Thoughts on the Delhi Gang Rape

The gang rape that killed Jyoti Singh, a 23-year old student in India hogged the news and shocked the world the past weeks.  It happened during my busiest days when I hardly had the time to read beyond the headlines.   It was not disinterest or callousness on my part that I didn't bother to find out the details of the crime.

That a woman was raped in India is not new to me. An article in Rupee News said one woman is raped every twenty minutes in India but it is a "notoriously under-reported crime because of social stigma and that the culprits in most cases were known to the victims."  I lived there for two years and it isn't just once that case of rape was reported by the media.  Except that such cases were hardly discussed at length or addressed a as crime.  At best, the governments would respond by beefing up security for women, like ensuring that female BPO employees have shuttle service from work to home or by making arrangement for Ladies' Special buses in high-risk areas for women.  The issue would always boil down to security and safety rather than combating violence against women  

I also didn't religiously follow the news that Indians were angered and came out in throngs to protest the crime and demand action from the government.  Paradoxical it may seem but it was good news, it's about time this was talked about in public.

What finally got me to read about it was when the the Jyoti's friend, Awindra Pandey, came out to talk about their ordeal.  What jarred me was the fact that hardly anyone stopped to help them for almost 20 or 25 minutes when  Jyoti was bleeding profusely. Those precious minutes could have made a difference in her  chance of survival.  Awindra said it could have been fear that prevailed among the passersby that if they helped they would be made witness to the crime.  Equally appalling was sluggishness of the police who finally arrived,  their reluctance to take immediate action; didn't even bother to help him carry Jyoti to the van that took them to a distant hospital, because "they were probably worried about their clothes."  

Rape is rape, whether the rapist or rapists, in this case, used just his junk or more. It is violence.  It is not just wrong, it is unforgivable.  But I'm afraid to say that in my view, it was not just the rape that eventually killed Jyoti but the fear and apathy that prevailed, when courage and concern were required.  I do not blame those passersby but the reality is Jyoti is dead, it just makes me ask, what if someone helped the first minute Awindra cried for help?  What if the police acted promptly and responsibly?  Sometimes, what takes the life of a human being isn't just the action committed but the action that is omitted.  As Awindra had said,  "If you can help someone, help them.  If a single person had helped me that night, things would have been different."

Jyoti who could still smile when she saw her friend in the hospital would have survived the social stigma had she lived because what happened to her raised the social consciousness of Indian society.  It made them fearless to demand justice and action for Jyoti's rape and other women who are still victims of gender-based violence. As of date, the suspects have already been arrested, a commission has been set up to recommend measures to combat sexual violence.

Indian President Pranab Mukherjee called Jyoti a 'true hero".  I hope that her death would not be in vain, but instead would lead to reforms both in the system and the attitude  towards sufferings of other people.

When Onions Made People Cry

(I wrote this last year but completely forgot to publish in my blog til now. Photos are by Mike Rosenkrantz, fellow volunteer and room-mate)

There's been a dramatic increase in food prices here in India in the last month. It started with price of onion soaring to Rs60 or Rs70 in New Delhi (and much higher in other states, reportedly up to Rs100/kg) from Rs30-40, apparently a shortage in supply. According to reports, it was due to damage to crops in states of Maharashtra and Gujarat, the largest onion producers. Some reports said it was due to hoarding and speculation. To arrest the price increase which was making the poor and the middle class cry, the Indian government suspended exportation of onion till mid-January this year. But not long after did the other prices of basic food commodities, such as fish, egg, tomatoes, went up that hurt my purse.

In pursuit of lower price Mike and I headed to a different market which he discovered during one of his strolls around our neighborhood. To get there we passed a creek with much of the water dried up while what remained of it has turned black with filth and all kinds of wastes imaginable or not. Near the bank of the creek is trashville which i thought was where all our garbage go, and where some people find a living...

or where cows bask in the sunshine.

