Lost in Translation

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It would be a shame to think that I understand Delhi. It would be a greater shame to think that I understand India. Were I to think this, I would miss out on all the wonderful things I’ve learned.
The last few days, and indeed weeks, I have been trying to see everything in Delhi worth seeing, and to return to the places I found bearable. I’ve tried to eat at all the best places one more time, and all the while, I have tried to pack up. It’s hard for me to imagine that I made this place home for half a year, and I am only really reminded when I search under the bed for lost socks. I leave for China on Tuesday, and it has rather snuck up on me. In four days, I will be on a flight to Beijing. After China, I return to Delhi, briefly, to meet my sister, and from there I will travel to Sri Lanka. After a few days’ layover in Taiwan, I will be back in San Francisco, eating a burrito in the Mission and catching up on all the beatings the Raiders have taken while I was away.
Now that my time in India is at an end, it seemed necessary for me to have an epiphany. I don’t have one. The closest thing came during my last Indian literature class.
The class was wonderful, a treat that us Americans were lucky enough to have. Not only did we have a brilliant professor, extremely knowledgable in world literature and highly respected in the field, but also we were the recipients of a custom-made class, tailor-made to suit our needs and desires. Along with my Indian art history class, I felt that I had learned a great deal regarding Indian society, culture, and history.
During our last literature class, we read a very popular Indian novel named, “The Inscrutable Americans.” It tells the story of an Indian college student who travels to America to spend a year abroad, all the time observing the customs and attitudes of the “inscrutable Americans.” Though written by an Indian author, Anurag Mathur, the book is written in English. Despite this, the novel has quietly remained an Indian bestseller for almost twenty years. The novel is being translated into Hindi for the first time, and our professor had the translator come and listen to our discussion of the book, and then discuss the difficulties of translating a book from English to Hindi.
Though we claim to speak English, Americans have a vast array of slang, idioms, improper grammar usage, and accents that must be truly tantalizing for those trying to learn English. One of the greatest difficulties in translating, our guest told us, was finding a way to put these idioms into Hindi. For instance, how does one translate the difficulties of an Indian man trying to speak in English, and more than that, American slang, and failing to comic effect? How does one translate the subtle humor of cultural differences, as described from an American perspective? How does one translate the phrase, “keep it real”? These are the issues one must deal with while translating a work of fiction. The reality is that there is now way to convey the same book in another language. Robert Frost once said (according to my professor), “Poetry is that which is lost in translation.” How can we ever expect to fully understand a culture when we are not experts in the language? Even then, how can we expect to understand the language when we have not grown up in the country in which it is used? Languages grow as nations do. But there is a flip-side to Frost’s quote, something our professor, Professor Trivedi, made sure we realized. Though a work of literature may be lost in its translation, a whole new work is gained. A translation is better than no translation.
And so, I have tried to translate India into American, just as all of the other students on my program have, and just as every exchange student has done. I undoubtedly have failed. This is because all I have of India is my perspective. What I see, hear, smell, taste, and touch. From these senses, I develop a feeling about India. This, for better or worse, is how India exists for me. Now, even when someone wonders why, in India, there is a caste system, I may not know the exact answer. But I at least know a little, and I have my own feeling to weigh it against.
Caste is considered a repressive, even backwards system by Americans. Yet it is also a system that utilizes every member of society. Every caste interacts with one another. Every caste has a role, even the untouchables. Thus, every caste is just as valued as the next. Can we say the same thing about America? Are janitors just as valued as doctors? And is a family of doctors not a higher caste than a family who lives in government projects? Don’t the doctor’s children have a better chance at an education than the children living in the projects? Do the children in the projects feel like they belong anywhere? Of course, such ideals in a system as controversial as the caste system eventually become distorted. But at one time or another, the caste system was not controversial. And I can see why. By the same token, at one time American capitalism left those out-competed to die in the streets. Some would say it still does. Now, at least, I can sympathize with the Indian caste system while I criticize it.
I guess that all I am trying to say is that every country is the same as the next. Each is a collection of people trying to live together. Their cultures have changed over time, shaped by past relationships, geography, resources, and leaders. But they are all still fundamentally the same. There is only the perception of that nation by which to truly judge it, a perception that changes over cultural and individual boundaries. I wonder if President Nixon would have firebombed Vietnam and Cambodia if he had toured the villages first, seeing the faces he was about to destroy.
So all I have a perception a perception that I’ll share with you. It is a perception that, nonetheless, should not be taken for fact and is, like all perceptions, biased. So I urge you to make your own perception: travel, read, speak with Indians, go eat some chicken curry. I may have hated the metro, but someone else probably loves it. Someone else probably loves getting shoved into the back by a wave of people, jammed against an iron pole while a little child is trampled, and… just kidding.
Now, I guess, I will do the same thing many of my friends on the program have already done: compile a list of a few things that I will miss and not miss about India, all the while pretending that India gives a shit. But hey, it’s my own perspective. In that sense, I’m entitled to my own little chunk of India. A very little chunk.

