Category: Culture

Everything cultural that interests me: music, reading, science, arts in general, news, photography…

Books [en]

I’m running out of books to read. During the last couple of weeks, I have been devouring them like the bookworm I once was – and it is a very satisfying feeling.

After Pinki Virani’s book, I swallowed up Jhoompa Lahiri’s Interpreter of Maladies – a very nice collection of short stories.

I followed with Naipaul – India: A Wounded Civilization. An astounding but somewhat depressing essay on Indian culture. A book that I will put at the top of my list of recommended reading for anyone who wants to try and understand India – from inside or out. I have a good mind to read it again and summarize its main lines of thought for you; but you’re going to read it all the same, aren’t you?

The next in line is called Ladies Coupé. Through the train journey of a woman who has never married because she has worked all her life to support her family, we are allowed into the lives of these six women who find themselves together in the ladies coupe. Six different lives, six different stories.

After quickly going through a small collection of science fiction stories my roommate had brought with her, I went begging around for something to read. I was handed the first of the Harry Potter books, which I read from cover to cover in the space of an evening and a morning. I’m not one to fall for crazes and cults, but I’ll definitely read the other ones.

I hope there is a good bookstore in Haridwar.

AIDS Awareness [en]

Young sexually active Indians (or those about to be so) appear to be no different from their western counterparts when it comes to AIDS awareness. They know they don’t have AIDS. The also know that their girlfriend/boyfriend doesn’t have AIDs, because he/she either is a virgin or has slept only with this or that person, known to be “safe”. Prostitutes and people who inject drugs are those who might have AIDS, not normal people – unless they have had to receive blood.

This is the kind of thinking which is allowing AIDS to spread amongst the heterosexual population, particularly teenagers.

Now, let’s stop and think. If a boy has had unprotected sex with a prostitute, and fears he might have AIDS, will he feel free to talk about it to his peers? What would be the reaction if he did? If a girl or a boy has been sexually abused or raped, recently or as a child, will it be said? Remember Pinki Virani’s (prudent) numbers: four girls out of ten; one boy out of four. In the newspaper the other day, I saw much more scary numbers – probably closer to reality: six girls out of ten, and four boys out of ten.

Bitter Chocolate [en]

Rishikesh, 26 August 01

I’ve finished reading another disturbing book. After the concentration camps of World War II and Partition, here comes Bitter Chocolate by Pinki Virani – a study on Child Sexual Abuse in India.

One out of four boys. Four out of ten girls. In all social classes, from lower to upper. By aggressors of same or different sex. The rare comlaints filed take years to reach court. More often than not, they are dismissed for lack of conclusive evidence.

My new “tagline” for India is The Country of Red Tape. Related, this example of Indian logic, excerped from Pinki Virani’s book.

A young boy is abused in his school by a meditation summer class teacher. The parents refuse to report the case to the police. Another parent, a lawyer, alarmed by the fact that this same teacher has been invited to give classes in his son’s own school, decides to write to the police commissioner, detailing the whole incident.

On 25 October 1999, Raju Zunzarrao Moray gets a visitor from the police station near his residence.

The police officer tells him, ‘Your complaint to the police commissioner has come to us. We were well aware of the incident but no one came forward to register it as a case. This is the first written complaint on the matter, so you are our First Informant. Therefore, we will have to start our investigations with you first.’

All right, is Raju Moray’s reaction, but then what.

‘After investigating you, we will investigate everyone else.’

‘Okay,’ says Raju Moray, ‘but just remember that I was not an eyewitness to even the boy who came home hurt. You need to speak with the boy’s family.’

‘We will.’

A doubt flickers in Raju Moray’s mind. ‘By now the boy has gone back to Pune. Suppose his family here says nothing of the sort happened.’

‘Then it will be assumed that you have made a false complaint.’

‘What absolute nonsense!’

‘Not nonsense; it is a serious matter to make a false complaint.’

‘But it is not a false complaint.’

‘If you cannot prove it, it is; also, then you have no business to unnecessarily clutter up our files and cause us unnecessary hardship.’

Raju Moray re-starts the conversation, ‘Listen, let us assume—correctly, since I know what they have decided—that the boy’s grandfather says that there was no incident. Then what?’

‘Then we will call you to the police station to question you on why you filed a false complaint.’

‘But it is not… oh all right, then what happens?’

‘Then we will call you, and we will call you again for questioning, as and when the need arises.’

‘I have to go to court you know, I have to be available for my clients and my practise. You should at least tell me when you would call me, I cannot come in the mornings, I can after court during the evenings. And, obvioulsy, I see no reason to come every day to simply sit in the police station.’

‘Then it is better you write a letter saying you are withdrawing your complaint so that we can close the file.’

‘But you have not even opened a case till now because no case has been filed. Where is the question of closing an un-opened file?’

‘These are technical matters; better you just say in a letter you are withdrawing your complaint.’

Please do read this very sensible book. Awareness is what is needed first – and your awareness could make the difference for someone. Whether or not you are in India or Indian.

