Hijras: India's Terror Towards all Men

You won't find the definition for this "hijra" in the dictionary. I'm not talking about Muhammad's departure from Mecca to Medina in AD 622 which is what you WILL find in the dictionary under "Hijra."

There are a certain group of people all over India they like to call Hijras. This is not the "politically correct" term for these people, and I'm not sure what the correct one would be at this moment in time.

These people are feared among all men in India. Why are they feared? I will tell you why. A Hijra is someone who was originally a man or male if you may. However, they now live their lives dressed in women's clothes and going around asking for money. No, not asking for money, but demanding it! I don't know how they have this kind of power over people here. They remind me of drag queens, except not as flamboyant. I mean they're basically eunuchs who dress in women's clothes. In India that means saris and salwaar kameez, with gold earrings and bangles.

Beggars come on trains and sing or sweep or simply beg for money. They stand on the streets and ask for food and money, but beggars NEVER go into stores because they are not allowed and they know they're not allowed. Hijras are different. They are not beggars because they don't beg for money, they almost demand it. They walk into stores, go straight to the register and get their money and leave, moving onto the next stores. They come on the trains and just clap their hands and go up to the men and the men give them money. Why do they do that? Because the men in India are terrified of the hijras. Hijras are aggressive and they only bother men. They don't even talk to the women really or try to get money from women, but only the men. It's fun to watch all the men shifting in their seats with looks of fear on their faces and distress in their eyes when a batch of hijras enter the train. They touch the men and flirt with them and hit them. Some men just give them money, others try to ignore them and sit still with clenched teeth looking at the floor praying to their god that they'll leave.

But I love the hijras. I absolutely love them. I get so excited when they come on the train or if I see them in the market. I think one reason I love them is because they scare the men. Some Indian men can be really annoying (no offense to anyone), especially to a white woman. They will try their best to act or speak macho and cool if they want to impress you OR they will try to take pictures of you unknowingly with their cell phones OR they will whistle and yell at you from their motorcycles or car windows. So to see them cower with fear as soon as a man dressed as a woman gets onto the train brings me a little joy. To see men who think they're so manly be afraid of a man who just wants to be a woman is funny to me. The other reason I love them is because they never hurt women or take money from women that I am aware of, and they remind me of gay men and I love gay men.

Just the other day I was on the local train going to Pune and about halfway through the ride at one station about four hijras got on the train and started taking money from the men. As they walked past me I leaned over to my student and told her that I loved hijras. About ten minutes later the hijras came back past me and my friend and they stopped and looked at me and started asking me what my name was. I told them "Sarah" and they said their names and then I thought they would try to get money from me, but they just continued asking me questions like where I am from, where I am going on the train, and also said that I was very beautiful and if I wore gold, dangling earrings it would fit me perfectly. They were so sweet to me and when I told one I was just going to Pune they were so excited! They shook my hand and said good-bye and got off the train as it had stopped at another station. One of them I met was so young, I'll bet "she" was about 16 years old. I almost want to learn Hindi JUST so that I can hang out with these eunuchs. I really would love to be their friend.

As soon as they left these two school boys, who were maybe 16-17 years old, sitting in front of me started mocking them and laughing, and all I could think is, "wow, you guys are so great! You act like little cowards when they are on the train but as soon as they get off you make fun of them. Real nice, little jerks." I just don't get it.

Many years ago if anyone had a child, they would have to pay a hijra to come and bless the child. They believed if the hijras did not bless their child then their child would be cursed. I don't think they do that so much anymore, but still somehow, hijras have this power within the country. They can go anywhere they want and everyone gives them money mostly because they are scared of them I think. I am not sure exactly why all this takes place, but I hope to learn more about them.

I really do love these people. If you remember, pray for the cross-dressing eunuchs of India, that they would know love and live love, and that the people of India would love them as well.

Caution: This post contains the F-bomb.

I love my country. My country being "America." I actually hate when people call it "America" because that could mean anywhere in North or South America if you want to get technical. Why should the United States of America absorb all of the Americas by being called "America?"

Anyway, I love the United States of America. I might disagree with some things about my country. I might even criticize some ways it is run or some people in government office or our entertainment and media empire, etc. BUT, I cannot stand when other people criticize my country who are not from my country. When someone criticizes "America" suddenly this overwhelming sense of pride and patriotism for my country wells up inside of me and it just about comes out as I hold myself back from punching this person in the neck for dissing my nation. I have never, ever experienced this happening in India until yesterday...

I was minding my own business; I was even wearing a culturally sensitive, traditional Indian outfit that most Indian women wear called a Salwaar Kameez (google it, you'll see). I was walking to a shop that I frequently go to at least twice a week. I know the shop owner, he knows what I want as he sees me approaching. SO, I was walking into this shop and a man was standing outside the shop swaying a little as he stood there and therefore was noticeably drunk. As I walked into the shop he yells out to me, "FUCK AMERICA!" I was actually quite surprised by the outburst because USUALLY Indian men yell at me, but it's more like, "Hello!!" "How are you??" "From which country are you???" "Welcome to India!" Things of that sort. This guy obviously did not like the United States of America. I simply ignored him, but the entire time I was in the shop he was shouting things like that at me. "I hate America!" "Nine Eleven something something..." "mumble mumble, America, Mumble."

