Dinner at Durqa's

I originally wrote this as a letter to Lois but due to vacationing and not bringing my letter along to send I will put it here for all to read because truly it is an important issue that I face everyday.  I wrote this letter to Lois because of all the beautiful women in my life she is the strongest advocate of feminism in my life.

Lois,

Today was a beautiful day.  Jonathan came this weekend.  On Saturday we went to see some cave paintings and an ancient temple which was carved into a hillside.  It was very cool.  Today we went to Durqa’s house for lunch.  Durqa works at the complex where I teach.  She cleans all the hostels all by herself.  She comes by our hostel all the time to relax and hangout with us.  I have really come to care for her and enjoy her company.

I never truly identified myself as a feminist.  I studied feminism in my gender studies course my junior year of college.  I loved learning about it and quickly became thankful for countless women who fought hard for me to be in that very seat in that classroom.  All during that time I never thought of myself as a feminist – even as I read sociology/anthropology texts about women suffering due to unequal treatment, social construction, or cultural gender roles.  I always was digging into the texts with a non-judgmental view point that my professors demanded of us, however, feminism was lurking in the back of my brain.  The authors I read, many were feminists but never made it the focus of their work but sure did make a point of mentioning it.  I guess for me ethnic/racial discrimination has always been of more importance.

Now here I am in India and I want to be a feminist.  It’s all I can think about sometimes.  I want to reinvest myself in gender studies.  I can sit for hours on my bed just analyzing male and female roles which I observe on a daily bases.

Back to Durqa and why I want to be a feminist.  Durqa is married to her uncle.  She is 35, her husband 60 years old.  He was previously married and his wife died.  Durqa was of marrying age and was married off to him, her uncle, at the age of 19.  Within a year of marriage she had her son.  Her husband already had a son from his first marriage so this made it a house with one husband and two sons to care for all by the age of 20.  Durqa’s husband drinks alcohol and no longer works, worst of all he is abusive to Durqa.  But to her it is not all that uncommon.  She was just dealt a bad husband and in order to be a good woman she must ‘adapt to the man’.  If she cannot ‘adapt to the man’ then she is a bad Indian woman.  This I have heard from several Indian women when talking about marriage.  This idea is upheld by women themselves-this is where sociology comes in and blows my mind.  Other women actually look down on other women who cannot ‘adapt’ and leave their husbands by running away or going back to their parents house.  They actually believe that these women are not good women.

We went over to Durqa’s house for dinner.  Her neighborhood is beautiful and obviously stricken by poverty.  The streets were lined with people sleeping on cots, people bathing, people doing wash and dishes, and people cooking – all this happening outside on the streets.  Kids ran around playing games.  Durqa instantly became a celebrity as she walked through the narrow streets with us.  People yelled her name and asked if we were her guests.  She shrugged like it was no big deal!  All the young girls followed us as Durqa led us upstairs to her apartment.  It is a small one room apartment with a wall dividing the kitchen, which is half the house, from the sleeping area which is where we sat while she bustled away in the kitchen.  Durqa got us settled with drinks and cookies which I brought for her as a treat.   Little girls stood in the doorway and peered in at us curious about these white people in their neighborhood.  Durqa addressed them endearingly and instructed them how to greet us in English as she continued to cook.  I got up and went to see her kitchen.  With pride she answered my questions about what all the strange tools were.  Her son soon returned and helped her get things ready to eat.  Her husband returned to the house shortly after and took a seat near us but did not really talk to us.  Durqa came in shortly thereafter and introduced us.  She returned to the kitchen and within 10 minutes came with plates overloaded with rice and delicious sauces.  We all inhaled our food with delight.  Her cooking skills are very impressive.  She made us chicken biriyani with raitha, a savory sauce, and an egg on the side.  After we finished her son took our plates away and Durqa helped us to wash our hands in a small bowl on the kitchen floor.  She then prepared a plate of food for her husband and got him settled with his food.  She then came out with her plate and sat on the floor, I jumped up to offer her my place and quickly sat on the ground to indicate that I did not need to sit in the seat.  She refused me with a very serious face and her son quickly said to me that it is a sign of respect that his mother sits on the floor.  Her husband then looked at me with a stern face and motioned to the wedding chain, indicating that because of marriage she must sit there on the floor while he sits in his chair looking down at her.  He also made it clear that I needed to get up off the floor because I was being disrespectful.  I wanted to cry so hard.  I wanted to run across the room and scream at him and pick her up and make her sit where I sat seconds ago.  I looked at Jonathan and thankfully for Jonathan’s soft knowing gaze I stood up without crying and placed myself back in the chair.  I just sat there admiring Durqa—admiring her for all her strength, admiring her for working 6 days a week for 12 hours a day and still always carrying a smile on her face.  Over and over in my head I was searching for a reason as to why such an injustice could happen to her merely because she was born a woman in this absolutely beautiful country. 

I am scared , angry, and sad.  I am scared that thousands of women around the world will never know what it feels like to be free.  I feel sad that Durqa will never be in charge of her own destiny.  I am angry that we let these injustices continue.  I sit here with all these feelings consuming me and I am at a loss at what to do.  I sit here with this fire in my bones wanting to jump into action and educate these women and men on what gender equality could look like.  Lois, I admire you as a feminist and I admire that you are so passionate about gender equality.  You invest yourself in creating a community with gender equality and I think that is admirable and beautiful.

Love Kylie