plus/minus to being a gori (foreigner)

It's been a little over six months since Jake and I started this trip (apparently reaching the 6 month mark means that we're world citizens, but I'd say that's debatable), and some days I feel like an Indian traveling wizard, and other days I feel like I'm back in the Bombay on day 1, feeling overwhelmed and terrified as we ran from ear cleaners and fake holy men. I still wear the (now dusty pink and gray) string around my right wrist, that was tied on by an old man in bright orange with wild gray hair on our very first day in India. We were driven to the Colaba district straight to the Gateway of India, in the city of Bombay, where we were bombarded with Indian tourists wanting to take our photo, loads of white people, lots of stares, an ambush ear cleaning (aww Jake..) and this 'holy man'. He tied the string around our wrists, put a bright red tikka powder dot on our foreheads and demanded 200 rupees. We scoffed, we laughed, gave him 10 rupees, and continued on our way. I still wear that string as a reminder of that incredibly overwhelming and exciting first day, as worn out and unraveled as it may be. I was so uncertain in everything I did-- was I paying too much, were people staring because of what I was wearing, was I going the right way-- Now six months later, there are things that I know and can navigate confidently, but there are still things that I'm still just as unsure about, if not more...

If I'm not in a hurry, I can talk to the begger kids a little bit and buy them some ice cream, or I can give some fruit to the begging women. Other times, it's 'vas vas, nahin nahin' (enough enough, no no) and I'm on my way. Still there's a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach sometimes, and I just freeze, unsure of what to do when I see their faces and hands outstretched. Paying for an auto is another thing-- initially I would accept overpaying, yell in English, or try to be nice in English, but still entirely unsure of the rules. I knew I was overpaying, but part of me figured that I needed to learn some of the game in order to play it right. Now I can hold my own in Hindi pretty well, give directions, and have a general sense of the city of Delhi, and I still find that I'm overpaying and having to fight with a lot of the drivers. Same thing with buying fruits, vegetables, dry goods, handicrafts, anything and everything-- no matter how much Hindi I speak, I still have to haggle and fight and eventually overpay.

About a month ago, I vented about how irritating it was to be constantly reminded of my outsider status.. However, the more I look around, and watch my Indian friends and Indian strangers navigate this place, I realize that it's not just a gori thing. If you're a life-long Delhi-ite, speaking perfect Hindi, and obviously very Indian, you're still going to have to fight and argue with the vendors and the auto drivers. You still get that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you see beggers. Recently I've been reading a lot of travel forums, reading what future travelers to India have to ask-- most of them have this idea that India is out to rip them off-- and in a way, it's true- foreigners are much much more likely to overpay, get cheated, and get scammed- but at the same time, I watch Indians around me calmly tell these foreigners (and I include my '6 month ago self' in this group) that all people, foreign or not, have to haggle, struggle, fight, and try not to get scammed. It's a matter of learning the rules, playing it right, and keeping patience. Still, it's something that is difficult to hear- I think it can really only be learned through experience again and again..

While many foreigners are subjected to the 'white tax' (I, for example, overheard an auto driver bluntly tell my Indian friend that we needed to pay more because I'm white), foreigners also get a substantial amount of 'white privilege'. Little things from getting into a club that only allows smart pants when you're wearing shorts (ah hem, jake in pune), to getting into a soldout Indian classical music concert for free, to getting put in the front row of theater performances, to ex-pat night at clubs in Delhi, to being invited to people's homes for the most personal of rituals. Today, my landlord told me to come down to her flat at 11am. I obliged and found myself seated in the inner circle of a puja and aarti ceremony for the anniversary of her husband's death. There were friends and family seated all around the flat, but I was sitting with the immediate family in the center, performing the rituals with them, singing when I could, and trying to keep in rhythm with them. It's amazing how much people are willing to open up their homes and their lives to you, when they know you've come from far away...

So I guess what I've come to understand over these past 6 months, is that it's all bittersweet. Being a gori can be good, bad, and just about everything in between. Learning Hindi and learning local customs helps, but it's certainly no golden ticket. Being a foreigner can help get in to many places, from 5 star hotels to concerts, but actually one place my foreign-ness has barred me from is the prison. I've been writing this report and researching Tihar prison for the past month now, and today I've found that there has been recent legislation passed that requires all foreigners who want to visit the prison to register with the police, the courts, and the Ministry of Home Security. In other words, it would take a very long time to get done, if ever... Of course there are more illicit ways I could get myself a visit to the prison, but that would be more like a one-way ticket kind of thing. So sadly I will not be visiting the prison like I had originally thought.. However, this month has given me a great base to start from- kind of like a springboard to potential future research (because god knows I already need to get back to Delhi before I've even left...). It's one more bittersweet thing about being here, but I'm okay with it...