Freedom of Foreignness

One of the most challenging aspects of adapting to Hubli’s culture (a word that often oversimplifies the complexities of what I experience) is the fact that locals will never let me forget that I look different. When I first arrived in India (for my second time) over a year ago, I thought I would never get used to the constant staring. Yet here I am, a year later, and not only am I used to the staring, but I also realize that I have license to stare back. I don’t blame anyone and it’s not always bad; sometimes it even works to my advantage. It’s just the way it is.

There are many aspects of local culture that I have adopted into my daily life: I usually address my superiors as sir or madam, take the local bus to work every day, dress in salwar suits or saris, bathe with a bucket instead of a shower, cook Indian food and then eat it with my right hand, haggle over just a few rupees with a fruit vendor or rickshaw driver, use water instead of toilet paper when I use the bathroom, take my shoes off when I enter the house, don’t say hello to people I pass on my street, use Kannada or Hindi when I actually know the appropriate words, I bobble my head as an affirmative, and sometimes segregate myself from men whenever I see local women doing the same.

It’s not always easy. There are certain things about my culture that I am unwilling to give up and certain things about Indian/Hubli culture that I am unwilling to adopt: I almost always eat a western breakfast (except when idli-sambar is available); I try to befriend street dogs; I refuse to not talk to certain people because of their caste, class, or professional designations; I find Indian corruption, whether at the national, local, or NGO level, abhorrent (yet complicated); and I won’t drink water out of the tap.

There’s a certain freedom about my foreignness that allows me to reject certain aspects of local culture and maintain certain aspects of my own. Yet the one thing I struggle with the most is how to maintain my independence, how to slip into anonymity when that’s what I want and how to go wherever I want whenever I want to go there. I’ve learned over the past 13 months that many locals consider this kind of thinking “un-Indian,” especially for women. But in my mind, it’s still a constant battle.

Regardless, figuring out local mindsets and practices is one of my favorite activities. Why is it that people do the things they do, and why don’t they do them differently? Being here for only thirteen months, I realize I’ve only hit on the very tip of the iceberg.