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More of a Home- than a World-citizen
A European colleague phoned me today to discuss my perspective on what it's like to be on assignment in India, as she's trying to come on assignment here herself.
"How well were you accepted?" she asked, and "Would you do it again?"
"In my experience, most Indians I've met are not so much interested in learning about my culture from me, but they're very interested in my interest in their culture....We were invited to a Ganesh festival event, for example, and were asked to bring a dish to share. 'It's right around the time of the Jewish New Year,' we responded, and, 'We can bring apples and honey, which is our tradition, to promote a sweet new year.'
"Would you bring soda? We actually need some soda," said the person who invited us, with zero response to our mention of the apples-and-honey tradition.
"By contrast, when I ask questions about Indian history, religion, art, literature, and culture at large, everyone lights up and I learn a wonderful amount," I told my colleague.
"That actually makes sense, since don't most people prefer to talk about themselves? Still, it's a good tip -- not to assume an interest in a cultural exchange."
At dinner tonight, Pat suggested another reason: "Sarah, they see it right and left -- American culture -- all over TV, everywhere. Why would they want to know more?"
It doesn't matter. I'd rather it were this way than the other way around, i.e., that they share their culture with me freely, rather than being coy or secretive about it and only asking me to teach them about mine. After all, I am the one who came here. Since I'm lucky enough to share one language in common with many Indians, why not learn as much as I can and not mope about the initial lack of mutual intellectual curiosity.
With anyone with whom I'm having any sort of deep conversation, actually, I volunteer parallels between our cultures that strike me (see Deck the Cars...), as I'm a common-ground hunter by nature.
"Would you do it again?" she asked.
"Oh, well, that's a long answer. First, I need to explain that I didn't ask to come on this assignment; my VP recommended it to me as a great learning opportunity and offered either China or India. I picked India because of the special warmth of the participants in the management development program I facilitated here two years ago, plus I loved the food."
"I don't think I'm the world-citizen that you are [this colleague and I met seven years ago, when both of us worked at 590 Madison Ave. in New York City]. I'm less resilient. I get very homesick. It has been really hard at times.
"My mom will be 82 next month, God willing, and this weekend, I'm missing her receiving a lifetime achievement award from a Jewish women's organization with which she has worked for most of her life [Hadassah].
"*And* the work is more exciting than almost any I've ever done, and I will miss it, I know, upon my return. Everything's blooming here. It's marvelous work-wise."
At dinner, Pat said, "Well, we'd certainly do it differently next time -- like we'd know that the huge security deposit for our sublet was just business as usual, and how the Internet service provider plan worked, and the cell phone application process, and we'd pack better....I don't think I'm ready to go again for at least a year....And we couldn't expect Jeffrey, and Sam and Margaret [our neighbors] to do what they did for us this time [watching the house and keeping our mail]....A former boss who's on assignment in Shanghai for the next two years took me to dinner last week and said, "What you should do is come to China next."
"Oy!" said my mom when I told her, and then reassured her that I'm committed to completing my Masters and have already maxed out the allowance on the non-residency part. My mom was so brave and encouraging about this assignment. I think my mom misses me even more than she thought she would. I miss her as much as I knew I would, and the rest of my family, too.
The Full Moon's Coming
I really ought to have packed for our Taj Mahal trip, which begins at 5:15 am, already, and ought to have been in bed hours ago. Shoulda-woulda-coulda. I'm so wired and tired all at once.
Pat's all packed and snug in bed. I hate the thought of being more than arm's length from a blogging vehicle for the next four days. I am hoping and expecting that the hotels where we stay have web access, so that I don't have to be blogless.
A mentor of mine at work commented that blogging can't qualify as full relaxation, as it's still a form of work. Obviously, he's not a writer at heart...and then again, maybe it'll refresh my self-expression to have a hiatus. Pat needs to upload her photos and videos to her own machine, and so she really will be offline till our return, as she won't bring her laptop with her, which I agree makes sense.
During this vacation, I dream of reading in a bathtub, swimming, eating new foods in new places, seeing extraordinary sights, including the Bahai Lotus Temple in Delhi on Thursday, prior to going to Agra by train the next day, and of happy adventures I can't even anticipate....
For someone who talks about not really being able to relate to others' religions as comfortably as my own, this will be the third Bahai temple I've visited -- one in Haifa, Israel; one in Wilmette, Illinois; and tomorrow, one in Delhi.
Considering the number of Indians I've met who haven't wanted to trade notes initially on similarities and differences of our cultures, I thought about people I know who are less intellectually curious about other cultures and religions than I am, and so who gain zero cultural enrichment in that way. They don't try to share their culture with others, and they don't seek to learn about anyone else's. Maybe that's human nature...and where I go, too, during primitive, visceral moments.
Please, God, let there be nothing visceral about my behavior during this vacation.
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