"I'm living where??" A Recount of First Impressions.
As much as I love to claim how great of a traveler I am and can handle any situation, I must now admit I was definitely experiencing full-on culture shock the first weeks in India. Of course, this is immensely easier to recognize and admit in retrospect than in real time.
As I’m feeling more at home here in Bangalore, it’s amazing to look back on my first impressions of the city. In understanding what was so glaringly disturbing then- and yet barely recognize now - my western tendencies and expectations are perfectly outlined.
Oddly, the most frustrating obstacle began before I even began my misadventures in south Asia. The lack of coherent, correct representation Bangalore received in the international press rendered me lost on what to make of Bangalore before our first baffling encounter. The press, friends abroad, everybody either loved it or hated it.
Luckily I had a suspicion that remembering my observations when I first got here would be helpful down the road… so after spending the initial hectic 10 days exploring everything from grimy gridlocked traffic to fashionable 5 star hotels to getting lost in the neighborhoods on the outskirts of town, I had seen reasonable amount of the city. And fusing the detached experiences together in this new hometown of mine was a confusing challenge.
Thus, I was totally clueless, and recorded the subsequent confusion:
----------------------
A fragment from the first few weeks - "Meeting Stupefaction, Disorientation, and Chaos. Welcome to your new life in India.”
Where is the real Bangalore? On the dusty streets of this city’s scattered slums, on the immaculate, manicured gardens, of info tech companies, or stuck between crumpled government forms in a mountain of paperwork on a corrupt official’s desk?
After scouring through most of the media commentary on Bangalore wondering what the rest of the world thinks of this place, I’ve concluded that nobody actually has it right.
Not that I do either, but most pieces seem to be completely one-sided. Either a western journalist comes to Bangalore, visits the gorgeous IT companies expensive, lush campuses, has a personal army of attendants including chef, butler, driver, and is whisked in a A/C sedan from swanky hotel room to corporate board room but never takes the time to step out onto the crumbing sidewalk, getting that ubiquitous Bangalore dust/sand all over Kenneth Cole loafers, just to a glimpse of what real life is here.
Of course, this journalist sees the incredible promise of a nation filled with intelligent twenty-somethings hungry to use their vast knowledge in the global labor market, large IT consulting firms built up from nothing who are now securing multi-million dollar deals with American MNC’s, and a workforce asking for a fraction of the costs of industrialized nation’s labor. This writer will also make sure to mention the glittery, fully air-conditioned malls which sell Versace perfume next to a vast selection of international weekly news magazines, the preponderance of amenities catering to a westerner’s expat salary (as he recalls those ritzy bars in which he’s been enjoying a 2 buck top shelf whisky). He will then conclude that Bangalore is on the verge of greatness, wonderfully poised to take the world by storm.
The next day, I’ll read another article which takes the opposite stance, written by a journalist who cannot see past the underdevelopment of the city. Semi-exposed sewage drains, mangled dogs staggering across the streets, crowded rows of buildings with dangerously exposed electrical wiring are painfully blatant to the western eye. He’ll proclaim the city doesn’t stand a chance if the government is unable to efficiently upgrade the lagging road system and enforce pollution controls.
Then, as he jumps out of his 20 rupee (50 cent) auto-rickshaw ride through downtown Bangalore, glad to still be alive after a harrowing jaunt dangerously careening through hundreds of motorcycles and gargantuan city buses, he’ll question the safety standards and wonder aloud how people live past the age of 20. Then he’ll scribble in his notebook how there is no “downtown” with pretty buildings and new sidewalks, but instead just another typical sandy street crammed full of coffee shops and little storefronts, teeming with window shoppers nudging each other about while horns blare deafeningly over their chatter. He’ll finally declare Bangalore is simply a large village, not worthy of the title “city” and dither on about what changes he thinks should occur.
-------------------------
Having to reconcile these opposing views can be extremely aggravating, especially when you're actually trying to fit your life into the equation as well. I’ve gotten beyond most of the frustration, and now appreciate all the sides to the city while not getting caught up in one extreme viewpoint. The longer you stay here it begins to make sense, as hidden understandings are revealed as you learn the landscape.
Although... there are still moments where my eyes end up transfixed on extraordinary scenes, such as a posse of young urchins screaming/dancing/yelling/waving wildly to onlookers as they run with a multicolored rickety wooden cart of a neon Ganesha idol (a popular Hindi god resembling an elephant), throwing flowers and beating drums all over the street. Simultaneously, the glaringly emaciated cow who hangs outside my apartment complex munching on corn husks and newspaper no longer fazes me in the morning as I sprint across the street in high heels to catch the bus.
No doubt, in another month from now I’ll have completely new revelations and declare “Really, I’ve got it all figured out now!”… but until then... its good.
(Side Note. Last week a journalist and photographer from the San Jose Mercury News spent time with me and the other kids here - listening to our tales of how we all ended up here, played poker with us, and checked out out living quarters and work life. They seemed to want to dig deeper than other journalists in finding out what Bangalore is all about, and spent 2 exhausting weeks traversing the entire city, interviewing and meeting as many people as they could from all walks of life. Apparently, they got enough material for a 6-segment story, mainly focusing on NRI's (Non-Resident Indians) and Expats choosing to live in Bangalore. Should be interesting to read....)
