Justice comes in all shapes and sizes

Note: Please read www.hannahdobie.blogspot.com for more on my 2012-2013 experience in Guwahati, India.

I often wonder how many people are judging me negatively for first living a rather impoverished lifestyle in Guwahati when I was here before, and now living something decidedly more upscale in Mumbai. I know this much—I certainly judge myself.

These days I go to country clubs and swim. I go shopping in lavish malls with friends I have made. (I hate shopping.)  Whenever I want to, I sit in a Starbucks or a Pinkberry and throw down a latte or a frozen yogurt. The family I am staying with has three maids and one driver who are always ready to do anything I ask them. I can get anything in Mumbai that I can get in the States, including peanut butter. In Guwahati, which was one step above camping out, they didn't know what peanut butter was. After this summer, I believe I will have seen two completely different sides of India.

I love to immerse myself in a culture, and I have done my best here, but I really cannot put my finger on what the culture is here. I like to live that simple life and I like to really challenge myself by living in a completely different environment. But here everything is ultra-commercialized—even Indian culture is commercialized through a kind of Western lens. In Guwahati, I would wear Kurtas and other Indian attire because it was appropriate. Here, I have never felt so much pressure to be “stylish” in my life, and I am in a sorority at Wake Forest University :). In Guwahati, I ate Indian food a lot. Here, people are cooking me western food. Nobody is seriously practicing religion, whereas in Guwahati there was an encounter with a god breaking out on every block.

There are certain similarities. Indian time still exists; even in Mumbai everything always starts late. But still, here are the images I carry around of this place: it is three girls carrying huge brand-name shopping bags as they leave a high-priced mall and walk past a little boy begging on the street. Another image: I walk into the kitchen at 11 P.M. to get some water and see that the maids are sleeping on the kitchen floor. Or maybe it’s walking down to the parking garage in Maker Maxity, the office complex where I work, curious to see what it looks like, and finding hundreds of drivers waiting and waiting in the extreme heat for the next time their boss, who works in an air conditioned building and gets paid millions of dollars, calls.

We have three maids where I live and I have gotten to know them well. They come from villages on the other side of India. They are Christian, and had some education in Christian schools in their villages. Through various Christian agencies, they (and thousands of others) have been brought to big cities like Mumbai to work for the wealthy. They get one month of paid leave a year. Otherwise they cook, clean, wash clothes, and do everything possible. And let me tell you, they are incredible at what they do.

Of course, not being used to this, I have had a difficult time learning how to let them do something, ANYTHING, for me. I go out of my way to be kind to them—I let them come in my room and watch their favorite TV show, hoping no one in my host family finds out. I often get up after dinner from the table and start taking my plate to the kitchen, but am reminded that's for the servants to do. "Why do you think we pay them?" my host family asks me. The maids make me a lunch every day, which is Indian food, and one day I wanted instead to make my own peanut butter and banana sandwich. Which I did. But that was not supposed to happen. Which was explained to me. The next day, the kind servants packed me a lunch as usual. In it was a peanut butter and banana sandwich. How I do love them.

Every day I make my bed. And every day the maids undo it and remake it after I have left for work. One day I hand-washed some of my shirts, and then got yelled at by one of the maids: "Why did you not ask me to do this? Don't do that again!!!" The maids WANT to work. They are proud of they work that they do.

Stories of me doing something wrong with the maids are endless around our house. Usually the maids just laugh at me, but they and the family are also capable of yelling. So I CONSTANTLY try to convince myself the following—this is a different side of Indian culture. And I should immerse myself in it, right?

Then again, the whole scene gives me so much anxiety. I am always feeling bad every time I ask them to do something. Let’s just hope letting them watch TV in my room stays a secret. I know I'm not going to change the world with our little television get-togethers. But I guess every revolution starts differently.

Sending a peanut butter and banana sandwich your way,

Hannah Dobie

The table is always set up so nicely. 

Welcome to the party. 

There is still no monsoon. Found this on my run. 

Found this amongst Mumbai's noise and pollution. 

Traffic. All the time.

Consumers in Full Bloom

For those who do not know, Bangalore is in South India in the state of Karnataka. It is the I.T. capitol of India, sort of like Silicon Valley. My friend, Raina, lives there. I know Raina through the Operation Smile Cleft Care Centre in Guwahati. She was the child-life specialist at the centre, but she is now based out of Bangalore and travels all over Asia, training other child life specialists. She loves kids and is extremely passionate about Operation Smile. I became quite close to her in Guwahati, and I have never been to Bangalore, so I went to visit her. She so graciously let me invade her life and her weekend.

