Where is your chunni?

Usually women wear a sari with a petticoat (plain cotton skirt down to the ankles) underneath. There is also a blouse (tightly tailored short cotton top). But many of the tribal ladies in this area wear no petticoat and no blouse, wrapping their saris simply, sometimes hiked up to the knees so that they can work in the fields. There can be quite a bit of skin showing!

That's why I was surprised the other day, while walking down the road in a long skirt and a modest top, a woman asked me where is my chunni? The chunni, or dupatta, is the scarf that Indian women wear backwards across their chest with the two ends flowing down the back. Indian women are masters of the draped fabrics -- it all looks so beautiful, but it's quite restrictive to movement. I guess it doesn't matter whether the chunni really covers anything, it's more the idea of it -- that you're trying to cover yourself. Of course the pallu on the sari leaves a whole lot of midriff exposed, but that's OK. It's a real challenge, trying not to offend any cultural sensibilities, when the rules are so different from home! And this applies to lots of other things too. So many things that are requisite good manners in the States, are foolish here. And many things that Indians take as normal, would be considered extremely rude in the states. Overall, I would have to agree that Indians express gratitude and consideration more with actions and sincerity than with just words or polite phrases.

I was walking down the road to the turnoff about 1 km from the BREDS office. There's a Durga temple there. I watch the people going by, and almost every single man, woman and child does the kiss your finger touch your forehead thing, even if they're navigating a motorbike around potholes and chickens darting into the road. People offer prayers all the time. I saw one guy smearing his car tires with turmeric paste to bless his journey!

I think Indians are very wise in the way they pace themselves at work. As I give these trainings, we frequently pause for a break. There's tea midmorning, and then again midafternoon. RamaKrishna comes with his beautiful smile, carrying a tray of tiny cups of milk tea, heavily spiced and sugared. When people start getting sleepy in the heat (the overhead fans cut off every time the power fails, which is frequent), the staffers ask me to stop and lead them in some yoga stretches or some improvisational movement games. The men always participate vigorously, and the women fuss with their saris and dresses (salwar khameez) alot.

Sometimes we sing songs. Yesterday, Bhanu sang a beautiful song she learned from the tribal ladies. It's all about their culture and describes how they live and celebrate, dress and cook, etc. Everyone joins in at the chorus. I loved it. Today, they requested a song from me, and they all survived my Gillian Welch rendition.

When the modules are done, I'll leave Andhra and head north. My time here has certainly had its ups and downs, but I will definately be leaving on a high note. These trainings are so much fun. I am trying to teach Asha bai how to email, but I don't think there's enough time. How can I possibly leave her and her family with no plan to see them again?

Sorry, I still haven't figured out the photos, but I'll add them as soon as I do. Happy Rosh Hashana!