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Saying Goodbye

Published on December 19, 2018December 20, 2018 by aberset2Leave a comment

My auto-rickshaw is the first to pull up to the intersection, where the red light and traffic guard notify us we will be here for a while. As there are five other roads connecting at this intersection, it typically takes fifteen minutes before your turn arrives. The driver is prepared for this after having done it numerous times, as he turns off the bike and pulls up YouTube on his phone. Auto-rickshaws have three wheels, so they are a bike in that sense, with no doors or windows. The steering wheel is the equivalent to a bike handlebar. Their max speed is 50 mph but we typically cruise at 30. When I ride in them, I am able to hear the noises of the city pass by me and smell each spice being cooked in the street markets.

As we wait, other cars and motorcycles pull up next to us. Motorcycles usually get the first in line access, as they are able to weave in and out of cars. Families crowd on the bikes, with newborn babies sandwiched in between everyone. Masks cover their mouths and hair; their eyes peak out and lock with mine. I also have my scarf wrapped around my face and hair to block out the pollution and dust which circulates in the air. Eyes snake around my auto to see who is in the car, but the scarf around my face disguises my skin, so people quickly lose interest. I watch as those around me also turn off their engines as they glance at the person next to them. Some people strike up a conversation, speaking in Hindi or Telugu or English, depending on where the person is from. Others watch the traffic in front of us, observing as cars systematically dodge others with careful precision.

People slowly grow more inpatient as we wait for our turn to go. Men rev their motorcycles and lurch forward, tapping their foot on the ground. Suddenly, everyone’s engines turn on in a simultaneous rumble. My auto driver frantically reaches for the ignition, scratching the first two times and then finally catching over. Before the light has even turned green, horns blare out from all around me. I hear my auto’s light tut-tut, or horn, release, even though there is no one in front of us.

As the light turns green, motorcycles soar past me, leaving trails of exhaust in their path and spraying dirt at everyone behind them. My auto lurches forward and my head bangs against the back of the seat each time he switches gears. He moves the small car over to the left, as cars and trucks honk their horns twice, signaling for him to get over. Motorcycles continue to weave in and out of traffic; the drivers look as though they might tip over with each turn. The traffic calms as everyone finds their own pace, whether that be below the speed-limit or 20 kmh over. Yet it will resume as soon as we reach the next intersection.

This experience resembles the time I have spent here. After living in India for five months, I finally feel as though I have mastered this country (to the best of my capacity). I am able to go on solo adventures; I’ve finished all of my classes with great relationships with my professors and classmates; I’ve learned new things about India’s culture which I never thought was possible. I have a comfortable routine, where I go to class and am able to enjoy the beautiful campus which I live on. Days off are dedicated to playing with the stray dogs, who recognize my whistle from half a kilometer away.

Yet it has also been a sensory overload while living here, with new smells, sounds, and textures flooding my mind. I’ve felt weak and incompetent after attempting to speak with people and having no knowledge of their language, even though I am a visitor in their country. It has taken patience and the ability to recognize my flaws for me to realize that not every day will go smoothly. Even when I sit in traffic for hours, aunties will understandingly offer me dinner and tea, as they welcome me, a stranger, into their homes.

There are so many things which I wish I could bring home with me. The hospitality which thrives in Indian culture, the respect of elderly people, the love of cuisine, the various religions. Each aspect of this country has amazed me in the most beautiful way possible. It truly was fate that brought me here to India, thousands of miles away from my home, where I met some of the kindest, most compassionate people I know.

As I return to the U.S., I hope to challenge some of the common notions of India. I hope to break the idea that India is dirty or grimy. People often think of going to India as a ‘spiritual awakening’ where you can ‘find yourself’, but I believe this is such a Westernized fantasy of India that is solely rooted in a lack of awareness. If people continue to view India in this manner, rather than asking themselves why they allow a stereotype to control their conceptions of another country, they will only see the cultural differences that divide us, rather than the humanity that binds us.