 

After a flight delay and a cancellation out of Mumbai, I made it to Bangalore on Friday night. Usually when you drive through an Indian city at nighttime, you will see hundreds of people sleeping on the street. From the Bangalore airport to Raina’s house, which is a one-and-a-half hour drive (welcome to India’s big cities), I only saw ten people who had set up a movable bed on the sidewalk. When I landed back in Mumbai (on Sunday night), it would have been impossible to count how many men, women, and children had set up blankets on the sidewalk for the night. Yes, of course, Bangalore has beggars and people trying to rip you off, but not to the extent that Delhi or Mumbai have. South India tends to be more prosperous than North India. Most of the southern states are clean, highly educated, speak English, and have large numbers of Christians. Karnataka has all of these features, not quite to the extent of its neighboring states Kerala or Tamil Nadu, but close.

Many of the educational advertisments in the middle of the road.

Bangalore has boomed as a consumer nation. In the past two years, twenty-six malls have been built. Just as there is a Starbucks or a McDonalds on every corner in the United States, so is there a mall on every corner in Bangalore. I am not just talking about a complex of a few stores (although many of those exist as well). I am talking full-fledged, gigantic malls, which have food courts and playgrounds and stores of every kind (western to Indian and everything in between). The food courts are filled with Taco Bell, McDonalds, and KFC, and plenty of Indian fast food chains. If you are lucky, you might find a Krispy Kreme. Every single one of these malls is booming with business. They are crowded but well-kept.

Malls after malls after malls.

 

In case you want some Taco Bell...

Because of the IT companies, Bangalore is a young city. It is also a hub for high ranked colleges and universities, making Bangalore an even younger city. The numbers of young Asians (Chinese in particular) and other young foreigners is astounding. Because of this, there are even a few “Tibet malls” in Bangalore. These are outdoor-like complexes that sell cheap and cute female clothing from Chinese and Korean designers. They are stationed all over the city, and girls who attend one of the many colleges and universities buy their clothes here. All of the merchandise is shipped in massive amounts from Korea and/or China. Shirts, dresses, pants, shorts, bras, underwear; anything and everything in any size, shape, color, pattern, form you could ask for is smashed together and crammed into these tiny tiny stores. They are owned by Koreans or Chinese or another Asian nationality. Store after store after store, all selling similar clothing and shoes, with Korean/Chinese models plastered all over the dressing rooms.

 



The view from Raina's building.

Bangalore is similar to Delhi in that Delhi has space to grow out, while Mumbai only has space to grow up. So, Bangalore does not have many residential skyscrapers although many are being built. The luxurious residential apartment scheme is beginning in Bangalore and will probably get more pronounced. Raina lives in a huge residential apartment complex. In it there are 400 apartments, a swimming pool, a grocery store, a day-care, and other facilities like basketball courts and tennis courts. It is a life unto itself.



Laughing with Raina and Ajit.

We ate delicious south Indian food, which is my favorite type of Indian food, and wandered through the city looking at temples, churches, and British architecture. I had such fun participating in the different lifestyle there. The Vice President of Operation Smile Asia, Ajit Varma, also lives in Bangalore. He took us to the Bangalore club, which "was established in 1868 as the Bangalore United Services Club in the traditions of the Colonial Clubs for the officers of the British Empire." The facilities are beautifully British. It was a great weekend, and I cannot believe how much we managed to fit in to forty eight hours.



Sending the travel bug your way,
Hannah Dobie

P.S. For more information on luxurious residential buildings in India, I encourage you to read the NY Times article here. 

 Moooo!                                                                                  Church

Another old, yet beautiful church.

South Indian temples are different than North Indian temples.

A restaurant known as Barbecue Nation.

A old and famous South Indian restaurant. It is known to be a
meeting place for students, journalists, and artists of all kinds.

 

Koshy's was founded in 1940.



Inside the restaurant. In the walls were old photos of British ownder houses/buildings in Bangalore.



Fish fry, fish curry, mutton fry, lots of rice (of course).



The most famous road in Bangalore: Brigade road.