Off to northern India for the long weekend – Dehli, Rajasthan and Jaisalmer. Exploring a big Indian city, catching a midnight train, then camel riding and folk dancing in the desert close to the Pakistan border. Be back with stories.
As I’m feeling more at home here in Bangalore, it’s amazing to look back on my first impressions of the city. In understanding what was so glaringly disturbing then- and yet barely recognize now - my western tendencies and expectations are perfectly outlined.
Oddly, the most frustrating obstacle began before I even began my misadventures in south Asia. The lack of coherent, correct representation Bangalore received in the international press rendered me lost on what to make of Bangalore before our first baffling encounter. The press, friends abroad, everybody either loved it or hated it.
Luckily I had a suspicion that remembering my observations when I first got here would be helpful down the road… so after spending the initial hectic 10 days exploring everything from grimy gridlocked traffic to fashionable 5 star hotels to getting lost in the neighborhoods on the outskirts of town, I had seen reasonable amount of the city. And fusing the detached experiences together in this new hometown of mine was a confusing challenge.
Thus, I was totally clueless, and recorded the subsequent confusion:
----------------------
A fragment from the first few weeks - "Meeting Stupefaction, Disorientation, and Chaos. Welcome to your new life in India.”
Where is the real Bangalore? On the dusty streets of this city’s scattered slums, on the immaculate, manicured gardens, of info tech companies, or stuck between crumpled government forms in a mountain of paperwork on a corrupt official’s desk?
After scouring through most of the media commentary on Bangalore wondering what the rest of the world thinks of this place, I’ve concluded that nobody actually has it right.
Not that I do either, but most pieces seem to be completely one-sided. Either a western journalist comes to Bangalore, visits the gorgeous IT companies expensive, lush campuses, has a personal army of attendants including chef, butler, driver, and is whisked in a A/C sedan from swanky hotel room to corporate board room but never takes the time to step out onto the crumbing sidewalk, getting that ubiquitous Bangalore dust/sand all over Kenneth Cole loafers, just to a glimpse of what real life is here.
Of course, this journalist sees the incredible promise of a nation filled with intelligent twenty-somethings hungry to use their vast knowledge in the global labor market, large IT consulting firms built up from nothing who are now securing multi-million dollar deals with American MNC’s, and a workforce asking for a fraction of the costs of industrialized nation’s labor. This writer will also make sure to mention the glittery, fully air-conditioned malls which sell Versace perfume next to a vast selection of international weekly news magazines, the preponderance of amenities catering to a westerner’s expat salary (as he recalls those ritzy bars in which he’s been enjoying a 2 buck top shelf whisky). He will then conclude that Bangalore is on the verge of greatness, wonderfully poised to take the world by storm.
The next day, I’ll read another article which takes the opposite stance, written by a journalist who cannot see past the underdevelopment of the city. Semi-exposed sewage drains, mangled dogs staggering across the streets, crowded rows of buildings with dangerously exposed electrical wiring are painfully blatant to the western eye. He’ll proclaim the city doesn’t stand a chance if the government is unable to efficiently upgrade the lagging road system and enforce pollution controls.
Then, as he jumps out of his 20 rupee (50 cent) auto-rickshaw ride through downtown Bangalore, glad to still be alive after a harrowing jaunt dangerously careening through hundreds of motorcycles and gargantuan city buses, he’ll question the safety standards and wonder aloud how people live past the age of 20. Then he’ll scribble in his notebook how there is no “downtown” with pretty buildings and new sidewalks, but instead just another typical sandy street crammed full of coffee shops and little storefronts, teeming with window shoppers nudging each other about while horns blare deafeningly over their chatter. He’ll finally declare Bangalore is simply a large village, not worthy of the title “city” and dither on about what changes he thinks should occur.
-------------------------
Having to reconcile these opposing views can be extremely aggravating, especially when you're actually trying to fit your life into the equation as well. I’ve gotten beyond most of the frustration, and now appreciate all the sides to the city while not getting caught up in one extreme viewpoint. The longer you stay here it begins to make sense, as hidden understandings are revealed as you learn the landscape.
Although... there are still moments where my eyes end up transfixed on extraordinary scenes, such as a posse of young urchins screaming/dancing/yelling/waving wildly to onlookers as they run with a multicolored rickety wooden cart of a neon Ganesha idol (a popular Hindi god resembling an elephant), throwing flowers and beating drums all over the street. Simultaneously, the glaringly emaciated cow who hangs outside my apartment complex munching on corn husks and newspaper no longer fazes me in the morning as I sprint across the street in high heels to catch the bus.
No doubt, in another month from now I’ll have completely new revelations and declare “Really, I’ve got it all figured out now!”… but until then... its good.
(Side Note. Last week a journalist and photographer from the San Jose Mercury News spent time with me and the other kids here - listening to our tales of how we all ended up here, played poker with us, and checked out out living quarters and work life. They seemed to want to dig deeper than other journalists in finding out what Bangalore is all about, and spent 2 exhausting weeks traversing the entire city, interviewing and meeting as many people as they could from all walks of life. Apparently, they got enough material for a 6-segment story, mainly focusing on NRI's (Non-Resident Indians) and Expats choosing to live in Bangalore. Should be interesting to read....)
Off to northern India for the long weekend – Dehli, Rajasthan and Jaisalmer. Exploring a big Indian city, catching a midnight train, then camel riding and folk dancing in the desert close to the Pakistan border. Be back with stories.
posted by Laura | 1:31 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home