… Or what being back in Canada is like after almost 3 months in India…
I use the term “reverse culture shock” loosely. The following items aren’t entirely about culture, but life in India, generally speaking. These are things I’ve noticed as different to Canada, things I miss, or things uniquely India. Let’s go.
Language
I think it goes without saying that one of the first things a person notices after traveling or living overseas is that the language (if not only the accent) is different. It’s always nice to understand what people are saying (like at home), but it’s also fun not to understand sometimes (and tune it all out). I miss the Indian accent; it grew on me like a rapidly sprouting vine. And I miss my little kiddies yammering away in Hindi, calling me didi.
The art, the science, the craft, the religion of delivery.
Without fail, almost once per day, I think to myself, “If I were in India, I would just call someone up and get that delivered.”
You name it, it can be delivered in India. I first treated myself to this free home delivery service when I was wicked-hungover and desperately required Oreos and orange Gatorade. If it doesn’t cost any extra, why wouldn’t I get it delivered? Some people may have qualms with this, claiming that it is disrespectful or abusive in some way, but truthfully, the delivery service creates jobs for people.
If you want beer, medicine or cookies, it will be on your doorstep, just a phone call away.
Traffic. Honking. All the noise.
India is synonymous with blaring horns and functionally disorganized traffic. I adapted quickly to the streets and taking rickshaws because I spent my time with people who live in India; I just followed their leads. During my two week trip through India and Nepal, I was reminded how unusual this way of driving is to the Western world. I loved riding in rickshaws and other forms of local transport with people who’d only been in India for a few days. Their shrieks and tightly squeezed eyes had me cackling straight from my diaphragm.
Now that I’m home, traffic just seems predictable and silly. People cope with a lot less on the road here and don’t fare as well as Indians do.
Excuse me, there’s a man behind you riding on a white horse in a wedding procession, and you are staring at me?
INDIAN MEN STARING
It’s no mystery that Indian men are known for staring. After a couple of weeks in Mumbai, I realised that Indian men are harmless, despite all the shit they (and the country) get in the media. Of course, one must be careful and not taunt a large group of Indian men, but they only stare because they are curious and uneducated. The kids I worked with (who are from the slums) asked why men would stare at their didi, and hearing this made me so proud of them!
This, I do not miss!
Haggling and being ripped off and taken for all my white-slash-foreign skin is worth.
Yes, just because I’m white, Indians assume I have a lot of money. By their standards, this may be true, despite my tight student/volunteer budget. Every time I went to a market, any market, I had to be in the mood to haggle. Sometimes this was fun, sometimes I had a good laugh with a shopkeeper, but sometimes the salespeople were outright rude. Granted, they weren’t always Indian, but the experience of haggling can be a bit tiresome, especially when I just want a bag of cucumbers and don’t want to have to spend three times as much as the Indian lady after me. That said, even paying three times as much was usually pennies. So… I guess my student budget really did go far in India.
Eat with the right, wipe with the left.
The notion of having one perpetually dirty or tainted hand became normal to me. Still to this day, I am aware of how I use my left hand, thinking people might judge me for misusing the poop hand. In India, it’s customary to eat strictly with the right hand and use water (from a bucket or a bum gun) to clean yourself after a number 2. This splashing is done with the left hand. I can’t say I ditched my western toilet paper using ways completely, but by the end of my stay in India, I really appreciated the bum gun, and now I think I need one whenever I have my own home (and the money to install one!).
Drinking tap water
Wait, I don’t have to filter it? I can just drink it like that, straight out of the tap?
This is endlessly thrilling now that I’m home. You have no idea. Or maybe you do. But then you’ve probably been somewhere like India.
Flushing toilet paper
Another serious thrill. When I was in Qatar visiting Colin and Claire, I actually shouted to them through the bathroom door, “Can you flush toilet paper here?” and Claire promptly answered, “Yes!”
Since India, I have caught myself a couple of times looking for a waste paper basket for my toilet paper, and when I remember I can flush it, I triumphantly toss it in the water and flush with zeal.
Sunset time
The sun went to bed every day sometime between 6:00 pm and 7:00 pm during my stay in Mumbai. This was disorienting when I went to Europe and visited a long lost friend in Wales. We would spend the day adventuring and exploring, and by the time we were ready to come home, it was well past 9:00 pm, and the sun still hadn’t set. Meanwhile, I thought we still had all the time in the world to dawdle and cook dinner and watch a movie.
The sun sets late in Winnipeg during the summer, and I think I am slowly getting used to the lingering daylight hours once more.
All the animals
The animals were everywhere in India, and my heart broke for them every single day. I knew this had become normal to me when I saw a friend post on Facebook about a lost dog she’d found in a park somewhere. My instinct was that she should just leave it alone, and why was she even bothering the dog when there were hundreds of other dogs roaming the street homeless, nibbling off their own fur from the itch of the fleas - oh wait… I’m in India. You’re in Canada. This was a jolting reality check.
Now… Here’s a brief homage to some of the cutie cute animals from my time there.
And last, but never least, this little guy. I had a massive meltdown at the end of the day, after this tiny kitten slept in my arms one afternoon. It was earth shattering. When I get the heart to, I will write about it one day and share the story.
To finish off, I’d like to share a video I made a few weeks ago, right when I returned to Canada from my journey. Things were still fresh and vibrant in my mind, and I wanted to capture it all while it was raw. Here it is… I hope you like it.
Have you ever been to India? How did you feel when you got home?
Also, have you ever been curious about volunteering in India? I am going to write a post all about what I went through to volunteer with One! International, and what I think you should know. I am going to cover things like visas, accommodation, food and even a little bit of ethics. Is there anything YOU would like to know about? Let me know in the comments below!
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