I was upset because first of all, he actually has no idea that I am an American citizen. I could be British, Irish, Australian, Norwegian, Italian, Canadian even! I could be from any of those places. Heck, I could be from South Africa! Of all the places white people hail from, America does not have the majority. In that case I would not have cared at all that he was shouting these things and would have simply laughed at him for the misidentification of my home country. But the thing is I AM AMERICAN and it took every fiber in my being to not run up to him and punch him in his drunk face. I could have taken him. I bet he has never even been to "America" and I bet that he has some dumb reason for hating "America." All I wanted to do was go up to him and say, "Excuse me? I am living in YOUR country, and I am wearing YOUR traditional clothes, I am just buying milk, yogurt, and cereal, I am doing nothing to upset YOU. I did not come to YOUR country to say horrible things about how different it is, or that I'm so glad Mumbai was attacked in 2008 and I am glad it happened again just last week." Oh man, I was so upset. Only one other time in my life was I that upset about something someone said, only that time it was about Jesus, and this time it was about "America."

Usually Indians love America and love the people from America. I have never met an Indian-to-date that hated the United States. Just going to the US Embassy last week and seeing the line for US visa applicants winding around the building shows how much Indians love the US. Just going to the United States you will see Indian people EVERYWHERE!

I don't know where this guy came from or why he was saying those things, and as I walked away from his mumblings and laughing because I did not ever respond to him, I prayed for him. As difficult as it was, I prayed for him. I guess you could say I even loved him by not spazzing out on him and by not knocking him out as I left the store. I have found that it is so very easy to pray for my enemies and to say that I love my enemies when I never have to face them. Like right after the World Trade Center incident I prayed for those terrorists, I even felt compassion for them, but I never had to ever meet them. I never had to see or hear their personal hatred for my country. When it comes to actually meeting people face-to-face who are my enemy or my Jesus' enemy or my country's enemy, it is really hard to have compassion for them. It is really hard to pray for them. There is so much hate in our world, and I am so thankful that I don't have to see it very often right in my face, because I think I would live a very different life full of anger and hate, the very things I would be angry and hateful towards.

I don't know how God does it.

Garbage.

It's everywhere. The streets are bordered with a line of paper, plastic, and other disregarded items no longer seen as valuable. The litter that is spread across this country is outrageous. I constantly see people throw things out car or bus windows. I see people throwing wrappers and empty bottles out of trains as they are traveling. Small children do it, old uncles do it, even Christians do it. I thought at least I'd see the Christian Indian people taking care of this planet, their beautiful country.

This country that is full of jungle hills and roaring waterfalls. The most beautiful flowers I have ever seen grow along roads, houses, and in the wild. There are colorful lizards, flashy birds, and handsome black-faced monkeys roaming the land of this country. Not to mention ancient elephants and ferociously beautiful tigers. Yet in all corners and crevices of the cities and jungles of this country there is garbage. There are street dogs that can be terrifying but are always annoying and scavenging the garbage for tidbits of food someone may have thrown out. The cows that also roam the streets eat the garbage, I cannot imagine that is a very good diet for them, let alone good for the people who eventually may eat those cows like the Muslims and Christians who eat beef.

It is a very difficult thing for me to see littering everywhere I turn. You think sometimes that if you ignore it it's okay, but you can't. There is also so much of it that one person could not possibly make a difference by picking up some garbage here or there (not to mention it's dangerous). I remember sometimes at home while going for a walk or a run I'd make a vow to pick up any trash I see during my run. I would end up only finding 2-3 things maybe. But if I did that here I would need an entire dumpster, and that is no exaggeration. If I tried to pick up all the trash on my 7 minute walk from my house to Cafe Coffee Day I would need at least one entire dumpster. I mean those big square ones that are behind restaurants and at apartment complexes.

My life is full of a lot of garbage. Small, small things here and there thrown into the landscape of my life. Small things that are beginning to pile up and smell and make my life something ugly. I cannot just throw it out because I don't want it to cause anyone else ugliness or pain or frustration. Just as others' garbage in India causes me pain and frustration. But I must dispose of my garbage in the correct way. The way that will guarantee it won't come back and it won't cause others to stumble. I must give it away to the one person who welcomes my trash because it not only humbles me, but frees me to see more of the beauty that He has created my life to be. Garbage is not always garbage at first. It's a delicious bag of chips, or an awesome new CD we've been waiting for. It is a dress we simply cannot live without or a pair of shoes that are not only hot but in a color everyone else wishes they had! It's that new cell phone or iPod that was the latest and greatest when you got it! But after time, and always after some time, they get old, they become useless, they become outdated and they become garbage. And now I'm left with all this piled up trash that must be removed and re-organized. Some of it is still good and has just been used for the wrong purpose and therefore rendered useless. I must clean out my heart, my head, and my house. Remove the things that make life more difficult where it does not need to be difficult. Cleaning in itself is not easy and can be frustrating, but it needs to be done. No one should ever say that following Jesus will make my life shiny, clean, and easy, because my life is far from that, and so was His.

I must get going and start the cleaning process and pack it all up and give it to Him because he cares for me. He will fill my soon empty spaces with things that I actually need and will help me grow. Things that will be challenging, but good. Things that won't be easy, but needed. Things I might downright dislike, but necessary. And I look forward to it! I just finished deep-cleaning my kitchen, and let me tell you it wasn't fun, easy, or exciting, but now that I'm done it looks so awesome and the ants' numbers have fallen considerably! I haven't seen a cockroach in weeks! It's all worth it in the end.

and I am throwing all my thoughts away
and I'm destroying every bet I've made
and I am joining all my thoughts to you
and I'm preparing every part for you