WILL MISS: Cows. They are everywhere, and they have grown on me. Yes, they aren’t exactly cute and cuddly, and most have a sizeable smear of fecal matter on their backside. They stand in the middle of busy intersections without any respect for the laws of man. And they smell horrible. I have no idea why they are everywhere. I do know that they tend to migrate. For instance, a friend of mine lives in Model, about a ten-minute auto rickshaw ride from Mukherjee Nagar, and he claims that in the morning, there are no cows to be found, and by mid-afternoon, the street is literally crowded with cows. But I will miss the comic effects of trying to push a cow away from a vegetable cart as it munches. I will miss hearing them moo as a dog chases after it, nipping its tail. I will miss watching it lower its head and slowly plow through a crowd of people, just to spite them. I will not miss the smell, though. I will get enough of that in Davis.

WILL NOT MISS: The Delhi metro. The metro really came to represent all that I hate about Delhi. I hated watching men sit in seats as a weary woman stands right in front of them. I hated watching their faces as they decided whether or not to be a gentleman, and ultimately pretend to fall asleep. I hated listening to the message being played over the intercom, to remember to please reserve seats for ladies. Then I would look at the sign above the seats that say, please reserve seats for ladies. Then I would look at the seats and see that every one was occupied by a man, while women stood and waited. This is, of course, after I watch men constantly standing around smoking beedis while women are toiling without complaint. In addition to the death of chivalry, though, I hated being pushed back into the metro as I tried to exit by a mob of people entering. There is a simple rule of… science for God’s sakes. When an object is removed from a container, there allows more room inside the container, which can be taken by another object. Apparently, this is not a well-known concept in India.

WILL MISS: Parks. Indians love to walk, sit, and play in public spaces. It’s what they do. I will miss seeing men stroll through Purana Qila, debating. I will miss seeing families picnicking in Lodi Gardens. I will miss seeing groups of deaf people sitting in circles at the Rajpath, communicating happily in sign language. Sometimes the parks are very beautiful, green and shady and studden with ancient monuments. But other times, they are overgrown, poorly maintained, and not very pleasant. Yet they are always full of Indians. I think that Americans don’t spend enough time strolling and hanging out in parks. Maybe we’re too lazy. Or maybe we don’t like to share our leisure time with thousands of other people doing the same thing. The latter seems more likely, but I wonder why not?

WILL NOT MISS: Indian food. I cannot say how many reminded me how lucky I was to eat Indian food whenever I wanted. What this really entailed, however, was eating Indian food every day. At every meal. This is not entirely accurate, because I would often eat fruit, or cereal, or poor attempts at American food. But besides the fruit, the food never tasted fresh. It was always slopped in butter or oil, and always piping hot. This probably had something to do with the fact that I was always eating out, and the fact that finding a sandwich or a salad in Delhi was harder than finding a pigeon in your cabinet drawer. At the end of my time in India, I can’t think of anything better over which to reflect upon my time then a plump avocado.

