In my previous post, a friend of mine from Colorado had been visiting on a business trip. After reading my past few articles on India, he called my writing “scathing.” At first I took this as a compliment. “Scathing!” What a colorful adjective. Then he went on to casually accuse me of sounding “just like another white person coming to India and complaining about it.” At this point I became extraordinarily offended. He said I wasn’t representing India fairly.
For example, in my description of the tiny house we were renting, I had failed to mention the cost: $10/night. This was actually a fairly high price- higher than we had previously agreed upon- and we ended up recently moving to a top floor, breezy, brightly colored room with a spectacular balcony with a view of the mashed potato sand pit palm grove (for the same price). We traded in the kitchen and the lizards for a balcony with bats. Also, the occasional hairy black pig waltzes by below. With a two-person occupancy, we are renting this great new room for a mere $5 per person, per night. And being that it is the end of the “tourist season” in Goa, we could probably find a little bamboo beach hut for as low a cost as $3/night if we put forth a solid search.
Our Air India flight that I have been whining about was actually quite pleasant. Polite flight attendants, plenty of decent and hot food was provided, it was comfortable and smooth, and the other folks on board (once the dust from the stampede had settled) were sweet and kind towards each other.
I also don’t mind blowing snot rockets and not using toilet paper. The jig is up.
My friend who had, in good nature, pointed out my alleged one-sidedness of India had also recently been traveling India on business. Staying in 5-star hotels, flying while his representing local agent traveled by train to meet him, receiving private cars to collect him at the airport. He was visiting premiere universities and meeting with high ranking officials, scientists, and professors. This side of India (as well as this side of life) is completely foreign to me.
Student’s bikes parked at the Indian Institute of Technology in Delhi
His experience stems from a technological and cosmopolitan view, where India is showing great strides in recent advances. Battling corruption, fighting for women’s rights, standing for social justice, and eliminating pollution are all significant platforms towards advancing sophistication and societal evolution. For example, a new law is in progress right now that states that an applicant’s cast status may not be examined as criterion for college admission. By enforcing this anti prejudice on a college level, it will translate to future generations. “If you don’t respect women, you don’t respect your county,” is a slogan you will here repeatedly on television. Without his insight, I would have never known about this- as I haven’t had the opportunity (and likely won’t) to watch any Indian TV.
My experience traveling India, both last year and right now, is strictly from a backpacker’s perspective. This means cutting corners, constantly counting rupees, calculating deals on all exchanges from room costs to taxi fairs and everything in between, and more often than not, taking the low road. Of course India has a small population of extremely wealthy people. Naturally, they have shiny new hotel rooms with epic views and room service and pillow top mattress. But these are not the people and these are not the places that I am encountering on my travels. And I will not bore you with the details of these places, which are typical and commonplace in our country. We are used to abundance and cleanliness. My purpose is not to dispel the ways in which India is similar to the US in these ways.
Signs on campus at the Indian Institute of Technology in Delhi
India is an enormous country with a massive population. I do not intend to over generalize stereotypes or to complain about cultural differences. India is a magical and colorful place and it is the drastic contrasts that make it such a fascinating country to visit and explore. So don’t get me wrong. When I dwell on the oddities and divulge the uncomfortable details, it is simply because those are the most interesting parts. I obviously came back to India for a reason, and it wasn’t just to kvetch about all of the exposed wires, lumpy pillows, power outages, and beggars with leprosy.
Last year, I spent twelve hours riding general class on the Indian train from someplace in Kerala all the way to Mangalore in a luggage rack. And there are luggage racks that are sometimes used as seats that resemble the sleeper bunks. This was not one of them. I am talking about a legitimate luggage rack. For luggage. The space between the hard metal bars and the cob webs coating the florescent overhead train lights was perhaps a foot and a half. I slept with an eye mask on (my Ipod obviously died about 20 minutes into the journey) and my head nestled on what felt like a bag of bricks, trusting my backpack on the floor in the aisle of the train.
I did not sleep on the rack for fun, oh no. But because I wanted some personal space. The train was so overcrowded with men who stared relentlessly, grandmas and infants spread out on tapestries across the floors, people piled onto each other’s laps in the seats. And the traffic on the train was nonstop. Each time it screeched to a halt, there were passengers coming and going. And coming and going. During all hours of the night.
Friends I made on the train
Needless to say, you won’t find a guidebook in the world that recommends traveling general class on an Indian train. My well-traveled uncle had explicitly warned me against doing so. In fact, he had insisted that I ought to only travel 2nd Class AC or higher. But I was on a mission: to get to Paradise Beach in Gokarna to spend the full moon at a Rainbow Gathering. And this was the only way it was going to happen.
The train ticket for the 12 hour journey cost about a dollar. No one ever checked my ticket.
Upon arriving in Mangalore, I had to wait for another train (6 more hours) to get to my final destination. When I arrived, I have never felt so dirty or grimy in my entire life. The dip in the ocean that ultimately followed was one of the most crowning victories of my life. I had earned it. And I truly cherish this experience as one of the most insane things I have ever done. But that is how the Indians travel: general class. Why should I enjoy the comforts and luxuries that the air-conditioned units with their clean sheets and sleeper beds provide? What will I learn from that?
My point is: I aim to represent India in all of its glory. And sometimes, it ain’t so pretty. But neither is the good old US of A.
Allison Cohn loves gold spray paint and nonsense. She also has a very difficult time sitting still and keeping quiet. She can often be found dancing like a fool when she isn’t hiding out in her mountain lair or gallivanting around the globe.