culture shock in india
Lynne and her husband, Troy, have just returned from a trip to India - where they spent most of their time in Bombay, or Mombai as the Indians call it - and the first thing she talks about is the amount of Coca Cola they were forced to consume for want of anything more palatable.
"Troy and I don't drink Coca Cola - or Pepsi, or any type of cola drink - at home," says Lynne, "so that's an indication of how scared we were of disease while visiting India."
"There are two distinct areas of Bombay - one for the haves and one for the have-nots," explains Lynne, "and Troy and I drank Coca Cola in both areas. Whether we were in the plush establishments filled with dusky women draped in purples silk saris and adorned with more gold than any western women would dare wear, or the filthy market places lined with armless and legless beggar children, we opted for Coca Cola rather than drink the local beverages, or anything out of a glass."
"We just didn’t trust the water system, the hygiene standards of kitchen staff or bottled beverages carrying alien names," says Lynne. "Sure, Coca Cola was alien to our systems - we hated the stuff - but it was less alien than the local beverages and the brand name carried some warranty of hygiene."
"Even if it had been manufactured in India," says Lynne, "it had to be safer than drinking the stuff that was offered to us by our gracious guides."
Thankfully, nobody thought it odd that Lynne and Troy would prefer Coca Cola - it was assumed that all Americans consumed Coca Cola for breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper - and they tried gallantly not to gag as they swallowed the tooth-rotting stuff.
Lynne and Troy’s guides were two Bombay students who had been studying and working in America for a while. Lynne had befriended them at her workplace and looked them up when she and Troy were in Bombay.
They showed the young couple places they would never have visited on their own, and Lynne is not too sure whether she even wanted to see and smell what she did, but she maintains that seeing places like Bombay makes home all the more something to be thankful for.
Lynne says that the upmarket area of Bombay is much like any other big city, with an Asian flavor, but the downmarket area of Bombay is like the black hole of Calcutta.
"The smell is indescribable," says Lynne. "Abject poverty has a stench about it that no human being should have to bear, and wild animals live cleaner than the poor people of Bombay."
People were lying in filth and puddles along the roads. They might have been dead for all Lynne knows. But what got to her were the children.
Naked or dressed in rags, Lynne had never seen so many maimed children outside of a hospital or war zone. They hobbled up to her and begged, their little hands cupped.
Lynne was advised not to give them anything. Her guides quite matter of factly told her that the parents of these children had deliberately maimed their sons and daughters in order to make them better beggars.
"All those television advertisements we see of impoverished and sick children in India are true," says Lynne, "and when I asked our guides why the rich people of India allow their people to live in such filth and poverty I was given a lecture on karma and the Hindu caste system."
"Apparently," explains Lynne, "the poor in India are called 'untouchables' and they are living their life destiny in the Hindu caste system which is also a religion. Because it is their destiny, they don't aspire to live decent lives. Oh really, I thought. What crap."
"There are many extraordinarily wealthy people in India who openly flaunt their wealth," says Lynne. "You would not see western people behaving in such an ostentatious manner around poor people."
Lynne can now understand why Christianity is on the rise in India.
"The only way the 'untouchables' can gain a better life is to convert to Christianity," says Lynne, "so bang goes the Hindu destiny theory."
Two phrases Lynne and Troy learned quickly in India were: 'tom jow' and 'ider row' - with the 'ow' pronounced as in 'cow' - meaning 'go away' and 'come here' respectively.
"Believe it or not," laughs Lynne, "but those two phrases - and Coca Cola - were all we needed to know in order to get by in India."
Now safely home and back at work, Lynne admits that any romantic notion she had about India - or Bombay in particular - is soured.
Unfortunately, she has even developed a racist attitude towards Indians, believing that their culture is abominable.
"There are pockets of poverty in plenty of rich countries," says Lynne, "but our culture - and our rich people - would never allow filth and human degradation to co-exist with luxury in the way they do in India. It's unnatural."
"That we are supposed to be economic partners with India is a frightful thought," says Lynne. "No matter how many of our jobs go offshore to India, the jobs and wealth will go to the wealthy, not the poor."