The market, although not the most pleasant site you could find in Dabri, West Delhi, is fascinating. There are no stalls in this market, just rows of fruits and vegetables strewn on the mucky grounds, separated only by sacks or tarps laid out to protect them from getting soiled. The vendors seemed to recognize Mike from his previous visit when he didn't buy anything but took a lot of pictures of them. They looked affable and amused as two foreigners gasped with glee at the sight of a heap of broccoli. I was supposed to purchase a week's supply of veggies but with the atrociously cheap prices in this market I ended up buying two or three times more than the volume I needed.

Imagine this: ( at exchange rate of 1.00 INR=0.963946 PHP/0.0219198 USD)

broccoli - Rs30/kilo
papaya - Rs20/kilo
grapes - Rs60/kilo


carrot - Rs20/kilo. (and that's me checking twice that i heard the man say "bis ek kg" - 20 one kilo, notice the man's hand)


pepper -Rs20/kilo


green peas Rs.20/kilo


potato - Rs30/kilo


eggplant -Rs20/kilo


cauliflower Rs5/kilo. now this was tricky. the vendor (not the child in the picture) kept saying, "das doh kg" (10 for 2 kilos). I couldn't blame him if he tried to lure me into buying two kilos of cauliflower. he's got over a hundred kilos of only cauliflowers at his disposal. Mike wondered how much a farmer got if the market price (in New Delhi were nothing is grown) which bothered me for one second then i continued in my shopping binge. Bad, eh?


garlic and tomatoes were still a bit pricey at Rs240+ and Rs60 a kilo respectively.


I didn't dare buy or even ask about the price of onion, afraid it would make me cry. But had i noticed the sacks of onion behind this man in the picture perhaps I changed my mind. Maybe supply has gone back to normal after all.

P.S. I'm not entirely sure if these prices are low by Indian standard. I've read that people here do not complain if prices of non-essential or created needs are high, but will grumble if the prices of vegetables and fruits go up, thus the government really makes effort to keep the prices low, so low that the farm gate prices minimum(est), remember the cauliflower.

Looking Back

I've had two opportunities to share about my volunteering experience in India since I came back home 5 months ago. Thanks to VSO Bahaginan that allows the returned volunteers (RV) to stay involved in many different ways. My involvement has been through RV sharing during trainings for pre-departure volunteers (i will refer to them here as pre-deps). The first one was during the Wider Role of Volunteers (WRV), the training when pre-dep volunteers have received placement offers. The other one is Preparing for Change (PfC), that which selected candidates go through after they have passed the Assessment Day.

The objective of the sharing is to give pre-deps glimpses of the lives of the volunteers while in their countries of placement. Both the RV and the pre-deps receive fair warnings that the experiences shared are unique to the RV speaker and does not reflect those of other volunteers. Volunteers can encounter similar situations but as i have told the predeps during my sharing, the experiences vary depending how we approached situations. And that's what makes it unique.

If I helped them, the predeps also helped me reminisce my life in India and allowed me to cull more lessons as I answered their questions.

Most asked questions:

1) On accommodation: How did you get an a/c? The a/c was provided to me by my employer. I got very sick during my first summer in India, aside from recommending to eat curd rice, they allowed me to use their spare a/c unit. I paid for the installation fee. Employers are not required to provide volunteers with a/c. In India, the basic requirements are bed and mattress, fridge, one fan, gas stove, table and chair, almira (cabinet) with lock. The flat must have kitchen and bathroom.

2)What was your most difficult experience? The most difficult was when the organization where I was assigned went through a crisis, all staff and volunteers were on the wait-and-see mode. I was not doing anything substantial and related to my placement. While it was okay for them, it was devastating for me. It was only resolved when I was given another placement.

3) How did you manage the food? I love Indian food. But at times I would crave for Filipino dishes, I also craved for meat so I would buy bacon even if it was too expensive for my limited allowance.

4) How did you deal with isolation? I contacted the Filipino community. I also established very good relation with my organization. Once in the placement, the organization is the first line of support for any volunteer. I also maintained communication with other volunteers.

5) Was your allowance adequate? Yes, the living allowance allowed me to live decently while in India. I had enough to pay for food, transportation and utilities. I could even afford to buy comfort food, although when I did, my allowance could barely make it till the next release.

