Boo for Colonialism!
Okay, I have to admit that my Indian history isn't great, and my American isn't much better, but I feel fairly certain that it was the Brits, not the Americans, who colonized this great country (well, Portugal had Goa). For example, they write “centre” and “theatre,” which we OBVIOUSLY wouldn't have taught them! However, there is quite the race-based colonialist dynamic here, to an extent far surpassing anything I expected.
And I certainly expected something. Before the trip, Sharan bluntly informed me that my white skin would lose me credibility in the NGO community (“Why is an outsider coming in to tell us how to run our organizations?”), but would help open doors within the bureaucracy. She was convinced that, for example, at meetings with prison officials, all of the discussion would be directed towards me. However, she was willing to use this to our advantage, and I didn't begrudge her that – as the only white person in a group of south Asians, I figured I must have SOME benefit! (And as it turns out, our group was joined by Mike, the Program's communications guru, and I stopped being the token white person – we are now a significant minority!)
My time in Goa didn't really expose me to any of these strange dynamics, however, which made me somewhat comfortable in the idea that maybe they weren't as pronounced as Sharan was thinking. While Neema teased me about it all the time – she was pushing the luggage cart in the airport, having VOLUNTEERED to do so, and then chastised me because “brown people don't have to carry your luggage anymore” - it was all in good fun and without real significance.
Mumbai, however, has made me think of this in an entirely different light. Only a day after my arrival, there have been two BLATANT signs that the colonization's effects are still alive and well these days.
The first, I've already described – the incident in the taxi. When we told Sharan what had happened, she too was astounded - “That NEVER happens here!” - but was also confident that it had, inadvertently, been my fault. In fact, the second thing she said, after that quoted above, was that the driver of the SUV had obviously done it because he'd seen there was a white person (me) in the taxi and was hoping for money. (And it almost worked – Currun started digging out money as the SUV guy walked off, for when he came back, although I don't know if this was a preventative measure or because the SUV driver had demanded payment.)
Which is to say, I got a poor taxi driver beaten up. I mean, I'm sure the taxi driver felt worse than me, but that still doesn't exactly sit easy with me.
The second incident occurred this morning, and Sharan seemed to find it amusing, but it definitely rubbed me (and possibly Mike, who looked a bit uncomfortable) the wrong way. We went to the golf club for breakfast, but the dining room is closed Monday, so we had to eat in the lounge downstairs. We all ordered omelets and toast, and breakfast wasn't long in coming. But oddly enough, at first the waiter only brought out two meals – mine and Mike's.
This is strange mainly because there is NO WAY that this had happened accidentally – Mike ordered the same omelet as Sharan, but after she'd ordered it, and I followed Currun with an order identical to his. Thus, the plates COULD have come out in order, which meant Currun got the first tomato/cheese omelet, and Sharan got her cheese one, OR they could have come out with like omelets together (for example, serving me and Currun at the same time) – assuming our meals weren't all cooked at the same time, those are the only legitimate serving patterns. And if our meals WERE all cooked at the same time, there was no reason to bring out just two at the beginning – after about 5 minutes, the waiter carried out all four of the remaining meals in one armload.
All of this is to say that there's no way that the serving of the two white people before anyone else was ANYTHING but race-based. Sharan was the first to notice and, as mentioned, found it hysterical – they all insisted that we go ahead and eat, because cold omelets can be pretty nasty. Mike and I, however, agreed that it was awkward enough to get SERVED first – we certainly weren't going to encourage the waiters to keep up that approach by eating first as well.
I knew that I would stand out as a white person, and expected the gawking as I walk down the street that was so common in Cairo. Honestly, though, this is a race dynamic that I've never experienced, and that I NEVER expected. Neema made another colonialism joke today, and I found myself unable to deal with what was obviously good-natured teasing and nothing more. Hopefully, I either develop a thicker skin or stop having such experiences, but I feel like two in less than 24 hours isn't a good start at all ...
And I certainly expected something. Before the trip, Sharan bluntly informed me that my white skin would lose me credibility in the NGO community (“Why is an outsider coming in to tell us how to run our organizations?”), but would help open doors within the bureaucracy. She was convinced that, for example, at meetings with prison officials, all of the discussion would be directed towards me. However, she was willing to use this to our advantage, and I didn't begrudge her that – as the only white person in a group of south Asians, I figured I must have SOME benefit! (And as it turns out, our group was joined by Mike, the Program's communications guru, and I stopped being the token white person – we are now a significant minority!)
