Minneapolis Life: A Priceless Paradox

Adam and I recently visited our good friend, Chuck, in Thailand. Ah, Amazing Thailand. We adored Chiang Mai. It helped to have Chuck show us the ins and outs of where he has lived for the past three years. It truly is a mystical place- Buddhist monasteries and temples, funky markets, delicious Thai cuisine, friendly people, clean. Lovely.

On our way to Sukothai, an early Thai Kingdom in North Central Thailand, Chuck asked, "How do you like living in India?" I usually respond saying, I love it. Why? I don't actually know... Usually my response is a bit of incoherent reasoning followed by examples of why most people would want stay far away from India. Strange.

How can we describe such a place as India? To be frank, how can one describe India without complaining? Without describing the ugly as well as the beautiful? Can India be described with just words? Every time I open my mouth to say one thing, the opposite opinion comes to my brain as well. I am often left feeling like I haven't said what I want to say about living here, nor do I know how to say it. India defies a definition. It defies reason. humph. I am often left stumped. After living in India for seven months, the only thing I know for certain about life is life's uncertainty. This is true anywhere you live, but India somehow makes this uncertainty more certain. Confused? Welcome to the Bangalore life-a paradoxical world.

In an attempt to explain, a few examples of this paradoxical Bangalorean life comes to mind.
First of all, it is clear that we live in a developing third world country. It is a world of poor but rich in spirit as well as poor lost souls and their loaded pocket books. Slums are set up outside Technology Parks. Turn a street corner and you find upper and middle class shoppers in India's "first luxury shopping mall" with stores like Louis Vuitton and Burberry. Intermingled in traffic with motorized and man-motored rickshaws you find shiny Beemers and Land Rovers. A delicious meal of dosa and chai can be found for the equivalent of 75 cents and yet dinner at the Taj can cost upwards to $50.00 per person.

We live in the Silicon Valley of India, booming in technology and yet some of the most primitive ways and approaches are applied. Construction sites are built with basic hand tools and rely on exorbitant amount of man power. We get our clothes ironed outside by a street vendor who builds a fire on the street, lighting charcoal and filling a heavy cast iron. Oxen and cart are not an uncommon site on a major thorough fare (however you will be sure to see that its driver is sms'ing on his way). Newspaper is used for window washing. Recycling is hand sorted through piles of trash collected on the street.

With all the advanced IT operations and major western influences here, it appears at times that Bangalore is still catching up to things such as pop culture and home economics. Music from the American 90's is mainstream: Oasis, Coldplay, Alanis to name a few. In the Times of India, I just read an article touting the benefits of electric stoves, claiming they are new and improved versions of gas stoves (all the rage of the 1940s and 50s in the U.S.A.)

Women here are quite conservative in their dress and behavior. Religious traditions and rich cultures often mean particular attire and behavior. Wearing sleeveless tops or shorts become risque or a fashion statement. Yet, open up the Bangalore Times and see photos of women that look like they were edited by Hugh Hefner himself. I even found huge stacks of "Fifty Shades of Grey" lining a bookshelf at my favorite small bookshop. (Not that I bought it or anything...)

A few more examples. It happens often when I am walking and I think, mmmm that smells so good, like corn being roasted. Before I can say the words out loud however, I gag by the smell of pee or some other form of only God knows what is rotting on the street. On a Sunday, I may say, wow it feels so peaceful out, no sooner does a car drive by at dangerously close proximity, choosing the perfect time to honk so loudly we jump out of our skins.

The Indian Family unit is oriented to be quite communal. Your house extends beyond siblings and parents and includes grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc. But, the communal giving and sharing altogether stop when it comes to waiting in line for the bathroom, the pharmacy, the airport, the grocery store, you name it. It is all about the individual. A do or die motion to be next in line. Do you really need to use your elbows?

As mentioned numerous time in previous blog posts, traffic and congestion and over stimulation reign here. Yet, it remains chill. People do not rush. You rarely see accidents.Traffic flows. So do the people.

So how is it that I am finding peace when my head is often left spinning from my paradoxical home here? I hate the trash, the smells, the congestion, the traffic, the poor stray dogs, the stares and always having to practice patience. Sometimes I just want to have my cake and eat it too. But India is most endearing in an inexplicable way. I wouldn't change this experience for the world. The lessons I am receiving are not always clear and only time will tell. One thing is for certain. Life is not perfect. As a wise Swami I recently heard speak said, "Change is inevitable." My Grandma, so wise herself, recently mentioned, "It's just a part of life- you gotta take the good with the bad."

On days and moments when I am not so in love with India, I just think to myself-I may not understand this paradoxical life, but just keep moving, flowing. You don't change India. It changes you.

Photos from our retreat to Thailand: