uncontrolled, hysterical name calling ended with him saying "You can't talk to me like that. You're a woman!" Regardless of how inappropriate my conduct was, I was struck by his last words. He wasn't bothered by my behavior as his subordinate. He was bothered by my behavior as a woman.

Being here, there is a constant feeling of nervousness, and claustrophobia, akin to being a caged animal at a zoo where hundreds of people come to leer at you; some with childish excitement, some with curiosity, some with suspicion, and others with resentment, lust and anger. How does one deal with all these mixed emotions?

One of my students told me a story about how there was an older man, a man in is late 40's, early 50's touching a girl not more than 12 years old. They were standing next to the rickshaw stand not twenty feet from the KM school gates and he was reaching, quite conspicuously, under her skirt. The rickshaw drivers were standing in front of them, almost in a protective manner. My student said to her friend, "Oh my god, look what's happening! We need to DO something!" The 12 year old girl turned and looked at my student and shrugged. The older man gave her a menacing look and continued. Her friend said "Why should we do anything? If the little girl doesn't care, why should we?"

#2 The Consequences of being an ABCD

MONEY: I don't know what it is about this place, but I'm under the constant impression that somehow, in some way, I'm being cheated out of money on a daily basis. There could be two reasons for this:
1. I've finally begun to nibble on the candy bar of self-earned wealth and have become a paranoid, greedy shrew.
2. I'm actually being cheated out of money.
I'm leaning toward the latter, although the first could very well be the case.

I have never experienced racial discrimination in the states...myself. Maybe I'm totally oblivious to it. I don't know. But I have never felt that I was being treated differently than others, or that I was unwelcome because of my culture, etc. etc. Maybe I've just been totally ignorant to it, but maybe that's a good thing. Growing up in California, I would have to say that I had a very easy childhood. I had a multi-cultural group of close friends: White, Indian, Filipino, Guamanian, Salvadorian, Chinese; Christian, Catholic, Jewish, Hindu, Agnostic etc. Our cultural backgrounds were never a reason for conflict and we enjoyed experiencing each other's lifestyles. Our differences were an asset to our friendships. I realize in my nostalgia, I'm probably looking back through idealized lenses, but I really appreciate the effect that this group had on my life.

I was shocked to find, after coming here, that I was being racially discriminated against. How is that even possible, you might ask, being that I am Indian and I'm living in India. Well, two reasons. 1. My skin color is an immediate indicator that I'm not Tamilian. If I'm not Tamilian, what am I to them? From the north. What does that mean? It means I have money. 2. The minute I open my mouth, it's obvious that I'm from America. What does that mean? That I have money.

Because of these two factors, I constantly have the nagging feeling that I'm being cheated out of rupees every single day. The first example, is the obvious one:

Auto-Ricksaws: Remember in Chennai, they don't use the meter. If I open my mouth and speak to them in English, the price goes up by 50 rupees during the day and almost 100 rupees at night. If I speak to them in Konkani with a pained, slightly confused expression on my face and insert key English words into the phrase, the price goes down by 50 rupees, and the driver usually ends up treating me like a concerned parent would. If I'm with a Tamilian the price goes down even further by 10 or 20 rupees, I am greeted with a smile, a helping hand, and safe driving. So to go to say, Spencer Plaza, which is about a 25 minute drive, the price could be anywhere from 60 rupees to 150 during the day, and 80 to 200 at night.

The Workplace: Auto-rickshaws cheating you, fine. But I assumed that in the workplace, where there are legally binding documents and contracts, it would be impossible to go back on your word. Wrong. I can't get into specifics, but I will say this: In my original contract, I was supposed to get paid a specific dollar amount, meaning, I was told I would be paid in rupees, based on the INR-USD current exchange rate. That didn't happen. What I am getting paid now is 68% of what my original contract stated because of the exchange rate fluctuations. We have had multiple meetings, discussions, and have filed complaints - yet this issue is deliberately, and casually, overlooked.

Discrimination on our side: It's amazing to me how perfectly sane people can sometimes go crazy when all of a sudden they find themselves in a position of power. It's obvious that if you have money here, you can live very lavishly. There are so many people around to help you in India. There are always servants, cooks, watchmen. All of these people are paid to help you in some way: carry groceries, fetch necessities, clean house etc. But I've recently been appalled by how some people have been treating the help. I can't be specific, but I'm starting to learn, that regardless of cultural background and actual wealth, the minute human beings have a team of people helping them, they start to become unappreciative, demanding, and rude. In essence, I've watched the slow transformation of some of my friends here from one extreme to another. Why does power and position give people the right to treat others badly? Screaming at the help for minor details, making them feel flustered and worthless through condescension because of their position in life, is nothing short of bigotry in my opinion. How does that transformation happen?

Is this all a petty rant? I don't know. But something has to be done. Women need to be empowered in this society. Sex education needs to be taught in schools so young boys and girls know what is right and wrong - they need to be aware of the repercussions of sexual abuse and need to know how and where to get help. Locals need to be educated and understand that even though someone might be from abroad, they could very well not have a penny to their name. They need to learn not to see dollar signs in the blue of Caucasian eyes and not discriminate based on skin color. Contracts need to be legally binding - what's the point of writing anything down if it doesn't mean anything??

Concert Footage

Thanks NDTV!

Jai Ho

We Shall Overcome





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