Outsiders

I give the bus conductor 10 rupees, expecting 5 back. I take this bus to work every day and the fee is usually 5. Today the bus conductor gives me 3 rupees back. 2 rupees is worth 5 cents in the US but I know he’s doing this because I’m a foreigner; he’s trying to see how much he can get away with. I berate him about my fee until he finally smiles and gives me the correct change. When I get off the bus, he smiles again. “Seven rupees,” he insists. “Five,” I reply, annoyed, and walk off.

Call me nitpicky, but it’s the principle that I don’t agree with. There is a foreigner price and a local price here, and after a while that wears down on me. I’m tired of being treated differently as a foreigner: either I’m a celebrity and people are fawning over me or I’m a gullible stranger who doesn’t speak Hindi whom people can take advantage of and laugh at. When people laugh at me, are they laughing spitefully or amusedly? I can’t tell; that bothers me.

I understand that I can’t change the fact that I look and act differently here. I also understand that it’s human nature to exert power over the more vulnerable. That still doesn’t mean I should be satisfied with the way I am being treated. I’m glad I’m learning to assert myself more but I want to do this in a way that still loves the people I meet. I feel that coming to India has made me less touchy-feely, more in tune with the harsh realities of human relationships. If someone is trying to cut in front of me I don’t have any qualms blocking his way, but I know I can get frustrated and push him away as well. That’s not loving at all.

As for people laughing at me, I also laugh at crazy things Indians do as well. There is no malice involved in that; I just find things amusing here. Maybe that’s the same case for Indians who observe me. It’s just so hard to interpret a different culture without knowing the language.