July 19, 2015
Today I feasted with Muslims
I was nervous when an ex-racer who has been staying with us, told us excitedly how she had gotten us invited to spend the day-after-Ramadan festival with a bunch of bachelors at their apartment. I’ll be pointed: Islam makes me very nervous. I know full well that Muslims are people just like me; they just have a different faith. I know full well that they are typically a kind and hospitable people. But when I stopped to consider the idea of a team of women, going to a party at the house of a bunch of bachelor Muslims, whom we don’t know, in India, where we are strangers, I was pretty uncomfortable and spending some serious time in prayer. (For the record, the ex-racer friend that got us the invite, is here with her VERY tall, husband. The ONLY reason I even considered going was because we would be accompanied by a man; which, for those of you that don’t know, seriously matters in this sort of culture/situation)
I was going into a situation that, on the surface, broke some very important safety rules. I was going into it because people with more experience than I, were encouraging us to do so. And seriously, Ramadan has always fascinated me; and how many opportunities does a girl get to celebrate the end of Ramadan with a bunch of friends and a bunch of strangers in India?!
Now, as it just so happens, there’s more to the story.
My team and I had recently visited the Shulparamam market for the first time. (for the record, this is my FAVORITE place to shop here) While we were there, there was this particular guy who annoyed me ever so slightly. He was shamelessly flirtatious. He was endlessly pushy about us visiting his shop. And I felt like every time I turned around, there he was trying to get us to sit and talk with him.
So as our dear trusted friend was gushing about how excited she was about us going, I started to get a very strong feeling that we were going to the house of this very same fellow and his friends…
We arrived by auto, he came to meet us, and sure enough! Same fellow.
Of course I’ve sort of left out the fact that in order to avoid him and his shop, I was just a bit rude….. heh.
So that wasn’t awkward at all.
He did recognize us, we all recognized him, and explained that our host had warned us to stay away from ‘friendly’ men while staying in India. He understood perfectly, we apologized, and all proceeded to have a MOST excellent time.
Now let me make one thing clear here: India knows hospitality. I mean these people really know how to make their guests feel comfortable. It never ceases to amaze me. When they have a guest, nothing matters to them except the comfort of that guest. And they’re all so excited to have white people as their guests! haha!
When we entered the home of these new friends of ours, they truly treated us like royalty. We were adamantly told to make ourselves comfortable. (in any room we wanted, no less) We were welcome to go were we wanted, do what we wanted; and inform them if there was anything we didn’t have, that we wanted. We were sitting on thick comfy mats on the floor, and when I shifted one too many times because my back was aching a bit, (I’m still getting used to the constant floor sitting) he insisted that I move to the wall where I could lean against the pillow that he rushed to get for me.
We were served chai, cookies, snacks, and THE MOST delicious Indian food I have had since we got here. They even made sure that there was a dish for us that wasn’t spicy. And, of course, no meal is complete without shining conversation; of which we had plenty.
I really can’t quite describe the enjoyment of that day; I really can’t quite describe the lessons I gained from it. But I can say: Outside the box is where it all happens. If you don’t ever leave your safe, comfortable little box; then safe, comfortable little walls is all you will ever know. If you never take some slight risks, you will never learn how to tell which risks are worth taking.
