Sunday was Friendship Day, and it seemed like a big deal in Bhubaneswar, although I couldn't quite figure out why or how people celebrated it. I spent the afternoon at a coffee shop called Share A Cup that was decorated with tons of balloons and had servers delivering individual cards that said "Happy Friendship Day."
Later in the evening a local radio station came by to host a special competition in honor of Friendship Day. Coffee-drinkers could compete for Mr or Miss Share A Cup. I usually love a good competition, but this one was a bit strange. The first task was to ask someone in the coffee shop to be your friend in a unique way. This resulted in a college-aged boy approaching my colleague and giving a sweet (yet awkward) speech about how she really had guts and how he wanted to be her friend. The radio mic in her face, she could do nothing else but accept his friendship.
Somehow I don't feel like this activity quite got at the heart of the holiday.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Saturday Night: The Upside of Anger
What does it look like when only men go out to bars/clubs?
Honestly, it looks kind of nice.
The whole purpose behind nightlife in Bhubaneswar is different than it is in the States. It's not about meeting girls or finding a date - which makes sense given that most boys in Bhubaneswar will opt for an arranged marriage anyway - but instead it is about hanging out with your buds.
You drink together. You dance together. You may even hold hands. And engaging in these activities don't make you less of a man, they make you a better friend. It's actually heart-warming to see how guys form relationships and bonds in India without feeling like they need to put forth a cold macho exterior.
Now there is a risk, particularly when girls enter a place where unchecked male only drinking is occurring (I certainly wouldn't go in alone). But when my co-workers and I entered Ten Downing Street at the Mayfair Hotel on Saturday night, it was like a breath of fresh air. We got on the dance floor and no one paid all that much attention to us. After all, why should they take notice of a couple of girls? They were too busy dancing amongst themselves.
Honestly, it looks kind of nice.
The whole purpose behind nightlife in Bhubaneswar is different than it is in the States. It's not about meeting girls or finding a date - which makes sense given that most boys in Bhubaneswar will opt for an arranged marriage anyway - but instead it is about hanging out with your buds.
You drink together. You dance together. You may even hold hands. And engaging in these activities don't make you less of a man, they make you a better friend. It's actually heart-warming to see how guys form relationships and bonds in India without feeling like they need to put forth a cold macho exterior.
Now there is a risk, particularly when girls enter a place where unchecked male only drinking is occurring (I certainly wouldn't go in alone). But when my co-workers and I entered Ten Downing Street at the Mayfair Hotel on Saturday night, it was like a breath of fresh air. We got on the dance floor and no one paid all that much attention to us. After all, why should they take notice of a couple of girls? They were too busy dancing amongst themselves.
Saturday: Denial
It's August 1. The night before we had sent off the first draft of our case study to the Delhi central office and presented our findings to the Orissa state office. So this was the day that we could finally celebrate after surrendering our minds to the intricacies of planning and monitoring units for seven weeks straight.
The day started off with a lovely brunch at our supervisor's home, and then my coworkers and I went off for afternoon drinks. Our destination was a place called Far Pavilion, which is a restaurant with an enclosed outdoor garden from where you cab lay back and sip inexpensive drinks. I had never been there before but it came highly recommended.
As it so happened, the garden was closed during the afternoon so we headed to the indoor bar. The inside was dully-lit, decorated in a faux Italian style with Michelangelo-inspired depictions of women on the walls. We took our seats in the corner and briefly took notice that once again we were the only females in a drinking establishment.
And this is when things took a turn for the worse. First the waiter came by and suggested that we sit in the restaurant next door. Somewhat confused, we got up ready to comply with the suggestion, but when we entered the restaurant, the lights were off, there was no A/C, and there was only one person inside - the waiter. This wasn't the sort of festive atmosphere that we were looking for. When we pointed out these obvious short-comings, the waiter said that we could return to the bar but he thought the restaurant would be a more pleasant place for women. We thanked him for his perspective and made our way back to the bar.
As it turns out, the management was not as open to us sitting at the bar as the waiter led us to believe. We attempted to seat ourselves in the bar and were denied. The next fifteen minutes were marked by heated conversations until it became clear that this bar was not willing to serve us because we were women.
At the time, I was of two minds about this. One mind was telling me that I was in a different culture, and as such I was subject to their way of doing things. But then seeing how irate my Indian co-worker had become, I realized that deferring to cultural relativism isn't necessarily the right thing to do. At that moment, I saw that I was in the middle of a struggle - the struggle in India of young women fighting for their rights to be treated the same way as men. I saw in my co-worker that it was not enough to walk away and say that we wouldn't spend our money there. This was an opportunity to make an argument - to change minds. That day she showed me that even in a place you don't call home, you cannot accept being treated as a second class citizen.
And as an American girl in India, all I can say in response is "I'll drink to that."
The day started off with a lovely brunch at our supervisor's home, and then my coworkers and I went off for afternoon drinks. Our destination was a place called Far Pavilion, which is a restaurant with an enclosed outdoor garden from where you cab lay back and sip inexpensive drinks. I had never been there before but it came highly recommended.
As it so happened, the garden was closed during the afternoon so we headed to the indoor bar. The inside was dully-lit, decorated in a faux Italian style with Michelangelo-inspired depictions of women on the walls. We took our seats in the corner and briefly took notice that once again we were the only females in a drinking establishment.
And this is when things took a turn for the worse. First the waiter came by and suggested that we sit in the restaurant next door. Somewhat confused, we got up ready to comply with the suggestion, but when we entered the restaurant, the lights were off, there was no A/C, and there was only one person inside - the waiter. This wasn't the sort of festive atmosphere that we were looking for. When we pointed out these obvious short-comings, the waiter said that we could return to the bar but he thought the restaurant would be a more pleasant place for women. We thanked him for his perspective and made our way back to the bar.
As it turns out, the management was not as open to us sitting at the bar as the waiter led us to believe. We attempted to seat ourselves in the bar and were denied. The next fifteen minutes were marked by heated conversations until it became clear that this bar was not willing to serve us because we were women.
At the time, I was of two minds about this. One mind was telling me that I was in a different culture, and as such I was subject to their way of doing things. But then seeing how irate my Indian co-worker had become, I realized that deferring to cultural relativism isn't necessarily the right thing to do. At that moment, I saw that I was in the middle of a struggle - the struggle in India of young women fighting for their rights to be treated the same way as men. I saw in my co-worker that it was not enough to walk away and say that we wouldn't spend our money there. This was an opportunity to make an argument - to change minds. That day she showed me that even in a place you don't call home, you cannot accept being treated as a second class citizen.
And as an American girl in India, all I can say in response is "I'll drink to that."
The Final Chapters
So the last two weeks I was in Bhubaneswar, I fell off the blogging wagon. But there are stories to be told from that time - stories of festivals and friendship, dancing and denial. And so even though I am back in the U.S. I will offer up a brief retrospective of my closing days in India.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)