Jugaad - during my Fulbright in India

 

At our second meeting of the Jane Austen Book Club (JABC) I wanted to make scones. I thought the British tradition might transport us to Jane Austen’s time. However, I lacked several ingredients and tools needed to make scones. I don’t have an oven; I couldn’t get white flour, and vanilla extract is prohibitively expensive. So I “made do.” I’ve been doing that a lot during the past two months in India. One of the young ladies in the JABC informed me that “making do” is a very Indian proposition — so much so that there is a word for it— jugaad. Jugaad means making do. Jugaad is making something using what is available. Jugaad, or improvising, is a very common Indian practice. Instead of using an oven, I used the microwave/convection oven. Instead of using white flour, I used almond flour. I omitted the vanilla extract. Instead of zesting the orange peel, I used a knife to cut it into tiny pieces. The cranberry orange scones were not quite as big and fluffy as usual, but they were tasty! Jugaad!

In other areas of my life I have used jugaad— here are just a few. In the kitchen: At home, I have a large variety of implements and utensils (grater, peeler, zester); a variety of knives; many pots, pans, and baking sheets; a toaster, blender, and mixer; and all kinds of spatulas and large spoons. Here I have one small knife; forks, spoons, and knives; one pot, one pan, and a bowl. That’s it! We make toast in the pan—it’s convenient to fry an egg on one side and toast bread on the other; if you don’t have a spatula, use a common table knife; get some exercise and beat your batter or cream by hand. I can make simple meals with what I have.

Technology: One classroom I use has no technology— no computer or projector. The other room, pictured at right, has computers that sometimes work.

There are ways to teach with technology without having technology in the classroom. No, that’s not antithetical. To use a PowerPoint in the classroom, I use Nearpod. It’s an app where students can view PowerPoints on their phones. They can also take polls (PollEverywhere) and quizzes (Kahoot or Socrative) on their phones, and contribute to word clouds (Answer Garden). Even if the power goes out, which it frequently does but usually not for very long, we can still access our phones. Once when I was teaching Research Methodology the power went out for about 45 minutes. I opened the doors to let the breeze cool us off, as the ceiling fans had stilled. My laptop still had power and I was connected to WiFi, so I held up my laptop and continued to teach. We don’t let small inconveniences like a lack of power stop us from teaching and learning!

My husband Bill and I have learned to practice jugaad in several other ways while living here in India (or just a simpler lifestyle): we wash our clothes by hand in a bucket; my hair gets a blow-dry on the rickshaw ride to school; if the power goes out our phones have a flashlight; paper clips can be used as screwdrivers; cold showers are refreshing; if you run out of bug spray, invite some lizards in, or turn up the AC and dive under the covers; if you can’t make copies of documents….. no, I draw the line there. I’m not going back to the days of monks and copying a document by hand 20 times! If all else fails, take a nap! Please add your own jugaad fixes in the comments below!

Cats on a Hot Tin Roof

 

Cats on a hot tin roof; 

This is not a spoof. 

I caught them in the act, 

plodding without tact; 

no quiet creeping fog,

but sounds like a dropped log 

wake me at 6 a.m. 

an alarm I condemn.

Three small, thin, wastrel cats  

sleep on our roof on mats,

but before the sun rises

they start their surprises—

jumping, falling, leaping,

above our bodies sleeping;

our rest is interrupted;

our sleep is cut, abrupted.

After the cats, the birds

wake us without words—

the cuckoos call coo-ee

it’s morning, don’t you see?

Crows join the morning chorus,

caw, caw, caw —please join us—

reminds me of Dad’s ritual

in feeding crows was punctual.

If birds do not interrupt

my sleep, nor dreams disrupt,

dogs will inevitably

bark most capably.

It seems to be my fate

to not sleep in till 8.

If Indian sounds in the morn

from our lives were shorn—

would we regret the loss,

or then become less cross?

Would extra hours of sleep

make up for loss of peeps?

I cannot make a choice

to deprive of a voice,

animals, and birds that sing

a welcome to morning bring.

Vikram Seth’s Golden Gate inspired me to write in verse rather than prose for this blog post.

