The real homestay.

May 27th.

So I ended up spending about 3 days, 2 nights with Radha’s family and it was absolutely wonderful.

Her family (in order of family hierarchy):
Her mother – Daviki
Her older brothers – Govind and Trilok
Her older sister – Jugdamba
Radha – 20 yrs old
Her sister in law (Govind’s wife): Garima
The kids: Garima’s daughter – Kushi (3yrs old)
Rajul (Radha’s nephew from another sister, 10yrs old)

Radha has 4 sisters that have been married and now live in their husband’s home.

Observations and such from my homestay:

Radha didn’t know for sure that Garima was pregnant until I asked, and then she asked her mother. She’s 4 months pregnant.

I have to trot down the steep path to the house to keep up with Radha who has a large bucket of water on her head.

Her older sister delegates all chores. They jokingly call her “boss”

The whole family is always laughing. They are concerned about me when I start thinking and looking serious.

They ask me for remedies to help their cracked heels, eyes, skin, etc

I give vitamins to Radha for Kushi’s cold.

Garima knows quite a lot of English. She has studied until 12th class and she is 28, yet inferior in the family because she is related through marriage. She’s really wonderful and I think the family likes her a lot, but she is still the sister-in-law. Radha is quite rude to her, since she is the only one that Radha can actually boss around. It’s difficult to see, because Radha is so sweet yet turns into someone else when dealing with Garima. I’ve noticied Garima only speaks to me in English when no one else is around. As I’m sitting on the kitchen floor eating lunch she pats the earthen floor and says, “Indian dining table.” “The best kind” I reply laughing.

The whole family partakes in raising Kushi, even the men. However when she is very upset she always calls for Garima, who still breast feeds her at the age of 3.

Radha adores her mother, I wonder how long ago her father passed away…

Daviki is a remarkable woman who is unfortunately aging quickly. Radha says she is about 50 years old, but I would easily estimate her to be 60+. She loves her family very much and would do anything for her daughters. Despite not speaking English we manage to communicate fairly well. I’m impressed she has continued to allow Radha to study at University in Almora.

I really hope Radha will take what we’ve learned from the interviews with her for the rest of her life. And that it influences her own choices about her health.

The family adores me. I love that they are willing to let me help. They understand the concept of “homestay” perfectly. Radha is an incredible host. I ate with the men/guests my first night and with the women in the kitchen my second. This is unusual, because the women always eat last and guests should be served separately. All my other meals have been just Radha and I. The family asks me questions, checks in on me and is eager to exchange a laugh. We communicate through food, Kushi, pictures, and Radha. Even though I am Radha’s guest and responsibility, everyone is eager to make sure I am comfortable, both physically and emotionally.

Radha is very apologetic about her house, lack of table, tv, etc. on my first day. But by my 2nd I think I’ve made it fairly clear how comfortable I am by eating with my hands, sitting on the floor, helping cook, and more. She still is always checking that everything is ok, but no longer apologizes.

Jugdamba wants to come to America with me. Her and Radha have both expressed that they will be sad when I leave. Garima asked if I will be returning. I wish I could stay longer. The truth though is that while I absolutely love it here, there are 2 things currently restricting the reality of me staying more nights:
I really need a proper shower.
I am getting mentally exhausted watching how hard these women work, I need a break.

I’m not cut out for hard labor, I can work for a couple hours on a project, but every day, all day, would destroy me. I’m realizing the longer I live (particularly in America), the less capable I am at maintaining the patience for labor and chores. Watching them walking around with 50lbs of fodder or fertilizer on their head makes me nauseous when I try to imagine myself doing it. Sitting in the smoky kitchen for about an hour is my maximum. I don’t know I could even cook a dish sitting as close to the fire as they do.

The women’s feet are all severely cracked here. It starts young. They hike around in plastic flip-flops all day. It looks extremely painful. Again, I’ve been asked if I know a cure.

They have run out of water at their tap and everything they use now must come from the hand pump down the road and carried on their head to the house.

I milked the cow! At night, under the house, in my skirt, standing in cow shit. Jugdamba motions for me to crouch next to her. As I reach out for the udder the one dim light bulb goes out. I’m crouching in ripe fertilizer, surrounded on all sides by 4 cows, in pitch black. We both start laughing hysterically. After a couple minutes Trilok comes with a torch. Oh good, now I can see what I’m doing, now I just have to figure out what I’m doing…