Dancing Gora!

After spending the morning wedged into a sweltering hot bus and having my nose shoved into the armpit of the man standing next to me, I arrived at the GVSS office assuming that the day could only go uphill from there. I don't think I could have anticipated just how right I was. I have been making it very obvious that I was anxious to go into the field more and really see the Targeted Interventions at work, so I was promised that I would spend most of today in the field. GVSS has various High Risk Groups of FSWs (female sex workers)  throughout the city and surrounding area ranging from brothels to larger slums (or 'colonies' as they're called). Through a partnership with an elected Peer Educator (an FSW herself), GVSS has established HIV/AIDs interventions, Self Help Groups, and trainings for the women. These Targeted Interventions aim to support the FSWs in the betterment of their social, economic, and medical outcomes.Each week, outreach workers visit the sites and meet with the Peers to make sure that all the HIV/other STI testing is up to date and that things with the rest of the FSWs are going smoothly.

The first stop this morning was to one of the main brothels in Red Light District of Jodhpur. The two outreach workers I went with were surprised that the idea of going to a brothel at 10 am didn't turn me away and that I was actually really interested in talking to the women and seeing the place I had been reading so much about in the past few days. Since it's located in the middle of the Old City, we couldn't get there by rickshaw, car, or bus, so I found myself on the back of an wooden horse drawn cart- the only transportation allowed to pass through the gate- on my way to the brothel. When we got there, we walked though the trash strewn streets past curious onlookers wondering what I could possibly be doing in that part of town. The two outreach workers forced me between the two of them so to not give anyone any sort of ideas about the matter. We were greeted by the Peer at the brothel and a few of the other women. We sat in one of their bedrooms and talked for a while (well, they mostly talked and I was a few minutes behind translating for myself... 75% successful). Luckily for me, Indians use many hand gestures so I can get a better idea of what's going on. I learned that the women's ages range from 15-mid 40's and that they follow suit with GVSS's regular testing and condom distribution. I got some raised eyebrows when they asked me my age. After playing with a chubby baby, chatting with the women, and of course having some chai, the three of us took gave our thanks and were on our way. We took a little detour and went bangle shopping! The Old City is home to cart upon cart piled high with rings of bangles; aka heaven for me. I got my first round of real glass bangles; a stack of blues and reds splattered with gold. Not exactly sure how I'm going to get them off since the man basically crushed every bone in my henna covered hands to squeeze them on. ' No fall off!' he said proudly after releasing my crushed knuckles... you're telling me!

After a quick lassie, we were on our way the colony where I am going to start my project in the next few weeks. The women have all expressed a desire to learn how to use sewing machines so to establish an alternative income source. Not only can they sew from their own homes, but they can also pass the skills on to their daughters so to avoid their entry into the sex trade. We went to the Peer of the colony's house to wait for the women to come. I had no idea what I was in for. They all showed up, about 30 FSWs, and almost immediately started fighting. I was told that Indians speak loudly on a normal basis, well they were SHOUTING. Shouting, pointing, gesturing, and throwing their arms up in the air.. I had zero idea what was going on. I only started to worry when they all started pointing at me! Soon our chairs were surrounded by angry shouting women and my translation skills were completely useless. When I tried to ask one of the outreach workers what was going on, she just said "Money!" The fury lasted about 20 minutes.. during all of which I was desperately looking at the outreach workers to at least try to explain the issue (better yet, why I was involved) but still nothing. I only found out later that it was a long standing issue that had nothing to do with me (something that would've been nice to know as I sat there thinking I already did something wrong!). We complied a list of 41 names of women who are interested in the sewing training. Getting the names is only the first step since I need to find out if any of the FSWs already have sewing skills and can be paid to teach the sessions.

Then as if nothing had happened, the Peer got up and said it was time to visit houses. As we walked through the small winding streets of the slum, we acquired quite an entourage. With each house we passed, three new community members joined on exciting shouting a few English words they knew. In the central area, music was blasting from an open window and a woman was dancing in the street. Upon hearing it, everyone turned to me and smiled. Uh-oh. From countless impromptu dance performances in Guatemala and Peru, I am very aware that music + foreigner = endless entertainment. 'Dance karo! Dance karo! (Go dance! Go dance!)' one of the women yelled and I was promptly led by the previously dancing woman into the small circle of people watching her. I knew there was no way out and I might as well embrace the experience. I'm pretty sure news of the dancing gora (white foreigner) spread throughout the colony and within 30 seconds of my awful attempt at Indian dancing, I was surrounded. My embarrassment quickly melted and soon I was dancing up a storm to the blasting top 40 Bollywood Hits in the middle of a cheering crowd of families and creepy guys taking cell phone pictures. I spent the rest of the day (followed by the ever growing crowd) visiting some of the women that want to take the sewing training and wandering around the humid streets that smelled of incense and cumin.