Browsing ktravula – a travelogue! blog archives for May, 2010.

Travellers, we all.

The thought had crossed my mind at the dinner table at the house of a Palestinian professor of history Tamari’s on Wednesday evening. On one side of the table was my head of department, and on the other was Reham the Egyptian. Joyce, the oldest, was American, and I am you-already-know-what. The head of department, had just made a startling confession: her parents were German Jews who fled from Germany in 1939, first to Canada, and then to the United States. The confession, in its ordinariness, however brought a new dimension to a conversation on history, the commonness of our humanity, and migration.

Where are Jewish people originally from? I don’t know. But now they occupy the Palestinian region as a Jewish state of Israel. They used to live all over Europe and the Middle East for thousands of years. Sitting down there trying to get it all in, here was what my brain was trying to process: Jewish people in Europe (who had gone there from the middle east) were gassed in millions and some managed to flee to other parts of the world, adopting a new nationality and a new home. (Well, not quite. Belinda has confessed to have felt a certain homeliness anytime she visits Germany, in spite of the contradictions of the occasional meeting with descendants of people who just a couple of decades ago could have murdered her parents or sent them to the gas chamber.) As a result of their new nationalities, these travellers have become a new people: Americans. Not even a Jewish Americans or an American Jew, she is every inch American albeit with a certain longing for the beauty of Germany. Had Hitler not begun killing, she probably would not have been born, or she might not have been born in the United States. And there won’t have been the State of Israel, perhaps, and the displacement of the Palestinian people. But now, she’s no longer German. She wasn’t born in Germany; nor is she really Jewish. She doesn’t practice Judaism. Alright.

Now, our host professor is Palestinian. His people are regularly killed and/or victimized in Gaza and parts of today’s Israel by settlers (or state soldiers meant to protect settlers) many of whom are likely descendants of survivors from the pogrom of 1940 Europe. A sign at the entrance to his house says “No more war” or something to that effect. He is one of the softly-spoken people I’ve ever met. Brilliant and level-headed. He is a professor of history and he is as knowledgeable in the Palestinian cause as he is in the subject of the Jewish holocaust. Had he lived in Palestine or Israel today, he could have been killed by suicide bombers, or the Jewish state soldiers either for looking like a terrorist or throwing a rock at a soldier, or arrested for being outspoken against the state. Had Hiltler not started killing Jews in Europe, he could also have been born and raised in Palestine, where his ancestors lived and had land before they were evicted, living there till old age, and not ever having to have migrated to the United States, or meeting someone like Belinda, or myself.

Of course, if instead of coming to the West, Belinda’s parents had instead gone with the folks who founded the State of Israel, she could be a citizen of Israel by now, or a settler on occupied areas, or a supporter/descendant of those who evicted Palestinians from their lands, some of who might be related to Tamari. Just sitting there in their midst brought to me a new sense of amazement, at how something as little as migration could have changed the course of history.

Full Circle – Short Faction

Written at Cougar Village.

Looking up into the predictable night sky, he saunters home. In other climes, he might have been a little high on the freedom of the night to surprise, and to appease his seething exhilaration and bubbling fears. Here, he just paces home in little steps that completely ignore the need for caution, yet a buoyancy remains. Even the geese have gone to bed, and the road is free of any surprises. Only the warm wind blows from all directions, and his open shirt blows with it opening spaces around his armpit and exiting through his similarly open cuffs. From afar and against the background of light – except for the colour of his shirt or the size of his frame – he could have been mistaken for a waving flag, or a moving scarecrow.

Once upon a time this was home to more shuffling feet and heaps of snow. But that was then. Once upon a time, trees and their leaves that now whistle with the night shedding grains of white pollinated flowers were only high and dry, and winter shook the alien city to the barest limit of its own survival. Then there was nothing but death and dryness, and a certain music to the melancholy of heavy and seemingly wounded trees. It was seasonal. Hope had sprung up later like the flowers that now scatter on his head from on top of the tall pine trees. All in one night the change came, suddenly and without warning. Even to him a traveller, it was an unexpected miracle of a seasonal revival.

Like a visitor in a now growing market place, he looks around again with a certain brightness. The fears that returned were about how in a different place and a different time this might have been unwise, coming home at this time of the night. In his mind was something similar to a mother’s scoff of a rage: “Bloody fool, you toss your life around like a game of cards.” The delight in mischief of such confrontations has gone now, and only a nostalgic smile remains drawn on the face of the dark night sky that breathes on his upward gaze. Like looking at a mirror of one own smeared reflection, he muses, head up towards a direction that could only be east, judging by the position of the crescent moon. Home lies there, he whispers.

