Women Don't Wear Jeans: Rajasthan, Part II

Life in Rajasthan is an open one, at least in comparison with the west. Domestic life spills onto the streets and sidewalks here, from squabbles between children to the gossip shared by men sipping their afternoon tea. Marketplaces dot the roadsides, always bustling, wares sold right out in the open; homes often have open doors, their insides visible to the outside world. During the summer, many people sleep outside, their beds right out under the stars. Privacy, one easily imagines, would be hard to come by in a place like this.

On the streets people crowd one another, often bumping arms and elbows. Children chase each other around the pressed together bodies, faces cracked open in glee. Women huddle together in colorful saree sunbursts, not at all shy about staring at the goings on around them. There's cow patties to avoid stepping on, flies hovering over all the flesh, stray dogs getting kicked at, men spitting up whatever it is their chewing -- a beautiful gutter of humanity. Everything is right out there in the open, from the children being bathed by their mothers to the men haggling over the price of postage stamps.

Here in Rajasthan, modernity has yet to replace the world that existed before the advent of light bulbs and disposable lighters. Bicycles and camels are as common as cars, or even more so in smaller villages. Many small homes don't have electricity, and, in the country, no glass in the windows. In many parts of Rajasthan the schools don't even have air conditioning.

Western culture has yet to make major inroads into the society here. Women rarely -- if ever -- wear jeans in public, sticking to the traditional dress or something equally modest. The music blaring away on radios is more Bollywood than Hollywood, and the films on display at the cinema are all Indian made. While chains like Pizza Hut and McDonald's are around, they are very few and far between.

This isn't to say that Rajasthan is a romantic place with its rugged landscape and proud traditions.
Life here is harsh. Drought plagues the region, driving many farmers to pack up their bags and head for the cities. The countryside is filled with people who are painfully thin to look at, their bones lifting up through the fabric of their clothing. Getting enough to eat is a major problem here. Pollution is another issue in the area, with piles of unimaginable filth lining streets and sidewalks in every city, town and village. Cows and pigs wander the streets in search of food, picking at the plastic bags and garbage that inevitably get twisted up inside their intestines. Because society is so stratified, the poor and women often have a difficult time getting educated. The literacy rate, as of 2001, was a little over 60%, with much lower figures for females and rural villagers.

Women especially seem to have a hard time here. For centuries Rajasthan was a Mughal stronghold, and a center of Islamic influence. The Muslim tradition still has powerful roots here, and attitudes toward gender have a decidedly dictorial feel. Men and women do not touch each other in public, and are rarely seen together unless as husband and wife. Wives often walk behind their husbands, and, at meal time, will let their men eat first. A son is looked upon as a blessing, while giving birth to a daughter is often seen as an economic curse because of the dowry system.

I was surprised when I learned that widow burning (sati) had once been a common practice in Rajasthan. When her husband died, a woman's role in society was reduced, and her life no longer held as much meaning. A devout Hindu could choose to burn herself on her husband's funeral pyre, becoming a sati, or virtuous woman. This act took her directly to heaven. Sometimes these virtuous women would be worshipped as goddesses upon their death, because the act was seen as so holy.

The act of sati was outlawed by the government years ago, but still happens today. In fact, one occurred while I was in Rajasthan. No one likes to talk about it much, and many people have mixed feelings on the subject -- in fact, many men and women feel, to this day, that widow burning is a holy act. The sites of modern widow burnings have turned into celebrated places, with pilgrims flocking to worship the burnt woman. Others, of course, denounce sati, citing it as being a form of murder. (There have been many instances where the widow burned did not voluntarily throw herself on the pyre, but was thrown into the fire by relatives or brothers/sisters in law.)

The lower status of women was driven home for me during an airline flight between two cities in Rajasthan. I had been standing in line to use the plane's only restroom, when a man cut in front of me to get to the bathroom first. Seriously irritated, I told him to move. He became very angry and made some rude comments about westerners.

The lovely and very educated guides we had in Rajasthan all felt it was important for women to be protected from male company before marriage. For the educated upper class, working outside the home was looked down upon in most instances. Only teachers and nurses got much respect for working outside the house. When my father explained to people that my mother was a university professor and "enjoyed working" they all looked horrified; he later figured out to simply tell people she was a teacher, which the locals found much more suitable.

My dad would involve himself in endless talks with our guides. They would ask him if I was allowed to date or have a boyfriend over to the house, and if he approved of who I dated. Being an American, of course I date, have had my share of boyfriends, and have certainly had guys over that my parents have been less than crazy about. My father would very carefully put an Indian spin on these facts, however. "Of course," he knew the guys I dated, and "of course" he knew their families and their backgrounds. When my long term boyfriend of 5 years had been brought up, my father made it sound like we were engaged -- something the guides heartily approved of.

The way I viewed the position of women in Rajasthan is, of course, flawed. I am an outsider, and know nothing of the people or customs. I realize this and tried hard in Rajasthan to not pass judgement over the local culture. Their system of strict gender roles obviously has benefits, otherwise it would not be in place centuries later. However, some of the time I was disturbed by the treatment of women, and it was (and is) impossible for me to fully accept and appreciate the local system.

One integral part of Rajasthani culture that I came to understand, however, was arranged marriage. Being one of those dreaded 'free and liberated western women', my initial reaction to this concept was one of disgust. Marriage, in my eyes, was based on love and choice, not practicality and social rank. The thought of having my parents pick out a man for me to spend the rest of my life with sent me into revulsion -- god knows what kind of spouse they'd decide on for me. (Probably some rich Jewish doctor with a balding head and deep pockets.) However, once in Rajasthan, I was able to see how arranged marriages can work beautifully under the right social system. Mates can come to love one another, and marriages are often more stable because both husband and wife come from similar backgrounds and share common values. There is no tension over religion, as Hindus marry Hindus, and the problem of sex before marriage (for girls, anyway) and potential pregnancies are avoided.

Many of the locals I spoke with, in fact, felt the western way of approaching love was entirely wrong. Relationships based on lust were sure to fail, as sexual sparks always fade in the end. Marriage based on common values and economic security are far more likely to last, and a better environment to raise healthy, stable children. American divorce rates were especially despised, and sexual freedom before marriage was looked on askance.

There is absolute truth in the fact that many Americans marry for the wrong reasons, mixing lust and love up with another. The traditional Indian attitude toward arranged marriage gave me a lot of food for thought, and allowed me to begin thinking in a different way about relationships.

I'm going to continue more in the next post -- the infamous hospitality of the Rajputs will be discussed -- and my ALMOST DEATH BY CAMEL experience. Until then, hold tight.