Our doorbell rang at 7:20 that morning. Over the past week, no one came to my door in the morning except Raju. Still dazed with very little sleep the previous night with mozzie's buzzing around me (no one told me about Odomos or All Out) and the airconditioner out of commission, I stumbled down to open the door.
As soon as there was a crack in the door, four brightly sareed women with loud voices appeared. "Namaste Madam!"
"No, no, no, I don't want it!" was all I could stammer thinking they were door-to-door peddlers. Now that I think about it, they could have been Avon ladies! I screamed for David but he was in the shower and could not hear me. (He would not make a very good Superman, would he?)
The strong ladies pushed the door intending to come in or at least be heard and I pushed back. The pushing and loud voices continued for what seemed like an eternity until I finally managed to close the door. In the span of what was really only a few seconds, what assaulted me were four powdered faces, red lipsticked lips, bindi-ed foreheads. Their dress was tawdry. They were rather large boned women, dark, and loud.
I ran up to David and told him what had happened. As far as I knew, four women tried to rob me and break into my house! That's it, we're moving back to Singapore! I sobbed and shook then quickly became angry at the security guard who let these women go past the gate, climb up the stairs, then ring my doorbell! What was he thinking? How useless was he down there? I demanded that he be fired, and fired he was the very next day.
Our first source of information was Raju, our driver. After recounting the story to him and asking him exactly who these women were, he gave us rather sketchy information. Raju's command of English leaves much to be desired.
'Sir, not man, not woman. Middle class."
"What?" but at that point, we both understood what Raju was trying to say. What we did not understand is why they would bang on our door at 7:20 in the morning. If I have piqued your curiosity, and hopefully to make you understand how visually shocking this all was, visit this link: http://images.google.co.in/images?q=hijra&hl=en&client=firefox-a&channel=s&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&hs=n6O&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=X&oi=images&ct=title
These "ladies" are hijras.
"Most hijras live at the margins of society with very low status: the very word "hijjra" is sometimes used in a derogatory manner. Few employment opportunites are available to hijras. Many get their income from performing at ceremonies, begging or prostitution — an occupation of eunuchs also recorded in premodern times. Violence against hijras specially sex workers is often brutal and occurs in public spaces, police stations, prisons and their homes. As with transgender people in most of the world they face extreme discrimination in health, housing, education, employment, immigration, law, and any bureaucracy that is unable to place them into male or female gender categories. One hijra reports waiting in the emergency room of a hospital for hours while medical staff debated whether to admit her into the men's or women's ward.
Hijras are often encountered on streets, trains, and other public places demanding money from young men. If refused, the hijra may attempt to embarrass the man into giving money, using obscene gestures, profane language, and even sexual advances. Hijras also perform religious ceremonies at weddings and at the birth of male babies, involving music, singing, and sexually suggestive dancing. These are intended to bring good luck and fertility. Although the hijra are most often uninvited, the host usually pays the hijras a fee. Many fear the hijras' curse if they are not appeased, bringing bad luck or infertility, but for the fee they receive, they can bless goodwill and fortune on to the newly born. Hijras are said to be able to do this because, since they do not engage in sexual activities, they accumulate their sexual energy which they can use to either bestow a boon or a bane." Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hijra_(South_Asia)
So why me? They come to give their blessing to new homes, new babies, new marriages. I was in a new home thus needed their blessings and of course, they needed their "blessings" too. I later learned that they come to Indian families only so I was even more angry that they had invaded me. Someone else warned me that they would return again and again until they extorted their payment. Just what I needed in this already tumultuous adjustment to India!
Our downstairs neighbor had not moved in but even before they did, the hijras would circle our block and wait it out downstairs hoping to catch them. They finally succeeded but shrewd Nuwayri was ready for them. The hijra wanted 55,000IR. After two hours of haggling, she had them down to 3,000IR and two sarees! Even in this madness there is protocol! Ambrose, my driver had a baby and he knew the hijra would come around. They came to his father-in-law's house to give the baby their blessing.
I've put all this behind me, forgotten, locked away in my storybook of tales to tell my grandchildren someday. Until Monday.
I met Sidharthe, a most wonderful young man, proprietor of a lovely recently opened jewelry store in Khan Market. If you don't already know, I can sit in a jewelry store for hours just looking and touching and enjoying everything around me. This was such an afternoon. We sat talking shop, trying to outwit each other gemologically, watching customers come in and out. In the mid-afternoon bustle, the hijiras came.How clever they are to come when they can be the most trouble, when they can create the biggest distraction.
The immediately zoomed in on Sidharthe sitting behind his desk. I watched his smile disappear and his eyes narrow with annoyance. Fear was not far behind I am sure, but he held his own, kept his cool. I saw him pull out a few bills from his stash hoping that he could make them go away quickly. Hijra #1 came in speaking loudly. I can't tell you how the exchange proceeded. I can only tell you that there was a lot of pushing and pulling, a lot of arguing. Surely a few expletives were unleashed as well. This continued for a few minutes until they began to approach him and invade his very private space, touching him with thier dupattas, brushing his face with it, coming very uncomfortably close. His voice went up a notch, theirs escalated as well.
We now had two hijras in the room. A very confused and annoyed German lady was asking to just pay her bill so she could get out of the way but no one was paying attention to her. I quietly explained to her what was going on (I am now an expert!) and she waited patiently. I cautioned her to watch her purse. Hijra #2 must have seen her pull the purse closer to her body and she started lambasting the poor lady. Not knowing any Hindi but catching some words uttered in English, I knew she was incensed that we would even suggest that they would steal, as though extortion were not exactly the same thing. She continued to almost scream behind me but I stood my ground, never turned to look at her (horrors!) and allowed her to rant and rave unacknowledged.
Haggling went on and I worried that they would get the better of Sidharthe. Remember that three men stood guard at the door and yet the hijras were able to enter the store. That is the magic they weave, the power they wield. What chance did good Sidharthe have over the wicked? But the good prevail and after more back and forth, more screaming, and fortunately not more touching, Sidharthe triumphed and they were gone. A big sigh of relief.
Not many are fortunate enough to experience the unfortunate twice over. I was, and after all is said and done, I have a story to tell, an experience to laugh about. It wasn't so bad after all...but this I can only say in retrospect, after the 6 months it took me to recover. Perhaps my first encounter helped me cope with the second, wiser now and more steady of heart, yet only clever enough to stay mum while the proceedings continued. Yet, were there to be a third encounter, I am still not certain that I would fare much better. I believe the hijra will always evoke in me a fear, a deep fear of the unknown and ununderstood.
+DSC_7019.jpg)
