SHAIL-
At 3:05 AM on the auspicious - or so I pretended it to be - day of May 12th, I landed at Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel International Airport in Ahmedabad. After eleven years, I was returning to my motherland. What’s more, I was not sure what to expect—I’d forgotten about this country I was apparently born in.
Just two hours before landing, I had been playing songs on my iPhone with my trendy Skullcandy headphones while aimlessly watching some American movie on the TV screen they provide for each passenger. I donned Nike Elite socks and a nifty Fitbit Alta.
I needed to pee. I walked to the back of the airplane and, as I expected, was greeted with a toilet, a sink, and “gourmet” soap. Hours later, while presenting my e-Visa to the immigration officer, I realized something:
It was time to pee again.
I stood in front of a hole in the ground. Yes, a literal hole carved into the ground. There was a sink, but no “gourmet” soap. Instead, there rested an overly-used bar of soap.
For so long, I’d taken this for granted. Especially at home, I’ve complained whenever our hand soap supply ran low. Expectations were set: body wash and hand soap were a given no matter where I went. Overall, the same problem rings true throughout all of American society: no matter whose house you’re at, soap of some sort is expected. While not true for all of India, these shoddy conditions are not unusual to residents. The smallest of novelties are ones we’ve come to expect.
Everywhere I went, I was referred to as a NRI, or a Non Resident of India. I was treated as if I was a special guest who could not survive India in its purest form. Initially, I took offense to such treatment, but as time passed, I realized it was imperative. In each house I visited, the hosts turned on their custom AC units and set them to the coldest settings. Despite such “special” accommodations, the room just barely managed to reach 85 degrees.
Imagine you have a house. Open the door, walk in, and sit down somewhere. Think about the temperature. 65 degrees? 70? 75? In India, try 90 degrees. Our standards for any given place of residence in America is comparatively high. Lease an apartment, and you get a stove, microwave, and air-conditioning unit. Meanwhile in India, there's no guarantee that an apartment will even come with a fan, much less air conditioning, and a stove is only available if you've dished out enough rupees. Air conditioning is a gift, not a given, in India. Here in the states, we’ve become so frequently exposed to these amenities that they’ve become something we automatically expect.
After spending a week meeting family, I was given the opportunity to travel to Sarangpur. As we packed our subcompact car with our luggage, my grandma gave me three containers of food with 2 mega-bottles of “my” special Bisleri (The “Ozarka” of India) water. A while after we commenced the four-hour journey, my uncle stopped at a rest area with an ice cream stand, snack bar, and a bathroom. Due to my relatively light breakfast, the notion of food made me drool. I was beginning to make my way to the snack bar when my uncle ushered me towards the bathroom instead. Afterward, he handed me my containers of food, explaining the dry snacks in India were not safe for my health, as there was no guarantee the food was fresh. What’s more, he handed me the warm bottle of water. In contrast, in front of me, I saw people receiving cold glasses of water in steel cups. Yet, regardless of my state of mind, such precaution was necessary. While India has certainly progressed as a nation, the water system is well short of safe. In fact, unless specifically noted, most of India’s water is not safe for individuals whose immune systems are not desensitized to the bacteria.
In comparison, consider your average road trip to another state. When hunger strikes, it’s so convenient to stop and eat at any restaurant. Concerns about food quality and the state of the water? Close to none. Although we criticize restaurants like Taco Bell and Subway, we still trust that their food is safe enough to eat due to FDA regulations. In general, the taste, standard, and quality of the food in these restaurants remain the same, too. Say you want some iced water with your meal. You can ask for some water with no concern about how it’ll impact your health. Before even going to India, my relatives constantly lectured me about not drinking any “outside” water there, especially if it isn’t iced, so I denied any beverage and vigilantly monitored the state of the food I was given on my trip. Health became an issue in the forefront of my mind.
That being said, lack of “gourmet” soap and FDA-approved food is far from all there is to India. While exiting Sardar airport, I was greeted with an oddly familiar scent. The hot humid air slapped my face as I took everything in. Looking into the distance, I saw tall billboards adorned with advertisements for China’s Vivo phone and images of Deepika Padukone promoting beauty products plastered across the streets. This isn’t what I expected. This was a capitalist, consumer culture.
