When I told my parents that I was going to study abroad and live in India for a semester, they certainly had questions and concerns; and to be fair, so did I. I was leaving two months after the gang- rape in Delhi where a 23 year old woman was killed on a public bus while traveling with a male companion. This was a violent tragedy that made international news. At that moment, it was easy for my parents and myself to forget how large the country India is, and that yes, one terrible event happened but that there is so much else to the country than this news story. Violence against women and street harassment are definite issues, but I refused to let the events overshadow my trip or cause me to live in fear of traveling around. Upon landing in India and traveling to my home-stay in Jaipur, my interactions with people were almost nothing but positive. Everyone we met with, my host family, and then later on in Kerala the people I was working with, were all wonderful and welcoming. I was welcome into homes, taken out to dinner, fed delicious foods, chai and given a really strong sense of community during my living there. I would even venture to say, that in many cases I felt more welcome by total strangers I was interviewing or working with, than people in the United States. Stories of culture, religion, family and friends all flowed freely in my meetings. I also learned so much about feminism in Kerala, in ways that in the end shaped many of my world views.
I would say I learned a lot in my travels around India; things such as resourcefulness, patience, improvising and being open to the people around me. A story I would like to end on, is around an experience I had on my thirty six hour train ride down to Kozhikode.
Even with the most of my time in India being filled with positive experiences, there were also times when I experienced street harassment. It was not uncommon to be catcalled, in fact it happened daily, and also on occasion would be followed for a couple street blocks. The interesting thing about these experiences though, is that I almost never felt totally unsafe. It was more of a cultural thing (which does not make it right or wrong) where men felt the street was their territory and that they had the right to call after women. This in itself was an interesting point of reflection during my stay there, and upon returning to the United States where this practice is less common place. I would say I learned a lot in my travels around India; things such as resourcefulness, patience, improvising and being open to the people around me. A story I would like to end on, is around an experience I had on my thirty six hour train ride down to Kozhikode. I was incredibly sick and the friend I was traveling with did not know what to do. There was a group of four men in our compartment with us. They were watching us very closely and I was initially really uncomfortable with the situation. As the train moved on and the food cart came around, one of them then bribed the seller to give me an extra cup of ice cream. He then told me that the dairy would sooth my stomach. Of course, he was right. They kept an eye on me for the rest of the trip, getting me ice cream and making sure that if I needed to sleep that they were quiet. They didn’t know who I was, but that didn’t matter to them. When we got to our stop, it was late and one of them walked us to the car that was picking us up to make sure we got there safely. Long story short, I would say that although there were definite challenges in traveling as a woman in India, and things to adjust to, I felt more comfortable than uncomfortable most of the time. The people and community I built while I was there proved to be an irreplaceable resource. I hold these experiences very close to my heart.