Saree day and cultural appreciation (not appropriation)

      Thursday was Saree Day at Fergusson College. I draped my fancier saree and took an Uber Auto rickshaw to the college. The female students normally dressed in kurtas and leggings, or salwar kameez, or t-shirts and jeans, were now decked out in vibrant, sparkling sarees—shocking pink to pale purple to crimson red to cobalt blue (most a combination of the above!). The young ladies dazzled in their finery. Long, dangling gold earrings, elaborate nose rings, and necklaces gracing the forehead (bindi) completed the look. Bindis dotted the spot between eyebrows recently plucked or threaded. Young men and women took pictures outside—in pairs, groups, or alone. It looked like young people preparing to go to prom, but in India, there was no prom. There was, however, a raucous, exuberant dance party outside the following day.

      I admired all the finely-dressed students and joined in the picture-taking. Some of my students wanted to add a bindi to my forehead—when I asked what it signified I heard a variety of responses: wisdom; married status; belonging… to a husband, or to God; fashion statement; status alert; religious devotion. All my students were thrilled to see me in a saree, and everyone who talked to me had the same query: “did you drape it yourself?” asked one. “Did you tie it on by yourself?” asked the general. They were more impressed I could put it on properly than by the fact I wanted to wear it. And I did want to wear it. I enjoy wearing sarees—they make me feel beautiful! The housekeeper/cook at our Airbnb, in her limited but expressive English, pronounced me, “Indian! Nice.” 

      I ask myself, where is the line between cultural appreciation and cultural appropriation. All of my sarees were gifted to me by Indian girlfriends. All my students and colleagues smiled when they saw me in a saree. I appreciate many aspects of Indian culture, clothing, and food are at the top of the list. Cultural appropriation is “the unacknowledged or inappropriate adoption of the customs, practices, ideas, etc. of one people or society by members of another and typically more dominant people or society” (Wikipedia). Using this definition as a guide, I don’t think my use of Indian attire is appropriation. I hope my appreciation and acknowledgment of Indian beauty and customs are evident in my behavior and attitude. I was hesitant to wear the bindi as I somehow felt that was crossing a line from appreciation to appropriation—as maybe a nose ring would be for me. But where is the line, and how do we know if we’ve crossed it? I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please comment below.

People and Parrots

People and Parrots We are here in Pune, India, for my Fulbright Fellowship after a 2-year COVID delay. The Air India flight was as good as a 13-hour flight can be. The transfer in Delhi was a bit stressful as we didn’t know we had to go through Immigration and then come back in through security to board our flight to Pune. Once we arrived at the Pune airport, the hotel driver was right there waiting for us and we made the Ramee Grand Hotel our home for the week. The hotel was quiet and well equipped, but the best parts were the staff and the food. The exemplary staff met our every need, including having the driver take us to an office to get some money changed when we didn’t have success just showing up to a bank. The hotel is a short walk - maybe a kilometer (as it seems everything is just about a kilometer away, even if it isn’t!) from the college. Fergusson College Road (FC Road) is teeming with people, shops, auto-rickshaws, bicycles, cars, cabs, and more people. As in any big city, there were beggars—like NYC there are extremes in India, the poor and the rich cohabit the city. One unique experience was a short, older, Indian woman dressed in a simple saree holding a plate with flowers and colors (maybe for Holi), who walked beside me and then swiped her thumb upward on my forehead…whether in a blessing or a plea for me to purchase something, I’ll never know.

We were encouraged and blessed by the warm welcome we received at Fergusson College. A few days after our initial visit I met with students who expressed an interest in my two classes—Creative Writing and Research Methodology (something for the right brain and the left brain!). Then on Wednesday, we moved into our cottage for the duration in a lovely area of Pune, Aundh. The garden, replete with all kinds of birds I hope to soon identify, was the big selling point for me. The green parrot above was one of dozens, I’m not exaggerating, who live in the trees surrounding the Ramee Grand Hotel. When dusk falls, the parrots come out and fly around from treetop to treetop—an amazing sight. I won’t bore you with the numerous forms, FRRO, SIM card, and other technicalities we had to take care of this first week. All in all, it was a good start to our adventure in India. Stay tuned!