6) How do you rate your performance as a volunteer? Oh wow, that's a bit hard to answer. I did my best, I was asked to extend my placement, I received good reviews from my organizations. I must have done well.

7) What lessons did you learn from volunteering? I learned that we can only do so much. The concrete outputs I delivered in my placement may not be sustained or be forgotten in time but the way I interacted with people and how inspired some people will remain.

8) How has volunteering changed you as a person? I live a simpler life now. I don't waste food. I learned to be patient.

9) Did you plan to find love while in placement? No. but when I saw Michael I thought he was cute.

10) Where is your partner now and what are your plans? He's still in India. We're figuring out what's going to happen next.

photo credit: one of the volunteers who brought a camera, grabbed from facebook.

Tropical Storm Killed Hundreds in Northern Mindanao

My country, the Philippines is one of the most vulnerable to climate change. Disaster of this magnitude is not the first, but there is no telling if it will be the last. Please help the victims in any way possible wherever you are in the world.

Tata India. Mein ja rahi hun.

Mein ha rahi hun ( I am going.)

A few days ago Chitra, an Indian colleague, interpreted the lines in the back of my hands. She said that I like to travel but there’s always one place I would call home. And it is definitely not India.

In two weeks I will be concluding my love-hate relationship with India, my place of residence for 26 months, as I fly back to Manila mid-September. Yesterday, it being a holiday (Idu’l Fitr) I started sorting my stuff, decided what to bring and what to leave behind. As I neatly folded the clothes to pack I was melancholic. I always thought that I was very excited to go back home. I still am. Only, it is beginning to sink in me now that a different, thrilling, sometimes boring and at many times, frustrating phase in my life is about to end.

I always knew that my stay in India would be short and temporary. It might have been two years but the days, weeks and months flew by so quickly, even those days when all I did was wait for the night to come. There wasn’t a day that I looked forward to the end of my placement. I savored the good times while they lasted and braved myself into thinking that bad times would come to an end eventually.

Two years and two months ago I did a very similar thing of sorting stuff and deciding what would fit in my suitcase. That time, I think I was apprehensive rather than sad – new place, new people to work with, different culture, spicy food. If ever I was sad, it was because I would be separated from my son and my family for many months. But again, there’s internet and cellphones, and I knew I was coming back at some point and would be reunited with them. I would be home again.

This time I am more sad than apprehensive. Sad, because even if I didn’t really gain a family here, there are people I have come to love. There’s Anjalie and Bulbul, my landlord’s daughters who became a ‘fixture’ in our flat because they were there almost every night and regaled me with stories about their schools and urban view of Indian culture. There’s also the 1-year old Meethu whose one of the first words he learned to say was my name.

I don’t have very many friends in the Philippines. In fact even my Facebook friends number only 300+, and that includes the people I met here plus the unknown people I 'friended' only because we all played the same game app. I certainly have not acquired so many friends here, but many of the Indians I have met and interacted with made my stay bearable, if not very pleasant. There’s the Indian hospitality that is quite different from Filipino hospitality. They made me feel at home yet not entirely at home. No matter how many months I’ve lived here they still considered me as guest and ensured my comfort and safety. There is a considerable distance, a lot of it is due to language barrier but also because most Indians I met don’t socialize a lot especially after they got married, yet there is a connection which I would always cherish.

There was also the community of Filipino expatriates that became my refuge while in Chennai. Not only did I have the chance to taste Filipino dishes during gatherings but also allowed me to shift to my first and native language.

And there’s Michael, my fellow volunteer, travel companion, colleague at work, roommate, boyfriend. It’s not completely rosy but life was often easy when you know you have someone with whom you can split bills, or vent frustrations. It also helped to think aloud because I knew that somehow there is always someone who would hear me and relate with my experiences. And during worse times, there’s a shoulder I could cry on. I could also allow myself to be flippant around him, and only around him (or maybe Anjalie and Bulbul sometimes). Of course there’s the indispensable community of VSO volunteers. They reminded me I am not alone and that even if I didn’t regularly meet with them I always knew that one email and they would rally support when it got very tough.