 

Make me a FEMALE star



A quick recount of my week includes dabbling in the Bollywood movie industry, witnessing the arrival of the monsoons (although they are arriving very late this season), and continuing my research at Russell Reynolds Associates.

First, A Bollywood movie promo. Late last week, I was at a coffee shop in a very upscale mall. In the courtyard of the mall were hundreds of people gathered around a stage. I ventured into the crowd and learned that it was a Bollywood promotion. In the Indian Bollywood film industry, the producers release the music from the movie a month before the movie comes out in theaters. By performing it somewhere, they build consumer interest in the film. In classic Indian fashion, the performance at the mall was supposed to start at 6:30 but did not start until 8:00. Two famous actors and singers came out and performed this particular movie's songs. The crowd was really diverse, ranging from cab drivers to girls in crop tops and booty shorts. Everyone was shooting pictures with their phones and media cameras were everywhere. After some time, Arnav and his friends came to join me. Another singer /piano player came out, and one of Arnav’s friends said to us, “He was put in jail six days ago for fighting.” Guess that did not last long.


Friends enjoying the Bollywood promotion.

I love Bollywood movies. They are cheesy, but so much fun. Some people think they are ridiculous, and many of them are, but I am a huge fan. I never stop smiling the entire time I am watching them. One thing to understand: the music that is made for Bollywood movies is the music that plays on the radio and fills the Top 100 songs in the charts here. Bollywood movies reach every type of person, from the richest billionaire to the people in the Guwahati slum who save up their rupees to go see the latest release. If someone offered me a contract to be in a Bollywood film, I just might have to forget about everything else and do it. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine, a silly obsession.

Anyway, the music release at the mall was only my first brush with Bollywood. Arnav has a cousin who is in her first Bollywood film after working up the ranks. We were invited to her music release and film promotion at the Marriot, a fancy hotel. Her co-star comes from a very prominent and historic Bollywood family; therefore, he did not have to work up the ranks. I have never been in such a celeb filled room; people like Kareena Kapoor, Karisma Kapoor and A.R. Rahman. Look them up on a google and you can understand. I was fascinated watching the media interact with these extremely famous celebrities who are dressed to the nine and used to flashes shining in their face. We got to go backstage and experience the private media session along with stand close to some millionares in the Bollywood industry. Needless to say, that was my time to get a contract to be a Bollywood actress, and it did not happen.



Aranv and me. In the background is Arnav's cousin.

Arnav's sister (Aditi), Arnav, Aranv's Mom (Deepika)

 

A few of the performers singing as they release the movie's music. 

 



                                  


Arnav's cousin, Deeksha and her co-star Armaan.

Left to right: A.R. Rahman, movie director, movie producer, news anchor, two actors.

The Kapoor family releasing the CD.

Deeksha (Arnav's cousin), Armaan Jain.

While these women have taken over the film industry, other notable women are beginning to take over Indian banks and supply chains. After doing some research, I discovered that the top three Indian banks are all run by powerful women (HSBC, Axis, ICICI). One of my projects is to create a profile for top-talent females in marketing, supply chains and that sector. There are plenty of women in HR, and plenty of women working in massive companies in the lower level sector. And then, there are a few women who are way up in the hierarchy. But there are no women in between the lower and the higher management. 
The differences in urban and rural understandings of women are extreme, just like the lifestyles. Large corporate companies are beginning to find it important to fill their management with “diversity,” otherwise known as females. Except for Delhi, most of the rapes that happen in India, occur in villages. In Mumbai, you will see women having coffee with each other or having a girls’ day out. My observation was that in Guwahati, it was not like that. Parents give their daughters much more freedom here; they are allowed to stay out with friends until the wee hours of the morning.

Not to make a generalization, but in the United States, most secretaries or front desk workers are females and most cleaners are female. Here that is not the case. From what I have concluded, once you start getting to lower level jobs, employers are pulling from a different class of people. They are pulling from the lower class. Most likely, as a lower class family, nobody has a job. And if anyone is going to get a job, it’s the man in the family. So men fill the secretary and cleaning positions.

Just some thoughts as I continue to experience a different side of India.

Sending some Bollywood songs your way,

Hannah Dobie

P.S. The monsoons are beginning to start. It’s unbelievable how much it can rain in five minutes. It does not seem to bother many people, but I bought an umbrella just in case.

 

Somewhere over the rainbow.

Waiting for the monsoons.



