boom, boom, bangalore.

things that are depressing: me and my last blog post. i mean, MAN. i'm totally fine and have fully recovered after hitting that culture-shock wall of fatigue and negativity. sorry peeps.

though i barely made it to bangalore in one piece (typical frampton family luck with all things related to travel), i'm still alive and actually am encountering much success with my ISP here. i know, i can't believe it either. i'm staying in an apartment with 2 women who are friends of azimji, my academic director. they're super nice and friendly and feed me and laugh at my attempts to be funny. always appreciated. the apartment is in cook town, a small residential neighborhood in bangalore that is situated to the side of the hustle and bustle of the city. i arrived on sunday, the 8th, and somehow, BY THE GRACE OF GOD, haven't gotten lost yet. looks like the starts are aligning for little komal. boo yeah.

since sangama (the NGO i'm working with for my ISP) is open from tuesday to saturday, i spent all day monday watching terrible movies on tv like "the clique" and "species: the awakening". these movies are LEGIT the only kinds of american films that come on the telly, aka there's not much surprise to why people think american culture is a joke. i also ate close to 10 indian oranges that day. monday was heavenly.

naturally, tuesday brought me great anxiety as i was meeting with shubha, the director of sangama, as well as the rest of the staff. the day started out right with some scrambled eggs and some NOT getting lost on my way to work in this big-ass city. my autorickshaw driver dropped me off on sangama's street and i started walking down, asking people along the way if they knew where my little NGO was. mostly, no one had a clue as to what i was looking for, but eventually on man i asked replied, "oh, the women's organization..." "yyyeeeeeaaaahhhh...the women's organization...", i confirmed. the day before i left for bangalore, i received an email from the US embassy instructing all american students/visitors in india to keep a low-profile and stay away from big cities. seeing that i'm in BANGALORE, the IT capital of india, and working for a SEXUAL MINORITIES ORGANIZATION that protests and fights openly for equal rights, i decided not to correct the man by telling him that sangama works for hijras, transgenders, lesbians, bisexuals, kothis, double deckers, and sex workers. instead, i just let him lead me to the green building that sat discretely at the end of the block.

i walked up the stairs, certain that my anxiety-induced nausea was going to actually materialize on the body of the first person i shook hands with. this, fortunately, was not this case. i was immediately greeted by akkai, a kothi who has been working in the information division of sangama for seven years. kothis are men who have the personalities of women, and akkai, true to his nature, was super affectionate and gave me a hug and some reading material on sangama. i sat in a side office, pretending to read while, in reality, i was trying not to wet my pants in fear and intimidation of meeting shubha.

30 minutes later, shubha walked in the room. i could instantly tell that she was the backbone of the organization. she greeted me with a calm authority and asked casual questions before getting down to bidnass. what do i expect from sangama? what do i want to do with my internship? why exactly was i here?-- all of these things she wanted to know, and being the opposite of cool, calm, and collected, i almost choked on my tongue explaining my purpose and my presence. i told her that i wanted to help sangama in anyway i could through whatever volunteer work that was available, but that i wanted to specifically research, work with, and interview hijras. shubha immediately took the reins and said that i should conduct a survey among a community of hijras--the survey would include questions that sangama wants answered as well as questions that i want answered. i agreed that this was a great idea and spent the rest of the day reading material around which i could frame my questions. i also spent the rest of the day trying to fit in, which has GOT to be the BIGGEST joke of my LIFE. wait, wait, WAIT. let me just talk about the staff here. it's actually diversity 101. hijras, transexuals, lesbians, kothis, bisexuals, gay men, straight men, straight women-- these are the kinds of people who make up the work force at sangama. it's a beautiful thang.

day two at sangama was pretty unbelievable. akkai, who is quickly becoming my new best friend (turns out we have the same taste in guys), took me to sangama's office near the city market where we sat in on a meeting with sangama's health coordinators. sangama is instrumental in treating and educating the public on HIV/AIDS. their awareness campaign spans the entire city of bangalore. the NGO divides has divided the city into zones and each zone has a health clinic-- complete with medicine and staff to serve those who have HIV/AIDS and those who are vulnerable to contracting HIV/AIDS. again, the meeting was led by persons from all types of sexual orientations and gender identities. akkai introduced me in kannada (the local language in bangalore), telling them who i was, why i was there, what i was researching, etc. when he was finished, everyone stood up and started clapping. i almost drowned the room in happy tears. it is so incredible to me that people who are shunned by society, rejected by their families, denied human rights daily, and abused by government officials can be so welcoming. even though the greater community has turned it's back on these individuals, they still have maintained a moving, heartwarming sense of humanity and love for others. it's hard for me to remember a time when, as an outsider, i felt so included.

the day continued on in a magical manner until lunchtime. akkai asked me what i wanted for lunch and i told him that i wanted whatever he was having. when lunch was delivered, i sat down on the floor with the rest of the staff, ready to indulge in some savory, south indian delight. i was handed a sack wrapped in newpaper that was tied together with string. i slowly opened my edible present to find a mountain of rice. i had unwrapped close to three pounds of straight up carbs. in the middle of our little eating circle, there were three limp bags filled with red sauce-- someone passed me a bag and told me to pour it onto the rice. i did this and obviously poured too much becuase the result was soup. please keep in mind that i'm eating off of newspaper-- material that doesn't make the best bowl, aka my lunch was creeping out on all sides, trying to escape. i looked around quickly trying to find a spoon, fork, shovel-- anything that would right this wrong. i eyed the room frantically, only to find discover that, in south india, hands are eating utensils. thus, when i say that i ate with my hands, i really mean that i bathed in rice. it was a rice shower actually, what with the lake of sauce that i dumped on the rice. furthermore, the sauce was 2,000 degrees and i think my fingers have blisters/permanent burn scars from scooping the lavaa into my mouth. it was delish, 100%, but i have a hard time enjoying meals during which i resemble a wild animal/nomad starved for food.

needless to say, i recovered from lunch and moved onto much bigger things. i interviewed 5 hijras in the office at 4 that afternoon with my loyal helper-turned-best-friend akkai acting as translator. i was surprised at how comfortable i was with the hijras from the start. their warm nature made it so easy and enjoyable to talk with them, and within 20 minutes, i started seeing them as women, not transgendered men. they were overwhelmingly willing to chat with me and didn't hesitate to share their more painful experiences as hijras, specifically instances that involved police brutality and family rejection. our conversation hit on just about every emotion-- shortly after they had finished recalling a particularly unpleasant memory, they were all smiles talking on what they love the most about being hijras. holding my hand and occasionally playing with my hair, the hijras spoke with me for close to 2 hours, a time frame that i'm sure would have been extended had they not have had to start their sex work around 6:30 that evening.

finishing our chat with chai, i tried to find the words to tell them how appreciative i was of their time and honesty. but even after i told them that, there was so much more that i wanted to say-- that they're beautiful, beautiful people who deserve every right that i seem to take for granted everyday, that their sincerity and kindness makes we want to hang out with them all the time, that they can come to new orleans for mardi gras and stay with me next year...

where were the rude, swindling, hate-filled hijras that i had read so much about? where were the hijras that i was told to fear? they certainly weren't sitting on the sloor with me, asking what kind of shampoo i use and admiring my eyebrow ring, and they definitely weren't the sweet women who were thanking me for caring about them.

this study is already proving to be entirely invaluable. i'll be sure to keep you updated.

peace to ya,
komal