I am definitely not one who’s detached from the world. Come time for the next iPhone launch, I will have already obsessively read numerous articles discussing possible features. A bit too often, I find myself at the mall buying clothes I don’t really need. Throughout the day, I’ll check for the latest in Tesla’s mission to provide a luxurious, all-electric vehicle for the average American consumer. In short, I’m a sucker for material goods, and I’d always assumed this to be a strictly American trait, and that consumer culture would be nonexistent in India. In high school, nearly every Geography class painted India as a country that looks like this:
At 3:05 AM on the auspicious - or so I pretended it to be - day of May 12th, I landed at Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel International Airport in Ahmedabad. After eleven years, I was returning to my motherland. What’s more, I was not sure what to expect—I’d forgotten about this country I was apparently born in.
Just two hours before landing, I had been playing songs on my iPhone with my trendy Skullcandy headphones while aimlessly watching some American movie on the TV screen they provide for each passenger. I donned Nike Elite socks and a nifty Fitbit Alta.
I needed to pee. I walked to the back of the airplane and, as I expected, was greeted with a toilet, a sink, and “gourmet” soap. Hours later, while presenting my e-Visa to the immigration officer, I realized something:
It was time to pee again.
I stood in front of a hole in the ground. Yes, a literal hole carved into the ground. There was a sink, but no “gourmet” soap. Instead, there rested an overly-used bar of soap.
For so long, I’d taken this for granted. Especially at home, I’ve complained whenever our hand soap supply ran low. Expectations were set: body wash and hand soap were a given no matter where I went. Overall, the same problem rings true throughout all of American society: no matter whose house you’re at, soap of some sort is expected. While not true for all of India, these shoddy conditions are not unusual to residents. The smallest of novelties are ones we’ve come to expect.
Everywhere I went, I was referred to as a NRI, or a Non Resident of India. I was treated as if I was a special guest who could not survive India in its purest form. Initially, I took offense to such treatment, but as time passed, I realized it was imperative. In each house I visited, the hosts turned on their custom AC units and set them to the coldest settings. Despite such “special” accommodations, the room just barely managed to reach 85 degrees.
Imagine you have a house. Open the door, walk in, and sit down somewhere. Think about the temperature. 65 degrees? 70? 75? In India, try 90 degrees. Our standards for any given place of residence in America is comparatively high. Lease an apartment, and you get a stove, microwave, and air-conditioning unit. Meanwhile in India, there's no guarantee that an apartment will even come with a fan, much less air conditioning, and a stove is only available if you've dished out enough rupees. Air conditioning is a gift, not a given, in India. Here in the states, we’ve become so frequently exposed to these amenities that they’ve become something we automatically expect.
After spending a week meeting family, I was given the opportunity to travel to Sarangpur. As we packed our subcompact car with our luggage, my grandma gave me three containers of food with 2 mega-bottles of “my” special Bisleri (The “Ozarka” of India) water. A while after we commenced the four-hour journey, my uncle stopped at a rest area with an ice cream stand, snack bar, and a bathroom. Due to my relatively light breakfast, the notion of food made me drool. I was beginning to make my way to the snack bar when my uncle ushered me towards the bathroom instead. Afterward, he handed me my containers of food, explaining the dry snacks in India were not safe for my health, as there was no guarantee the food was fresh. What’s more, he handed me the warm bottle of water. In contrast, in front of me, I saw people receiving cold glasses of water in steel cups. Yet, regardless of my state of mind, such precaution was necessary. While India has certainly progressed as a nation, the water system is well short of safe. In fact, unless specifically noted, most of India’s water is not safe for individuals whose immune systems are not desensitized to the bacteria.
In comparison, consider your average road trip to another state. When hunger strikes, it’s so convenient to stop and eat at any restaurant. Concerns about food quality and the state of the water? Close to none. Although we criticize restaurants like Taco Bell and Subway, we still trust that their food is safe enough to eat due to FDA regulations. In general, the taste, standard, and quality of the food in these restaurants remain the same, too. Say you want some iced water with your meal. You can ask for some water with no concern about how it’ll impact your health. Before even going to India, my relatives constantly lectured me about not drinking any “outside” water there, especially if it isn’t iced, so I denied any beverage and vigilantly monitored the state of the food I was given on my trip. Health became an issue in the forefront of my mind.