Waiting for the monsoons.

I was driving over the sea link (a huge bridge) and the clouds started coming our way.



And within three minutes it looked like this.

The wind was so strong, the cab was beginning to get pushed around.

The light is green, and no cars are moving. Traffic after the monsso

 

Where to start?

Mumbai rattles my brain. It takes three hours to go anywhere, thanks to gridlocked traffic and 22 million people. Everything is so loud. Buildings rise, rise, rise.

Traffic, traffic, traffic.

On every street corner there is western dress, western food, and western influence. I see at least three to four foreigners a day. Sometimes I feel that there is a lack of a distinct Indian culture in Mumbai. It is instead a mixture of India and the West. Commercial enterprises like movies, Starbucks, McDonalds, Zara's (the clothing company), and Facebook all contribute to this lessening of an identity. Or maybe it's creating something new altogether.

On Friday, I ventured to a part of Mumbai called Santa Cruz. A couple of women from work asked me if I wanted to go with them to visit a nice silver jewelry market. On my way home from there, I had to pass through an old part of Santa Cruz. The lanes were tiny, and the rickshaw had to squeeze through massive numbers of people who were filling the old market. The shops on the side of the road were situated in very old homes. The buildings were all only two stories tall; storeowners lived on top of their shops. It felt to me like the REAL India, like what you find in Old Delhi, or certain parts of Guwahati. In this part of Mumbai, the old culture was alive and well.

Some silver I bought from the Santa Cruz market. All my photos of the old homes turned out poorly because it was during the night. 

This past weekend, a friend of Arnav's graciously invited a group of her friends (and Arnav dragged me along) to her home in Panchagini. This town is what is known in India as a "hill station." These are high-altitude towns that were founded by the British, in the days of the Raj, to get away from the heat, and dirt, and clamor of the big cities. (For those who have been there, think Monteagle, Tennessee.) Today, affluent Indians often have second homes in these hill stations. The house we visited was beautiful—it should be in an architecture magazine. With six bedrooms, there was lots of room in which to play Monopoly Deal, eat delicious food, and dance around to Hindi music. The house was situated at the edge of a cliff and the view was beautiful.

Panchagini is about four-five hours away from Mumbai. On the way back we got stuck in standstill traffic. It took us two hours to go nine miles, thanks to an overturned truck. Apparently, it had been there for 24 hours, and no one had moved it out of the way yet. Heads-up India—get the truck out of the way!

Arnav and I, I was asked to do the "American pose."

Below are various views from this beautiful house. 

 

 

As for my internship at Russell Reynolds, the people are so welcoming and have taught me a lot. I am doing a lot of research, creating high-female exec profiles, researching healthcare companies, and the list goes on. Every Monday morning we have a Skype meeting with the Delhi office. This week we spent 10 minutes talking about how Narendra Modi, the new Prime Minister of India, is going to change the economy and how it will effect our company's operations in India.

On Sunday night, I attended a family dinner hosted by Arnav’s aunt and uncle. The family talked about Modi and how he is changing things. He has been in office for twelve days now and he has done a lot. Many agreed that if he keeps going at this rate, India will change. The sense around the table was very, very positive as to the direction he may take things. Interestingly, Mumbai is very business-oriented, and people don't like New Delhi (the capital) very much because they see it as corrupt and inefficient. If you are a millionaire in Mumbai, you look at a millionaire in New Delhi and don't have respect for him or her, because you automatically assume that he or she made their money from an insider government deal rather than in the business sector.

Going home from work, I always take a cab. This cab driver I had recently was very proud of his English and loved to show it off. After asking where I was from, he responded, “Me, Gujarati, Modi.” Modi is from an area of India known as Gujarat. People there are quite proud of Modi. It is so great to hear that someone like a cab driver is happy with the current prime minister. He went on to say, “I love Modi.”

Who knows if change will actually happen in India. It’s too early to speculate. But it is nice to think that a leader is perhaps going to get rid of the corruption in Delhi. I encourage you to look him up on Google and read the various news regarding his deacons. 

Next blog I am going to write about the culture of maids and drivers in India. I may also write about the monsoons—it is incredibly hot here, and they say the rains are coming any day. When they do, my bosses at work tell me they will call me and tell me whether to come in. Apparently, you sometimes can't make it to work through all the water.

Sending waves of heat your way,

Hannah Dobie