Anne Berset

INDIA – UNIVERSITY OF HYDERABAD, 2018 FALL

Anne Berset is double majoring in Creative Writing and Psychology as well as a minor in Philosophy. She is studying at the University of Hyderabad in India for the Fall term, where she will be taking philosophy and political science courses. She hopes to gain a new perspective on culture, politics, and religion while abroad. Anne loves to watch films, go on hikes, and spend time with animals.

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Masala-Chai, Anyone?

Published on November 27, 2018December 20, 2018 by aberset2Leave a comment

When I first arrived in India in July, my director invited us all for tea time after lunch. The tea is called masala-chai and is loaded with spices (much like every Indian dish). Milk and sugar are a must; my director laughed as I described my love for black coffee. We sat at a small table, sipping tea and eating cookies, talking about how my experience has been thus far.

This made me nostalgic of my childhood. My mom had immigrated from England to the United States when she was eighteen. She brought her cultures and ideologies with her, which I continue learning about through the food she eats, the beliefs she has, and the language she uses. I remember the beloved tea set she gave my sister and I. It was white with light pink flowers painted on it. The cups were minuscule, barely the height of my pinky finger, yet it felt as though they were made just for me. After school, I fondly remember my mom driving my sister and I home as her eyes would lock with mine in the rearview mirror, as she said, “You girls ready for tea time once we get back? I made cinnamon bread.” As soon as we would walk through the front door, Mary and I would throw off our shoes and hurl our backpacks on the couch, sliding across the hardwood floor to beat the other to the warm bread. We would compose ourselves as my mother set up the dishes and tea pot, which would be filled with traditional British black tea, milk, and sugar. My mother passed down this tradition to my nieces as well. Whenever they made the journey with my sister from Miami or California – wherever they were stationed at the time – Sophia and Alessandra would run through the doors just like my sister and I did years ago. My mom would already have the tea pot ready for them, where they would sit for hours at the table discussing ‘important matters’.

These memories flood back to me each time I have tea-time with my classmates in Hyderabad. Now tea-time really is for discussing important matters, where conversation always drifts towards politics or religion, with the tea easing our minds into a light-hearted debate. We sit outside of the canteen with stray dogs begging at my feet, drinking the tea which the Auntie’s had brewed.

As more of these meetings take place, I began putting two and two together. Where did my mother’s idea of tea-time come from? Who started the tradition first, Indians or the British? I realized then that this relationship had developed from the British colonists, who only stopped having power in India in 1946. Colonialism is still apparent today, even though years have passed since the end of the British rule. Indian Independence day in August was one of the largest celebrations I have seen during the my time here and it goes to show people’s feelings towards the British colonists.

After realizing this, I began questioning where these traditions originated. As my mother is British, I always assumed that the idea of tea-time, along with many of her other traditions, came from her country. But how do I know that these traditions are really British, and not Indian, which they could have discovered after having colonized India for so many years?

One of my fellow students learned in their sociology course how the first census in India started in 1865 by the British. This was not to advance the Indian civilization; rather, the British were using India as their guinea-pig so that they could understand what type of government is successful for their own country.

It’s often easy to overlook colonialism in the U.S., saying that it happened many years ago or that the Native Americans still have freedom. Yet our own president is actively taking away Native Americans freedom, first with the Dakota Access Pipeline, and then with the new law in North Dakota which requires voters to list a specific street address rather than using a P.O. box. By taking away their homes and their liberty, we edge closer to the further dehumanization of all human beings. The midterm elections welcomed a bright light in a dark time, as two Native American women were elected to Congress.

Colonialism continues to affect modern society, as the idea that one person has the entitlement to take land away from others parallels the dehumanization which occurs throughout much of the world. Hatred and violence has consumed our society, creating a divide which instigates the feeling of superiority in people. It’s important to be aware of the history of the country you are in, especially as much of that history is written by the people who support the oppression of others.

Anne Berset

INDIA – UNIVERSITY OF HYDERABAD, 2018 FALL

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