Wonders of Wayanad

Hi friends!

I've just returned from the hilly countryside of Wayanad (in the southern Indian state of Kerala) and it was AMAZING. We took a 2.5 hour train ride and then a 4 hour very bumpy bus ride to get there, where we stayed with a wonderful NGO called RASTA - Rural Agency for Social and Technological Advancement - in cozy rooms of seven people each. The small RASTA campus was beautiful - stone moss-covered steps, hibiscus and other flowering plants, and so much greenery.

Wayanad is nestled among gorgeous hill-mountains - I shared some photos my friends took on my Facebook page. It was stunning. We spent the week meeting with Adivasi (indigenous) farmers and activists, as well as a women's self help (advocacy and empowerment) group. They were all so inspiring, especially the women's group- they worked together to save money for shared projects and there was such a strong sense of sisterhood. The Adivasi activists talked about their struggles to reclaim land and to fight stereotypes - objectives shared by many Native American groups in the United States. And the farmers discussed the increasing pressure to use harmful pesticides on their land, which is also a problem in  the US.

On one of our visits to an Adivasi town, we drove offroad up beautiful hills. On other visits we had deep conversation about feminism and education and oppression, which are the best sorts of conversations. I am so happy with the group I'm traveling with - they are truly amazing people! We also hiked to Eddakkal caves, which host beautiful moss-covered prehistoric stone carvings. And when I say hiked - I mean HIKED. First we walked up a very steep paved path for a long time, then climbed a neverending set of stairs to get to the caves. It was intense. But the views at the top were breathtaking.

We drove back Friday night, stopping at Mysore Palace, which had been the home of the rulers of Karnataka up until Indian independence. It was one of the most opulent places I’ve ever been, but it raised questions: was the full history present on the audio tour or just the sterilized and glorified version? Is it right that the palace was so full of splendor although, both when it was built and currently, people in the area are starving? Whose land was it built on? How was the labor to build it obtained? These are questions that we can ask about any historical site, in the US or abroad.

Then, on Saturday evening, our group got to attend a wedding! Before Wayanad I had bought a beautiful aqua and royal blue sari, and it was amazing to get to wear it - our group all got dressed up together and some of the women on the Visthar staff helped us drape the saris correctly and secure them. We didn't stay terribly long at the wedding itself, just long enough to have a wonderful dinner of rice and beef and parota (seriously the best bread ever) and to meet the bride and groom. The bride wore an elaborate sari and a veil of flowers - guests would walk up to the stage she and her family were on and present her gifts. Everyone was dressed dazzlingly, in beautiful saris and salwars.

These next 2 weeks I have class at Visthar, and then fall break to the Himalayas!

Peace and love, Malyn

Distance

Revisiting an earlier draft of a post:

Hi folks!

Today I finished Katherine Boo's book Behind the Beautiful Forevers (later than I should have, but I am giving it two careful reads with notes so nobody worry). And I realized a truth about myself that I am unsure how to feel about: I distanced myself from feeling too much. The book is nonfiction, written in a narrative/novel style, and deals with the lives of the residents of a slum just outside Mumbai called Annawadi. There's sadness, hardship, and cold reality.

And after I finished, I realized that I hadn't cried once. Not at either of the two suicides or the murder or the bleakness. I get emotional easily, so why was that? I removed myself emotionally from the plot - while I still empathized with characters and got involved in the story, I didn't allow myself to get too attached. Sometimes it's a survival tactic, because everyone who works with social justice or even lives in the world can understand that sadness can mean feeling helpless and burned out. A certain amount of distance seems necessary. But at the same time I wonder if it means losing some of my humanity, my empathy. I suspect that as I see more harsh realities in India I will keep this dilemma in mind.

I did, however, feel guilt. Realization that the products I use and my own consumerist lifestyle have some impact on the lives of Annawadi's residents and on many people across the world. The chemicals in my nailpolish were possibly inhaled by factory workers or leaked into drinking water somewhere. And while I can cut down on beauty product use, or many other things, I can never stop consuming entirely. It isn't possible for me to become self-sustainable or to only use things that come from ethical sources: while that would be great, I have neither the time nor especially the money that such a venture would take. What we - what I- need to do is to put pressure on companies that act unethically, in hopes of getting them to stop. That dilemma is unsolvable otherwise.