Places

Here are the reports of a few of the most interesting places of interest I’ve been in the last ten months, with pictures. Enjoy.

Boston

Cahokia

Chicago, and Chicago

Carbondale

Principia

St. Louis and St. Louis

Washington DC and Washington DC

Nigerian Blog Awards

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Information about the 2010 Nigerian Blog Awards is here. It’s like the internet Oscars for the Nigerian bloggers.

Check it out, and nominate your favourite blogs for any of the 30 categories listed this year. It definitely sounds exciting.

India – Gender and Human Dignity

Here’s a guest post by a friend and colleague Catherine Xavier. In this write-up, she talks about the less talked-about “third gender” in India – a class of people maltreated and discriminated against on the basis of their sexual orientation. Read it up to see why they do not fall into the class of homosexuals or lesbians or transgenders, but a different category of men raised or conditioned from birth to behave like women. There is a Youtube video interview with one of them here, for anyone interested in further information on the matter.

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The India society is patriarchal to the core – simply stated, men rule the roost. The society in general seems to have resigned to this, while women have been forced to reconcile to be the ‘fairer sex’. However, we are a society that worships women. Our goddesses of strength, wisdom, love, and power, are all personified as women. I cannot understand that irony here; India has one of the highest rates of female infanticide and dowry-deaths, while the society and the government claim to vigorously promote the girl-child and women’s emancipation. How can a society that boasts of a rich, ancient, and varied culture simultaneously glorify and dehumanize women  – how can mythical womanhood be celebrated and worshiped in the form of a  goddess at the temple, while helpless women are subject to eve-teasing, torture, abuse, discrimination, and unspeakable indignity. I was taught as a young girl that there is greater modesty in ignoring the lewd comments from your male counterparts, as it saves a woman a lot of shame and disgrace – yes, the same society that celebrates week-long festivities in honor of women deities, while sublimely accepting its men resorting to eve-teasing, ogling, and trying to grab women’s breasts in crowded public places.

I could write a lot about the Indian mentality of gender discrimination and the stifling of individual feminine freedom. However, I choose to focus on that part of Indian sexuality and gender that is not broached by most Bollywood movies or Indian novels (You can find this on the BBC though). The simple truth is that the Indian society recognizes only two types of genders – male and female. We prefer to be oblivious to the third gender classification: the hijras or eunuchs.

Hijras are physiological males with feminine instincts. They adopt feminine identities and don feminine attires. The Indian society describes the hijras as ‘neither men nor women’ thereby, making them the most ostracized section of our society. Young boys with feminine instincts are a shame to their family and to the society. Most times, the family is not supportive because they fear social boycott; they abandon these young men who are forced to live with people like them, thought they are not their kith and kin. I doubt if our society recognizes the trauma that the family and the young man go through in this entire ordeal of family bonding, wanting to belong, social belonging, and social abandonment. Most times, the hijras are castrated and they earn a living by working as sex slaves, and by performing dances at the weddings and birth ceremonies of the so-called cream of our society.

It is so strange that though the hijras have a recorded history of living in groups in India since the 17 century, the Indian constitution does not guarantee them any rights – it does not even provide validity to the marriage of hijras. Ironically, the Hindu religious texts in India have several references to them since ancient times; while our society has never accorded them any respect.  I am sure that in the US, there is greater privacy, legal protection, and respect for human dignity of the parents and the young man involved. In India they are a joke, everyone laughs at them, pokes fun at them, and metes out violence and abuse to them – worse still, Bollywood portrays them as comic relief. They are no special schools for them, and regular boys/girls schools do not admit hijras – hence 95-96% of hijras are uneducated; carrying with them all the evils of illiteracy – who is to blame???

I just discovered today in a conversation with a friend that the Hijras are becoming a more and more organized community in India –the faint sign of conviction of their part and an utter failure of social justice on the part of the Indian society. I was happy to hear that hijras celebrate communal fellowship and festivities every year at a temple in Villupuram district of Tamilnadu in India, and this festivity encompasses their marriage to a god ( because  mortals are far too superior for the hijras, I guess), and to discuss their hijra rights. I would be very curious to see how they react – a caste of India that has endured the most unspeakable indignity and shame – they sure have a right to the heights of indignation towards a society that simply fails to acknowledge and respect human dignity. I wish a goddess could appear overnight to shed wisdom on the males and females of our society, while soothing the scars of abuse and shame endured by the hijras in India.

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Catherine is an MBA holder from Southern Illinois University Edwardsville, and a PhD student in the University of Arkansas.