Privacy and Boundaries

These two concepts do not exist here in India. I suspect this is because people are used to living in close quarters, practically on top of each other, in an already incredibly crowded country.

Staring is acceptable. So is looking in someone's windows, approaching strangers, taking pictures of you without your permission.  I have had to shoo people away from Oliver and myself many times. One of the first Hindi terms I was taught here was "Behen chode"; as I understand it, this is a crude way of  telling someone they sleep with their sister. My friend told me to use this if I was ever harassed and remind the people harassing me they have mothers and sister that they wouldn't want treated that way. Thankfully, I haven't had to say it. I have, however, gotten in people's face and done my share of yelling and middle finger raising (I'm not proud of it).  I learned early that my midwestern "Hello! How are you?" and a wave was an invitation to be followed and or flirted with. I stopped greeting people beyond a quick "namaste" and tend to avoid people's eyes. I quickly developed a sneer that I would engage when I heard cars and motorcycles slowing to a stop behind me. "Get away" I would snap in Hindi, thankfully they have all chuckled and gone on their way. 

Beyond harassment, we have had people walk the entire way into town with us. Trying to engage with Oliver, or just merely along for the stroll. In Chicago, I have walked off of a bus with several people  and someone always decides to be the fast one, someone else the slow one, others crossing the street so that no one has to walk "together". I have had ayah's here see me and Oliver coming and wait for us to catch up with them and then walk along the rode next to us, silent, not even making eye contact until they or we turn off. Bizarre.

This creeper above in the aqua shirt found us playing in the river while on vacation with a few other school families. We were in the most desolate place I have been here in India. Yet, he came out of the woods, walked up to us and stood there staring for about ten minutes. Seriously? Maybe he hadn't seen people in a long time; it was a pretty isolated place we were staying in. Maybe he was curious about the babies, or that we were white. Who knows, but I just cannot ever imagine someone walking up to a sandbox in a park and just standing there staring. People would call the cops. Or at least, move their children to a different location.

The picture taking is getting obnoxious now that we have so many Indian tourists coming up to the mountains to cool off. I have had people screech their bike to a halt, jump off, snap a picture of us and jump back on in less than 15 seconds. People will drive by as Oliver and I are walking home and stick a video camera out of the window at us. Because walking is so fascinating? I don't get it. We are strangers. Are they going to go home and post us on Facebook? The security men at school are constantly whipping out their phones to take pictures of Oliver. "Show wife" is often what they tell me. 

The boundaries at home are so different in India. Can you imagine showing up at someone's house, knocking once and then opening the door and walking in? We are vigilant door-lockers here because people knock once and then try the handle. I could be naked! Or asleep! At hotels it is the worst because there are no deadbolt locks. Everything is a sliding lock that you then use a padlock to secure. If Andy is out of the room, and he wants to get back in, I can't lock to door from the inside because he won't be able to unlock it. I have had so many hotel staff members just walk into our rooms; knocking optional. Once I got so fired up because they woke Oliver up to serve us room service that we hadn't ordered. Though I thought I had convinced them they had the wrong room, they came back two minutes later, walking in again trying to convince me that I had indeed ordered coffee and an omelette. 

There is little to no filter on what people will tell you. Everyone wants to ask how much you paid for something, or how your bowels are (this topic most often comes up while you are eating), or tell you how your body looks. For our entire time here, older Indian women have told me I am "too slim." That I need to eat more and exercise less to be able to keep up with Oliver. One woman pointedly told me I must be "sad [my] breasts are so small." Wow. One morning a mother of one of Andy's students told me I was gaining weight. She said, "I can tell, your face is puffy." Never mind that I only slept four hours the night before. She went on, "If you are not careful, you will become a fat housewife!" I muttered "awesome" under my breath and bite my tongue. My friend Sandy, from Delhi, told me that complete strangers on the street will come up to her husband and tell him he is getting fat. She said that people are so used to commenting on each other that they don't see any topic as rude or off limits.  Just yesterday Oliver and I tried our hardest to sit through the end of the year assembly.  We made it 15 minutes. One mother, whom I have never seen before, told me "You really ought to make him sit still. he is too energetic." Woman, please...

Here's what a will miss about the lack of boundaries...there is no wrong way to do something. I have a friend who was told at work that people are not allowed to knock on a certain supervisor's door; the must email them first and be sure it's alright. Even though he is just down the hall. That would never be the case here. I have certain people in the states that I only communicate with via email; phone calls and visits don't/won't happen. Here, face to face is preferred. Voice to voice is the next best option. Texting is just starting to take off here. I hope it isn't as popular as it is in the states. I really prefer talking to people and I think our Indian friends do to. I will miss being treated like everyone's friend. We have met people for the first time and ten minutes later they tell us "Our house is your house. Our car is your car. You are family now." I love that after one year here store owners are inviting me and Oliver up for tea, know our names, know where we live, know what we like. I will miss this. Not the creepers stalking us from the bushes, but I will miss all the other people tremendously.