Acclimation

Here is an analogy I’ve been thinking about in honor of Sir Edmund Hillary.

When people climb Mt. Everest they have to do it in stages. The most important place on that mountain isn’t always the top, but the base camp. The people climb up a bit then climb back down and do some adjusting to the altitude. Then they climb up a bit higher and then back down to a new base camp at a slightly higher altitude. You can’t just sprint to the top of a mountain because the environment is so radically different that it’ll kill you.

Sometimes I think moving to India feels a little like climbing a mountain. If I sprinted into a life here, just dove into all of the new things at once, I don’t think I’d make it. It wouldn’t kill me, but it would be pretty emotionally dangerous. Living in Mumbai is hard. Really hard. There are a lot of beautiful things about this culture and this city, but a lot of things are draining, frustrating and heart wrenching. I’ve realized that all of the differences and difficulties of India, combined with the everyday challenges of moving to any new place, will require a long period of acclimation. I wasn’t wholly willing to accept that at first. My fears about moving here manifested in my putting unreasonable pressure on myself to see things, do things, get settled, and most importantly like everything here. How naïve! My expectations were totally unreasonable and I’ve ended up in a pretty emotionally vulnerable position.

So I’m climbing back down and setting up base camps: our apartment, Priyadarshni park, the local bookshop, yoga class, Akanksha. I venture out from those places realizing that I can climb back down into their comfort for a few days at a time. Next I hope to build up some more relationships here that become sort of comfort zones—real friends outside of John and my own mind. I know I might not ever feel really comfortable during our stay here, but I hope that by paying attention to acclimation at least I’ll be able to breathe better.

The Gathering Tree

There is a spot in our neighborhood that I like to call “The Gathering Tree.” Just about any time of day or night there is a group gathered around this substantial tree. There is a low wall built around its perimeter that makes a perfect bench for lounging and chatting. Two entrepreneurial types have set up small stalls at this tree, one a paan and cigarette shop, another a small fruit stand. In this case “stall” just means a glorified wooden suitcase full of cigarettes, matchboxes, chewing gum, and paan making supplies all stacked up and organized remarkably neatly. In the case of fruit, it’s a few baskets set on the ground with piles of fresh fruit and a small scale for weighing the customer’s choices. Though small, these two businesses provide the hub of activity for our street. People gather, eat fruit, smoke cigarettes, chew paan and talk. In the evening, men who make Indian snack sandwiches and roast nuts set up shop at the tree as well. The only thing the Gathering Tree is missing is a chai stall, but there is one just a few meters down the road. Mumbai has no shortage of street-side vegetable, fruit and tobacco vendors. But the Gathering Tree has the unique appeal of leafy shade on a relatively quiet neighborhood street. This place to sit, relax and enjoy the company of friends and neighbors is one of my favorite places in Mumbai.

Young at Heart

Most of the people I know in India are under the age of ten.

The neighbor kids from our building have taken a liking to me and John. All of them seem excited by the novelty of a young American couple staying in their building. They ask a lot of questions about our country and our families. Most of them speak very good English, as the municipal schools in this and other well-to-do neighborhoods teach in English. While John has been very busy at work the last few weeks, I have spent a few evenings teaching card games and hosting drawing contests. The kids have taken to ringing the doorbell just to come inside and play cards whether I play with them or not. But they are eager to include me in their games and teach me words in Hindi. In a lot of ways they are more welcoming than many of the adults in the building.

In January there was a festival called Makar Sankranti, which has something to do with astrological phenomena, something about the sun, and a planet changes houses…I don’t really know much about the origins of the festival because what everybody talks about and gets excited about are the kites. On Makar Sankranti everyone goes up to the rooftops of their buildings or to the parks, or even just to the streets, and they fly kites. My young friends invited me to spend the afternoon kite-flying with them, and it was great fun. The kite-flying here is competitive. The small paper kites are flown on very thin, sharp strings, and people from one building try to cut the strings of neighbor buildings with their own kites. When they are successful, they shout and laugh and sing. Here are a few pictures of the kids and views from our rooftop:

I have been volunteering for some time now with a group called Akanksha, which has introduced me to another whole group of kids age 8-10. Akanksha helps to educate “underprivileged” children. Unlike the children in my building, these kids do not learn English in their municipal schools, so Akanksha focuses on teaching English. I go to one of the 25 centers around Mumbai every morning and spend a few hours tutoring in grammar, reading and writing. Math, Values and other basic skills and knowledge are also a part of Akanksha’s curriculum, so I help in those areas too. But the best thing about it is that it provides a safe, fun place for these kids to go for a few hours in the morning or afternoon. Take a look at the organization’s website if you’re interested: http://www.akanksha.org/. I know I will have a lot to write about these kids and my experience working with them during my time here.