It’s safe to surmise that volunteers do introspection, recount the experiences towards the end of service, assess the placement, ruminate what difference we made and what lessons were learnt. I am not there yet. I am simply pondering from where the melancholy emanated. I realize it is from the fact that it is home to the people who made me feel I belonged in the last 26 months, and that leaving means a very good chance that I will never ever see them again. I will not see Anajlie become a doctor, or Bulbul become an artist and entrepreneur, I will not hear Meethu learn to speak English. Soon many of the people I’ve met here will just be part of my memory, precious memory. With hard-to-pronounce names I may even forget many of them as soon as the plane reached the Manila tarmac.

Chitra may be right, there’s only one home for me , it is where my heart is and I am heading back there very soon. India may have never been home to me but a good part of my life had been lived here and I am thankful for the generally wonderful experience.

my second home in india

i should have done this a long time ago but i never had the chance to take snaps of my flat in delhi. blame it on my camera that gave up on me while i was still in chennai (i will also post photos of my flat in chennai, see the difference).


colors of kites and tibetan prayer flags come alive. make howling sounds during windy days.


this is the view from where i hang our clothes


if the flat looks like i am big obama fan blame it on my roommate mike. he's also responsible for all the posters of krishna, yogananda, jesus christ, etc.


other than my room, this is my favorite part of the house where i tried making indian dishes


the table and chairs are hand-me-down from a returned volunteer. went to her house, "dibs on the table and chairs".

i love the flat, love the landlord's family and love the free wi-fi and water supply. not all volunteers are as lucky.

Check your bill

Michael and I did our weekly food shopping at Reliance Fresh. We usually split the bill. I didn’t have cash so I told him we would use my debit card. Our purchases totaled 764.50 as displayed in the cash register, gave my card to the cashier, he swiped, gave me the bill to sign. I noticed that the total in the tiny sheet of paper was Rs.764.96. So I told the cashier about the discrepancy. With my limited Hindi and his limited English we could not understand each other. But there’s apparent nonchalance in his manner. A guy behind me understood what I was talking about and explained that the total was rounded off. The last time I checked my Math, you round off a decimal number to get a whole number.

We were about to leave. It was a mere 40 paise ($0.009 or about the same in peso) but I was fuming. Michael suggested that I talked to the manager. The manager came and I explained to him the situation. He gave the same explanation, bill was rounded off. WTF? ( i didn't say that) He said something about system of rounding off when someone uses debit or credit card. “Debit card is as good as cash, did you charge me for using my debit card?” I thought he said yes, so I told him I never knew of that policy in their store, we shop there every week. Right to information, hello. "If you are charging me for using card you should put a sign and inform shoppers". He said, “anyway, it’s only 40 paise.” Jesus H. Christ, who cares if it’s only 40 paise, they still charged me extra! His further explanation discombobulated me even more, that when someone uses card they have to put exact amount. Eh? That the machine automatically rounds off, that it’s a system problem. “System problem? How much are you taking from my account then?” I asked. He told me it’s whatever’s written in my bill."So again, let's get this clear, are you charging me for using debit card?", me. "No" manager said. "Ok, are you then charging me extra because of the problem in your system?” I think that pinned him down and just decided to give me back my 40 paise. It’s actually 46 paise to be exact. They don’t have coins under 1 rupee so he gave me that, I wanted to give him exact change but I didn’t have that either. He told me to just take the 1 rupee, which I did.

The other shoppers could hear us, while they watched and listened nobody seemed to care, probably even wondering why I raised hell over 40 paise. Even that guy who was standing behind me. Apparently, he knows about the system of rounding off. This is clearly a case of very bad customer service, and I can even say a way to rip off shoppers. I’m sure whoever is reading this gets the drift. While I am not surprised I’m still dumbfounded by how Indians just accept things like this. Most Indians do not complain, and because they don’t complain the system never gets corrected.