Humanité [en]

IUCAA, 15 août 01, 22h30

Passant à  travers un groupe de mendiants dans mon rickshaw, j’ai compris en un éclair le sens qu’a ma lecture de Si c’est un homme alors que je suis en Inde. En apercevant une de ces jeunes femmes vêtues de haillons, un bébé au regard vide, s’il a un, jeté négligement sur l’épaule, j’ai réalisé que ce constat fait par Primo Levi sur la perte d’humanité dans les camps, j’avais eu l’occasion de le faire par moi-même, quoique d’une position bien extérieure, lors de mon séjour en Inde.

Il vient un moment où le sort des mendiants ne touche plus – surtout celui des enfants, et de ceux qui ne vendent rien – parce que leur lot les met tellement en marge de l’humanité qu’il n’est plus possible de s’identifier à  eux. Il vient aussi un moment où l’on accepte qu’en Inde un animal n’est qu’un animal, alors que dans notre occident privilégié ils jouissent d’un statut plus élevé que nombre d’hommes sur la planête – et cela même si la loi peine à  les voir autrement que comme des objets.

“Est-ce bien?”, “est-ce mal?” et “que vaut-il mieux?” sont les questions que je ne puis plus me poser pour l’instant.

Lecture [en]

IUCAA, 14 août 01, 23h00

Je suis en train de lire Si c’est un homme de Primo Levi. Récit de camp de concentration, lecture difficile — peut-être à  cause d’une sensibilité fragilisée par ce voyage — durant laquelle j’ai dû quoi qu’il en soit à  plusieurs reprises poser le livre quelques minutes avant de pouvoir continuer mon chemin à  travers ces mots disant tant de souffrance et d’humiliation.

Le plus dur est ce constat de Primo Levi qui se dessine au fil des pages: ce n’est pas le meilleur qui survit au camp, ni le plus digne, ni le plus courageux. Le camp pervertit l’humanité, et pour y survivre, il faut intégrer cette perversion. Etre un bon travailleur de camp qui “fait ses heures” et “se contente de sa ration”, c’est se destiner à  finir plutôt tôt que tard sous forme d’un petit tas de cendres. Les valeurs morales de notre société ne peuvent plus s’appliquer, et c’est le règne de la dé-solidarité.

Primo Levi attribue les principales raisons de sa survie à  la chance et au hasard, et même si au fond je sais à  quel point le hasard joue dans nos vies, je ne peux me résoudre à  l’accepter. Je crois bien trop fort que nous sommes maîtres de nos destins, et que le cas échéant, une providence doit veiller sur nous. Le fait que la vie ou la mort dépende du hasard me révolte.

Mis à  part le fait qu’en tant que femme, j’aurais eu bien peu de chances de finir dans un camp de travail, je ne peux m’empêcher de me demander si donné les circonstances, j’aurais fait partie des élus ou des damnés. Et bien pire, je ne puis décider ce qui eût été préférable…

Life [en]

For any of you who were wondering, we made it home to Switzerland safely last night. Bagha was waiting for me, plump and hungry, and the temperature was so hot (even at 3:30 am!) that sleeping was near to impossible.

I’m deep in the Hitchhicker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and wondering how I managed to live so long without reading it.

Afghanistan [en]

Like I had, you have probably heard of the sad plight of women in Afghanistan under the Taliban fundamentalist gouvernment. They are not allowed to study or work. They are not allowed outside unaccompanied. They are deprived many rights we take for granted, even in the poorest countries.

Their fate is probably an abstract problem for you, a sad situation over which you have no hold, somewhere in a distant part of the world. At least, that’s how I saw it before I read an article in Marie Claire: Women Risking Their Lives for Education. I had received the email petition and dismissed it, as one should do with email petitions, but I just hadn’t realized how serious the situation was. And most of all, I hadn’t realized there was anything one could do about it.

RAWA is an underground organisation of Afghan women who fight for human rights and social justice in Afghanistan, amongst other things by providing education to girls. Their website provides information about RAWA’s social activities as well as an overview of the situation of Afghan women. You can also see some of the restrictions they suffer, as well as a frighteningly long list of links to individual stories. Of course, there is a photo gallery, but I haven’t had the courage to explore it.

Last but not least, they provide a very detailed page about how we can help them. They have published a booklet which one can sell or distribute, and are presently trying to re-open a hospital in neighbouring Pakistan. It is possible to specify for which purpose a donation is being made (web-based payment possible via PayPal).

Life [en]

In Switzerland, I would go simply everywhere with Cali. In rare cases, she would wait for me in the car, or tied up in front of the library. I took her in restaurants, went shopping for clothes with her, and she was even accepted in two of my university classes.

In England, you aren’t expected to go into town with your dog. The only ones around are those which inevitably accompany marginal people. I understood this yesterday when we went out for a walk/shop/coffee in Birmingham New Street.

We were asked to take her out of the coffee shop we had sat in, after our drinks had arrived. We were asked to take her out of the shopping mall, after we had been in there for an hour. No where did I see a sign forbidding dogs – I really had to look for it. Dogs aren’t allowed loose in the park. They aren’t really supposed to be on the university grounds, either.

Switzerland must be dog-owner’s paradise.