Probably one of the most clichéd titles for blog posts is the oops-i-either-forgot-about-this-or-didn’t-feel-like-writing-in-it phrase, “I’m back.” This time, it means that I’ve traveled back to Palampur, Himachal Pradesh to facilitate and launch five new interns from Michigan State University.
The journey from Delhi was as hectic and taxing as usual. This time, it was a 14-hour overnight bus ride without air conditioning and with two bathroom breaks. As it turns out, Himachal is to India as Mackinac Island is to Michigan, and almost every form of transport in existence was booked far in advance. Needless to say, I’m quite happy that this time I knew the ropes in Delhi, had a clean hotel to stay in and recharged my prepaid SIM right at the airport.
“ Authenticated or not, rural or urban, global citizen or nationalist adherent, at least everyone is thinking these days. ”
I might as well be back in America. Or, at least, in a new global security-stasis fueled by lots of money. I arrived at Indira Gandhi International Airport (and doesn’t even the name have thorny socio-political ramifications?) a few hours back. As I have half a day to spend before the flight boards, I’ve scoped out the “visitor’s lounge,” in which flatscreen monitors display flight times, a latte is $2 and the wi-fi is “free.” Free, that is, if you manage to get past the Rs. 30 entrance fee, which only exists if you’re Indian. Let me explain: when I arrived at the entrance, before speaking, I must’ve looked as Indian as anyone. Dirty clothes, fresh from a government bus ride, short, darker skin, Indian haircut and beard. The attendants sized me up, and gruffly (in Hindi) stated the entrance fee policy. I mentioned, in English, that there was free admittance to those with a flight in the next 8 hours (knowing fully that my flight didn’t leave for 12). That’s all it took. The SorrySirs began and they waved me in.
A quick note before I proceed: there has been much alarmism bandied about in the name of saving the world from the American cultural disease. I will say this: one of the side effects of globalization is that any cultural disease that emerges is not necessarily neocolonialist or limited to one country’s influence. What emerges, disease or otherwise, is a product of humanity, not nationality.
It’s comfortable here. The noise level is low, the air is clean and the food is plentiful, even diverse. I’ve had the most expensive and least flavorful biryani of my entire trip. I’ve got my eye on one of those lattes. But nothing about this atmosphere would exist without class division and lots of money. It’s one small piece of a growing “globalized” system that, while not the McDonalds-everywhere horror story of early 2000s political rhetoric, is becoming an Atwood-esque world of authenticated, tagged, comfortable individuals (and our counterparts, conversely implied to be inauthentic, non-genuine…like pirated software). The Commonwealth Games loom; the new global order shows.
Social/cultural/economic issues aside (even listing them would require a few volumes), here’s my take: the “authenticated” lifestyle is a really boring one. I’ve spent three months ignoring years of conditioning on subjects as diverse as hygiene, social behavior, look-at-but-don’t-talk-to-or-touch-the-strangers and all the other hypersanitized, xenosuspicious tendencies that comprise a typical American upbringing…and I firmly believe that, while I welcome my re-entry into the fold, my conception of humanity’s potential and its limitations has been forever altered. That’s all for now. See some of you soon.
It’s impossible to(edit, 11/29) for a microcosmic representation of a country like India to exist. This, however, does not prevent externalities from shaping small-town life in ways that illustrate India’s rapidly changing economic realities. I feel that preface was necessary for the following anecdote:
I walked up to the shop today where I sometimes buy soda. “Pepsi in a glass bottle?” I asked. “PET only,” the dukhandar said.
Whether it’s the upcoming multiplex, new designer clothing store or air-conditioned bank branches, things are rapidly changing the social dynamic, cultural values and economic order in Palampur. Every day another student shows up with a laptop, netbook or mobile to be registered on the WiFi network. This contrasts starkly with the situation at my host family’s house, where a different generation looks wide-eyed at receipts that show 2kgs of rice at Rs 160. “Youngistaan,” as Pepsico has branded India’s youth of my age, has more discretionary income than their parents. Many of those I’ve met take a cavalier, skeptical attitude toward their parents’ and grandparents’ customs, financial habits and especially religions. If this is increasingly the trend in semi-rural northern India, what must it be like elsewhere? While the contexts are vastly different, I can’t help but feel a thread of parallelism between this trend and the late 1950s in the US. What do you think? Are parts of India on the cusp of a mainstream, wide-ranging, cultural sea change…again?
