Ode to the Indian Eve

Eleanor Roosevelt once said that a woman is like a teabag, the longer she is put in hot water, the stronger she gets (paraphrased). It seems truer than ever for most women of India. For the delicate gender that drops out of school earlier and at a higher rate than the men of the country, girls are brought up learning how to make perfectly round chapattis, move around gracefully in their Punjabi suits and/or saris, bargain for the best deals at the market and to be second to the men in their lives.

Women generally marry by their early twenties to a husband in an arranged circumstance to live happily ever after in stability – meaning good rupees. The time between meeting their betrothed and the wedding can happen in a matter of weeks. After the elaborate and expensive wedding, come the expected children who the women are responsible for raising. During the day, she stays at home cleaning, cooking (roti after roti) and if she is well off, napping and watching TV.

However, the fortress of the home, roti maker, house cleaner, child carer, is not seen in public as often as men in India. As foreigners, we are almost a half-gender, being excused for not wearing our Punjabi suits everyday, and going out to public places greatly dominated by men. These places include restaurants, movie cinemas and public transportation such as trains and buses. In Goa beaches, the only locals found in their shorts are Indian male tourists. Women generally do not go into the water unless they are fully dressed (saris, etc). Generally, Indians do not swim (may not know how), but they enjoy splashing themselves and lying by the edge. The men seem to gravitate towards foreign tourists in swimsuits, an activity that is part and package of their holiday. . .

In the busy urban centres, there are more progressive families, but in general, love marriages are rare and arranged marriages are the norm. Matrimonial online sites are getting popular and there are entire thick sections in the newspapers dedicated to finding a marriage partner divided into class, language and caste, although if you do not have such expectations, you get 25% off your ad. At weddings, the bride is not supposed to smile or else it shows that they are happy to leave their family (to move to the groom’s). And as she is whisked off from the marriage palace, she has tears in her eyes.

On the other hand, Indian Eves are not always so submissive. Unlike in villages, New Delhi and Mumbai, for example, can find more women (mostly younger) who do not wear traditional garb. In line-ups waiting to buy train tickets, some women push up to the front of the line to demand that they buy their ticket first. They can be very tricky especially when you are not looking and the next thing you know, your place has been taken. Once on a bus, I got up to allow an older woman to sit beside me and the next thing I knew, her friend had squeezed in to take my seat also! Fortunately, another seat was free behind mine . . .

On my final week in India, I’m a mix of emotion, mostly from my village experience. You can find more travel photos from me here.