That being said, lack of “gourmet” soap and FDA-approved food is far from all there is to India. While exiting Sardar airport, I was greeted with an oddly familiar scent. The hot humid air slapped my face as I took everything in. Looking into the distance, I saw tall billboards adorned with advertisements for China’s Vivo phone and images of Deepika Padukone promoting beauty products plastered across the streets. This isn’t what I expected. This was a capitalist, consumer culture.
I am definitely not one who’s detached from the world. Come time for the next iPhone launch, I will have already obsessively read numerous articles discussing possible features. A bit too often, I find myself at the mall buying clothes I don’t really need. Throughout the day, I’ll check for the latest in Tesla’s mission to provide a luxurious, all-electric vehicle for the average American consumer. In short, I’m a sucker for material goods, and I’d always assumed this to be a strictly American trait, and that consumer culture would be nonexistent in India. In high school, nearly every Geography class painted India as a country that looks like this:
In a nation with over 1.3 billion people, such an obsession with contemporary trends is certainly not something I had imagined. Yet, the more time I spent in India, the more I realized fashion and trends were an integral aspect of youth culture. As my cousin and I relaxed in the basement on a slothful Tuesday, I asked him what we should do, and he suggested a trip to the mall. Reluctantly, I agreed. Much to my surprise, these multi-story edifices were filled to the brim on a weekday. Compared to the empty American mall, there was no shortage of consumers.
While my time in India can be summarized as one magnificent cultural shock, perhaps what stands out to me today are the aspects of India that no other country can match. Foremost, the social culture. Nearly every night in India, I found myself meeting guests that came to our home, or I traveled with my family to be greeted at someone else’s home. Upon arrival, the hosts would embrace us with open arms, usher us in, give us seats, and simply sit and chat with us for about 30 minutes or so. Within two minutes of having been seated, we would be offered warm chai along with ice-cold water (which I had to respectfully deny). This aspect of Indian culture was invigorating and rich. There’s something fulfilling about spending evenings with loved ones and cherishing life one conversation at a time. After chatting, the dinner would start. No matter how many times you would say no, the food would keep coming. With love, you would be fed to the brink of vomiting. The experience was sickening yet comforting.
Second, the spiritual culture. Hinduism is infused into each and every aspect of India. Obviously, such a structure is not possible in a great nation like America where all religions are welcome and separation of church and state is law. However, it was certainly interesting seeing a nation whose very political system was largely based on Hinduism. Don’t get me wrong, I am a Hindu, and this entire piece is opinionated. But, regardless of what religion you may practice, there’s something intriguing about seeing a nation set up to where a trip to the grocery store will reflect the preference of one religion over another. More specifically, due to the no alcohol policy enforced in the nation of Gujarat, there will not be a single grocery store carrying alcohol. Furthermore, no matter which restaurant you go to in Gujarat, there will nearly always be a vegetarian or no onion-garlic option. Every Sunday, many rush to one of several religious temples, commonly known as mandirs. A few beautiful mandirs include the Swaminarayan Akshardham Temple in Gandhinagar as well as the BAPS Mandir located in Gadhada. These structures are monumental and majestic, all at once.
I landed in America with a new perspective. Prior to my trip, I had complained about the president, our monetary problems, and the injustices this country has done to me. Lost in these thoughts, I had forgotten the freedoms I enjoyed every single day. No matter how much I may criticize this nation, there’s so much to be grateful for every single day—it doesn’t hurt to take a step back every now and then, take a look at life, and just give thanks.
India is a beauty and a beast. Its consumer-crazed culture and its crude living conditions are no short of horrendous, and such aspects of India are certainly unsavory. But its magnificent mandirs and its alluring social culture leave me no short of dumbfounded and longing to return as soon as possible. Although I enjoy wifi at any given location, universal air conditioning, and guaranteed safety at any restaurant, my love lies with the beastly India - in whom I see unprecedented beauty.
CHECK OUT THESE PICS I TOOK!
BAPS Shaibhag Mandir, Ahmedabad
BAPS Sarangpur Mandir
BAPS Gadhada Mandir
Gadhada Swaminarayan Mandir
Streets of Gadhada
Terrible quality picture, high quality people :)
