Ugly American: party of one

In the cold winter nights of Rajasthan, wrapped in my overcoat and two layers of blankets, I have a recurring dream revolving around a deep-dish Chicago-style Gino’s East pizza. Having spent summers outside the United States, I can spot my “ugly American” symptoms, or “culture shock” to put it more nicely, from a mile away. Throughout the past three weeks in India, while negotiating cultural differences, I’ve run the emotional rainbow: elation, confusion, frustration, embarrassment and everything in between. I bifurcate between two extremes: the urge to romanticize this beautiful country and the desire to seek refuge in Udaipur Celebration Mall and eat McNuggets.

Upon our arrival to India at Delhi International Airport, my friend remarked that she felt a bit cliche studying abroad in India—a mixture of “Eat, Pray, Love” and “Stuff White People Like.” I googled it and even though I am Asian American, I am satisfying at least 10 “Stuff White People Like” items by studying abroad (#72 is study abroad). That is to say, I am keenly aware how foreign and ridiculous I seem at times, struggling to eat with my right hand as a lefthander, butchering Hindi words beyond recognition and generally losing my way and needing to ask for both geographic and cultural directions.

During my first week in Udaipur, fireworks streaked through the night’s sky as if welcoming me to the city. A wedding procession marched through the streets, complete with a groom atop a white horse adorned in sparkling fabrics. The drumming fueled my excitement and I was immediately infatuated with this side of India—the English-speaking tourist welcoming side. Two weeks into the program, however, I began to suspect India and I were better as “just friends.” My “ugly American” thoughts bubbled to the surface: “Why does no one have monetary change in this country? Why do all motor vehicles need to honk their horn when they are going 5mph and I am walking on the sidewalk? How can they eat so many chapattis for breakfast, lunch and dinner and not become diabetic or morbidly obese?” I couldn’t help laughing when a shopkeeper beckoned me into his shop saying “Will you give me the chance to make you very happy?” and my host father asked me if “I was feeling very homely” (he meant homey).

Perhaps the most effective cure to my “ugly Americanism” was a piece of humble pie delivered by my Indian student co-researcher/Hindi translator. As I boarded the back of her motorbike questioning “shale” (shall we go), she scolded me for learning only enough one-word Hindi expressions to shop and board transportation. This past week, to complete an urban inquiry, I walked with my Hindi translator down a slum area near my house where people sell their wares and live on the sidewalk. I do not wish to add another image of a homogenous third-world people to the mix, but a certain interview continues to weigh on me. “Khana” (food) is the phrase that one family selling flowers continued to say to me. Through my translator, the family said “You are a student from America, you have everything, and we have nothing.” When I asked if any of them had been educated, one girl replied “How can I be educated when I cannot afford to eat?” I then realized that my understanding of India had been filtered through conversations with those that could speak English, the most educated Indian people. I had let Hindi float above me, missing out on the most revealing meanings behind its poetry, music, conversations and everyday challenges.

I remember being told during DukeEngage Academy to resist the urge to fantasize about riding in on a white horse and saving the day. In all honesty, I am still processing this side of India and have not come to terms with its poverty or the number of hungry children. But I have found a treatment for my “ugly Americanism.” The repeated reminder that I have come to India to learn and better myself, and not as a tourist, is enough to humble me. It allows me to open my mind and heart to all sides of India and to find teachers and learning opportunities in unexpected and unfamiliar circumstances. Some criticize DukeEngage, suggesting that its students participate in glorified tourism and not service-learning. Although I doubt this is the case for the majority of students, I do believe some Dukies might find themselves frustrated with the way things are outside the U.S. One could weather the culture shock-low points over time. But instead of wasting moments in cultural isolation, I recommend trying to be a first rate student; learn and laugh rather than continuing to be a party of one.

Kristen Lee is a Trinity junior who is spending the Spring in Udaipur, India and Beijing, China through the Duke Global Semester Abroad Program. Her column runs every other Monday.