"No matter that India is the biggest democracy in the world," says Lynne, "it's culture is deliberately designed so that the underclass will always be the underclass."
"Troy and I don't drink Coca Cola - or Pepsi, or any type of cola drink - at home," says Lynne, "so that's an indication of how scared we were of disease while visiting India."
"There are two distinct areas of Bombay - one for the haves and one for the have-nots," explains Lynne, "and Troy and I drank Coca Cola in both areas. Whether we were in the plush establishments filled with dusky women draped in purples silk saris and adorned with more gold than any western women would dare wear, or the filthy market places lined with armless and legless beggar children, we opted for Coca Cola rather than drink the local beverages, or anything out of a glass."
"We just didn’t trust the water system, the hygiene standards of kitchen staff or bottled beverages carrying alien names," says Lynne. "Sure, Coca Cola was alien to our systems - we hated the stuff - but it was less alien than the local beverages and the brand name carried some warranty of hygiene."
"Even if it had been manufactured in India," says Lynne, "it had to be safer than drinking the stuff that was offered to us by our gracious guides."
Thankfully, nobody thought it odd that Lynne and Troy would prefer Coca Cola - it was assumed that all Americans consumed Coca Cola for breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper - and they tried gallantly not to gag as they swallowed the tooth-rotting stuff.
Lynne and Troy’s guides were two Bombay students who had been studying and working in America for a while. Lynne had befriended them at her workplace and looked them up when she and Troy were in Bombay.
They showed the young couple places they would never have visited on their own, and Lynne is not too sure whether she even wanted to see and smell what she did, but she maintains that seeing places like Bombay makes home all the more something to be thankful for.
Lynne says that the upmarket area of Bombay is much like any other big city, with an Asian flavor, but the downmarket area of Bombay is like the black hole of Calcutta.
"The smell is indescribable," says Lynne. "Abject poverty has a stench about it that no human being should have to bear, and wild animals live cleaner than the poor people of Bombay."
People were lying in filth and puddles along the roads. They might have been dead for all Lynne knows. But what got to her were the children.
Naked or dressed in rags, Lynne had never seen so many maimed children outside of a hospital or war zone. They hobbled up to her and begged, their little hands cupped.
Lynne was advised not to give them anything. Her guides quite matter of factly told her that the parents of these children had deliberately maimed their sons and daughters in order to make them better beggars.
"All those television advertisements we see of impoverished and sick children in India are true," says Lynne, "and when I asked our guides why the rich people of India allow their people to live in such filth and poverty I was given a lecture on karma and the Hindu caste system."
"Apparently," explains Lynne, "the poor in India are called 'untouchables' and they are living their life destiny in the Hindu caste system which is also a religion. Because it is their destiny, they don't aspire to live decent lives. Oh really, I thought. What crap."
"There are many extraordinarily wealthy people in India who openly flaunt their wealth," says Lynne. "You would not see western people behaving in such an ostentatious manner around poor people."
Lynne can now understand why Christianity is on the rise in India.
"The only way the 'untouchables' can gain a better life is to convert to Christianity," says Lynne, "so bang goes the Hindu destiny theory."
Two phrases Lynne and Troy learned quickly in India were: 'tom jow' and 'ider row' - with the 'ow' pronounced as in 'cow' - meaning 'go away' and 'come here' respectively.
"Believe it or not," laughs Lynne, "but those two phrases - and Coca Cola - were all we needed to know in order to get by in India."
Now safely home and back at work, Lynne admits that any romantic notion she had about India - or Bombay in particular - is soured.
Unfortunately, she has even developed a racist attitude towards Indians, believing that their culture is abominable.
"There are pockets of poverty in plenty of rich countries," says Lynne, "but our culture - and our rich people - would never allow filth and human degradation to co-exist with luxury in the way they do in India. It's unnatural."
"That we are supposed to be economic partners with India is a frightful thought," says Lynne. "No matter how many of our jobs go offshore to India, the jobs and wealth will go to the wealthy, not the poor."
"No matter that India is the biggest democracy in the world," says Lynne, "it's culture is deliberately designed so that the underclass will always be the underclass."
Labels: coca cola, culture shock, india, interracial, racism
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