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I made it back to British Columbia, Canada safely. It is strange to be so acutely aware of the difference in cultures. No servants, no beggars, no reading the newspaper first thing in the morning to find out if and where the riots struck last night. No tea, fruits or meals offered as I took the 13 hour bus to Nelson.
No more being a racial minority.
I am so conscious of living in a "developed country" and the price we pay for it. No lepers, no gashing open wounds, no handicaps on boards with rollers...but what do we have instead? Counselors and psychiatrists that are well paid and busy. People willing to die because of debts and loss of jobs.
A student from Delhi writes me today, saying her life has changed since the 2 day workshop with me 6 months ago.
The violence in Gujarat continues, I read on the internet, another 5 died this morning.
In Nelson the hospital is shutting down, because of budget cuts. The BC parks are being logged now.
Two realities merging within my consciousness. My nights are filled with dreams of two realities.
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The memories that etched themselves into my mind are of the incredible strength of women. The hope for a better tomorrow, even if they may be held as slaves today. When I say 'slave' I mean someone who has no choice over their own life, no remuneration for work done from before sunrise to after sunset. So many stories there are of powerlessness and yet an inherent strength and courage to make changes. In some cases even if it means risking one's own life.
At least half a dozen women I met were dowry burn survivors with flame marks up to the chin. A husband who actually tried to burn her in order to get more money out of her parents. And there they were, having started a new life for themselves. What courage! What will to live!
Then the activists facing the horrors of the refugee camps in Gujarat, on fact finding missions. Women being the easiest victims again in a rage of hatred toward the Muslims. These activists often having jobs and then working late into the night to write or to attend meetings in order to DO SOMETHING to divert the thirst for blood. Wanting to bring to the attention to the people that continuing the prejudice, the killing and raping is no solution for their rage, their pain. How to reach such people?? Not giving up hope...for change...for a better tomorrow.
One of the criticisms I heard, aimed at the West is, that many of us are so pre-occupied with our 'own selves' that we don't see about assisting those less privileged. What interesting observation 'looking in' from the 'outside'?!?
I remember the streets being filled with the colors of the sarees, each one unique to the next and the women so graceful, no matter what cast. The symmetry and beauty of the faces. The whole range of smells and the large variety of singing birds, even in the cities.
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The women in the workshops thankful for new input into their issues. Their willingness to open up to me, even though I am so very strange to them.
The struggle to break tradition, when you know it does not feel right to you. Things are changing fast with the age of internet (mind you, only for some). The beauty and challenge to have so many evolutionary stages of humanity living side by side. The vast diversity fascinates me. Not without its problems though as we watch the Hindus and Muslims killing each other in Gujarat. One woman told the fact finding team that the week before the neighbors came over for supper, and this week they came to rape them.
Diversity, courage, strength, change, hope.
Women emerging out of a void of choice.
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Colors, smells, never ending sounds of humanity, ancient traditions, art and minds on the cutting edge of today, music everywhere, devotion and beautiful people.
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This and the love I feel for that culture and country is what I remember most of India.
Mother India might call me back, if the god/desses so wish...
Nothing is as sure as change though, She has taught me...
Gitta
taught by
 B.C., Canada, 1 (604) 876-6390 |
Contact Wenlido and Gitta
Women Educating in Self-defense Training (WEST).