Semester at Sea Fall
2006 Voyage
|
|
TABLE
OF CONTENTS
|
Driving
Home in
By Becka
Maybe it’s silly to be afraid as the rickshaw driver turns down a side street, but I can’t squelch the feeling. To the left a group of children stand naked in the street, plastic bags over their hands, and play with something that might be mud or clay on a wooden table. Whatever the substance is, they’re covered in it from head to toe, except their hands. The driver pulls to a stop and we sit and wait. He returns and ushers us down a street, the fear that had begun to die away comes back, stronger than ever. I can’t help thinking what are we doing? Outside of a doorway stands a woman with grey hair, he speaks with her quickly and grinning widely, brings us through the door-way into a small, two-roomed house, if you can call it that.
There are
two lawn-chairs in the larger room, in front of a television, which,
aside from
the lights and DVD In the background his father
changes the channel on the TV set for his wife to some other movie,
subtitled
in Hindi and I wonder if anthropologist Sara Dickey is right when she
says that
“. . . cinema both plays on these fantasies [of an easier life] and
verifies
the inner worth and righteous character of the lower classes” in India
(16). |
Return to course home | Send me
your
comments: Evilimp123@gmail.com |