I'll make a good Indian wife yet

Whenever I did an awkward thing--like drop my clean, wet laundry on the dirt courtyard or go out to lunch with frizzy hair--Matthew would laugh at me. And in my frustration I'd say I'd never make a good Indian wife, and it's good I'll marry an American! In my mind there are three tasks that Jeeva does regularly that used to seem impossible to me: (1) Haul water (2) Wash laundry (3) Cook Indian food.

I've mastered the art of hauling water during my first stay in the village. I used to spill water all over myself while carrying those small jugs back and forth between the tap and the cistern. I'd watch with envy as Jeeva hauled the big jug of water on her hip and then gracefully bend down to pick up a small jug, never spilling a drop. After 2 months of village life I found that grace of water hauling so unique to Indian women.

However, when it came to laundry during my first stay in the village I'd abscond with my dirty clothes to the bathroom and while I showered I'd wash my clothes in a bucket. During my second stay in the village I think I finally mastered the task of doing my laundry. Thanks to Jill and her helpful tips I have learned the art of beating my laundry on a rock. You may be thinking to yourself, "Come on Liann how hard can it be?" Well, like many things in India (like starting that old kerosene stove)--what seems like a juvenile activity, is actually quite difficult and takes great skill.

To do laundry first I buy a small packet of soap powder, fill a bucket half full of water, and soak your clothes in that soapy water for about a half hour or so. I then haul the bucket of soapy clothes and a bucket of clean water to the large rock.

I take the item of clothing (a pair of pants for example) and use a bar of laundry soap and rub it up against the clothes. With pants I make sure to soap up the hem of the pants and the crotch. Then I lift the pants slightly again and again (sort of like kneading bread dough) to get the soap and water consistent all the way through the cloth. Then comes the fun part.

I whack the pants against the rock, a great stress reliever. I first whack the legs, then the top, and then fold them in half and whack the middle. As I whack the pants against the rock, I watch with satisfaction as the soapy water sprays off the pants, taking the dirt and grime of Indian life with it.

I then scoop clean water onto the pair of pants and whack again and again--this time trying to rid the garment of the soap. I do this twice until the water has fewer suds. I ring out the pants and hang them on one part of the line. When I finish all the clothes in the bucket I add some fabric softener to the clean water and let the clothes soak for five minutes. I ring the water out of the clothes one more time and hang them out on the line to dry.

The key to good laundry is doing it when you hear the whacking of clothes on rocks in your neighborhood. The women choose to wash the mornings the government tap is on and during short, cloudy portions of the afternoon, not during the heat of the day--which is when I usually think to do my laundry. They never seem to wash on a day it rains, never. So, when I hear that rhythmic whacking all around me I know it'd be a good laundry day.

The one seemingly impossible task before making a good villager's wife would be to make tasty Indian food. I have watched Jeeva day in and day out cook out of that small kitchen, power or no power. I've woken up many times to the smell of breakfast wondering how does one create such a beautiful scent. Maybe during my third stay here I'll learn to cook...maybe.

Unfortunately, even if I do I learn how to cook, there are tons of other daily tasks Jeeva does effortlessly that I may never master--like dunging the courtyard, sweeping the veranda just right, and running a tutoring program on her veranda in the evenings to list a few. I'm just glad I'll get to marry someone who is grateful I'm college educated even though I lack many practical life skills.