Thanksgiving 2008: Part I

As Monsoon Season comes on full force, so do the beanies and wool coats. Yes, even here. Even in the humidity. Several of my miniscule co-workers wear three layers of clothing under their jackets. I shudder at the thought of one moving to Australia in February, where she will live for three years. Okay, in reality I envy her for having this opportunity; but I do fear for her losing limbs due to frostbite during the winters down under. It is currently 75 degrees Fahrenheit as I write, and yet, she told me she had worn socks, gloves, and six layers of clothing to bed this week! Ah, winter in South Asia.

We experienced thunder and lightning the other night. Waking up in the wee small hours of the morning to what sounded like the aluminum roof of our building cracking open, our awe and wonder was best expressed by one of my roommate's deep "WOAH." By the time we got up for work, that particular, powerful storm had passed.

Schools were closed yesterday because the streets were too flooded. Whereas at home, flooding is seen as a nuisance, here it is a major hazard. There are exposed wires, basically everywhere, and very close to the ground. On more than one occasion, I have almost choked on some strung at chin-level in my neighborhood. The water-and- electrical-wire combo does not bode well for the large quantities of humans wading through the city to get to work, school, food, higher ground…wherever. Plus, the pathways most frequented by pedestrians contain manholes every ten feet, or so.

In an effort to speed up the draining process, these death traps are often left wide-open throughout the season. Luckily, I had been warned of this and, therefore, steer clear. On the ride home from work yesterday, however, I witnessed the rescue of a pitiful soul, who could not have known the manhole was even there due to the gallons of rain water that had accumulated around it into a ten-foot-wide pond. Others watched a woman walking in front of them disappear completely, as she was submerged in one such hole. Luckily, people were close enough to fish her out. And still another friend was horrified to see a man fall into a ditch hidden on the side of a road by the muddy waters and have to be rescued by others that literally dove in after him. Can you imagine? Not knowing how to swim, as most of my co-workers confess to, and having to talk about nearly drowning in a drainage ditch? Ugh.

My biggest concern, however, is for the number of released laborers who live at the bottom slope of their villages. An aspect of the everyday oppression this group of people experience, and (sadly) expect, is being treated as the lowest-of-the-low in their society. So low, they are not even considered a part of the caste system (which is illegal here, but so ingrained, even educated people do not realize they are perpetuating the problem). As a result, they are given the worst land to build their homes upon: the most vulnerable, lowest, and furthest away from any roads or towns. Essentially, they are told to wait at the back of the line…for everything.

Home types range in the villages (just like in the city), but the most common materials used by our families are mud, straw, and tree-branch roofs. The community works hard to keep these clean and presentable, and the homes are well-made. But when the storms come, they are not able to withstand the elements. Rebuilding takes time, energy, and money that most of our families work very hard to earn and save. Not long ago, one middle-aged couple proudly took me on a "tour" of their newly-upgraded home. Their neighbors had all pitched in, and they had saved for months to build this exquisite mud structure: one AND A HALF rooms, with tall reeds that held up other reeds in what resembled a covered-porch. It was impressive. I'm anxious to visit their village this month to see how it has fared.

Today, Thanksgiving, I have much to be grateful for, as I sit at home high and dry. Due to the flooding, our office has been closed-so I actually HAVE to take the day off. Well, if I must…Cars are staying off the streets because of the high waters, so my co-workers that ride scooters and motorcycles to the office wouldn't stand a chance. Plus, many are without electricity (including us, on and off, as mentioned in my earlier post) and several inches of water are covering the floor of others' homes.

Oh, there is so much more to say about today alone. I've written a small novella already, however, and will, therefore, save the rest for another post. Stay tuned…