WILL MISS: Watching Indians struggle to board an escalator. Apparently, escalators are new for many Indians, and so are regarded with deep suspicion. My only join in riding the metro is watching a man in a dhoti jump quiver in apprehension, then jump onto the first step while it is still flat, then frantically position his feet while it ascends into a fully formed step.

WILL NOT MISS: Monkeys. Monkeys are really not that cool. They mock people as they pass, try to intimidate them, reach for their bags, steal food from houses, and have very unfortunate-looking red bottoms. I guess that it’s all just payback, however. Wear else can they live if Indian cities and agriculture have slowly expanded into every section of the Indian countryside?

WILL MISS: Shared auto-rickshaw rides. The travel books list sharing hostels as a great way to meet people. I disagree. I would much rather suffer together with an Indian in a rickshaw and share a knowing look of exasperation, then recount a travel story to a dread-locked European on their way to Varanasi. After all, I’ve seen eight people fit into a tiny rickshaw as it put-puts down the street, swerving around cows and potholes, with bags and arms flying out the side. If that isn’t getting to know someone, I don’t know what is. It’s getting to know someone without even speaking.

WILL NOT MISS: Stray dogs. I had a real problem trying to deal with the cruelty shown towards dogs, and the indifference with which their rampant over-population is treated. Almost every dog I met was a sweetheart, and would stand shaking as I passed, unsure whether or not to approach to be petted. In the end, I would usually relent, and the dog would trot happily towards me, wagging its tail. I often thought of taking home one of the puppies I would find under a parked car, believing I could save it from a life of misery. I was once chastised for being too nice to the dogs, something I don’t understand. I guess that when there are people who live like dogs, the value of a dog’s life must be reduced. If only there were people who showed as much compassion and loyalty as a dog. I am also reminded, however, of all the times I have seen the same people, those who treat dogs with such terrible distance, put chapatti outside of their door for the dogs.

WILL MISS: Indian music. It’s such a common thread throughout society, loved by old and young alike. It can be hard all over, in places of worship, in taxis, on cell phones. There is no comparable music in the United States, a kind of music that everyone seems to appreciate and even celebrate. To me, it seems to be a celebration of India’s long and eventful history, through which its culture has persisted. There is pride in America, but it is lumped as patriotism, and used as a loyalty test. There’s no joy in patriotism: only duty.

WILL NOT MISS: Being away from home. I learned that independent travel can be rewarding, but after awhile, it is only meaningful if shared with loved ones.

So that’s it. These are just a few things, and I’m sure I will remember more frustrations or joys when I am away from the computer. But more than anything, India was an educational experience in the same way that all travel is. I was put out of my comfort level and allowed to test myself. Above all, I was able to witness a culture some find very foreign, even exotic. The greatest thing that I will take away will be the knowledge that India is in no way exotic. It’s just a place in which people try to live. After seeing the choices made in Indian society, and witnessing aspects with which I either agree or disagree, I have come to understand my own country better. This is not something I expected. I thought I would be disillusioned with America or distant in some way. But I’m not. I just want to get back and live.
Anyways, I will maybe update my blog while I am in China, but probably won’t have time. If you want to see, I have all of my pictures posted on my Flickr account. Thanks everyone for reading, and I will see you all when I get back!
If I have time before I leave for China (or after I return), I will try to post a list of some of my favorite places in India, as well as some useful information about travel, just in case anyone is planning on going to India soon. If anyone has logistical questions, let me know, and I will try to help you out with what I’ve found while traveling.

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Comments

[Lisa Mahoney]

Can't Wait to See You
Ronny, I have so enjoyed reading your thoughtful and detailed blog entries. What a life-changing experience you have had in India. That happened because you were so willing to take in all that the country and its people had to offer and allow yourself to be vulnerable to the varied emotions that resulted. I know that you have grown in immeasurable ways during the past six months. "The Fam" can't wait to have you back in the fold. And I know Jessy is so looking forward to coming to see you and exploring with you. XXXXOOO Mama Ho