My time in Goa didn't really expose me to any of these strange dynamics, however, which made me somewhat comfortable in the idea that maybe they weren't as pronounced as Sharan was thinking. While Neema teased me about it all the time – she was pushing the luggage cart in the airport, having VOLUNTEERED to do so, and then chastised me because “brown people don't have to carry your luggage anymore” - it was all in good fun and without real significance.
Mumbai, however, has made me think of this in an entirely different light. Only a day after my arrival, there have been two BLATANT signs that the colonization's effects are still alive and well these days.
The first, I've already described – the incident in the taxi. When we told Sharan what had happened, she too was astounded - “That NEVER happens here!” - but was also confident that it had, inadvertently, been my fault. In fact, the second thing she said, after that quoted above, was that the driver of the SUV had obviously done it because he'd seen there was a white person (me) in the taxi and was hoping for money. (And it almost worked – Currun started digging out money as the SUV guy walked off, for when he came back, although I don't know if this was a preventative measure or because the SUV driver had demanded payment.)
Which is to say, I got a poor taxi driver beaten up. I mean, I'm sure the taxi driver felt worse than me, but that still doesn't exactly sit easy with me.
The second incident occurred this morning, and Sharan seemed to find it amusing, but it definitely rubbed me (and possibly Mike, who looked a bit uncomfortable) the wrong way. We went to the golf club for breakfast, but the dining room is closed Monday, so we had to eat in the lounge downstairs. We all ordered omelets and toast, and breakfast wasn't long in coming. But oddly enough, at first the waiter only brought out two meals – mine and Mike's.
This is strange mainly because there is NO WAY that this had happened accidentally – Mike ordered the same omelet as Sharan, but after she'd ordered it, and I followed Currun with an order identical to his. Thus, the plates COULD have come out in order, which meant Currun got the first tomato/cheese omelet, and Sharan got her cheese one, OR they could have come out with like omelets together (for example, serving me and Currun at the same time) – assuming our meals weren't all cooked at the same time, those are the only legitimate serving patterns. And if our meals WERE all cooked at the same time, there was no reason to bring out just two at the beginning – after about 5 minutes, the waiter carried out all four of the remaining meals in one armload.
All of this is to say that there's no way that the serving of the two white people before anyone else was ANYTHING but race-based. Sharan was the first to notice and, as mentioned, found it hysterical – they all insisted that we go ahead and eat, because cold omelets can be pretty nasty. Mike and I, however, agreed that it was awkward enough to get SERVED first – we certainly weren't going to encourage the waiters to keep up that approach by eating first as well.
I knew that I would stand out as a white person, and expected the gawking as I walk down the street that was so common in Cairo. Honestly, though, this is a race dynamic that I've never experienced, and that I NEVER expected. Neema made another colonialism joke today, and I found myself unable to deal with what was obviously good-natured teasing and nothing more. Hopefully, I either develop a thicker skin or stop having such experiences, but I feel like two in less than 24 hours isn't a good start at all ...
posted by Teale at 2:47 AM
2 Comments:
I got bored with memo writing and decided to peruse your blog. Interesting stuff. I'm planning a trip to Mumbai in the summer, and I'm fascinated by your description of the lingering vestiges of colonialism. I haven't been in India since I was 4, so I don't remember much of that.
Seems like you're stuck taking the good with the bad. Although, I can see why the excessive deference to your skin color makes you uncomfortable, but on the flip side at least that attitude encourages people to do things for you.
You better develop a thick skin, because Neema definitely wont let up with her teasing. ;
Good LORD, Ye Allah, Ye Bhagwan, T., your blogs make you sound like someone who had never taken a, say, world literature course on, say, colonialism and its pernicious effects (400 years of "white" presence is not so easily erased). You should definitely check out V. S. Naipaul's books--all of 'em. Yup. All of 'em. At the very least reading them will be time spent away from getting suckered into rice scams by children.
I am enjoying your blog--sorry I haven't posted any comments until now, even though you specifically have allowed Anons to post because I don't know my way around a computer--being a brown person and all. Wait...I think brown people invented computers. And please send me your bank account number so I can send you 49 million dollars I have stuck in Nigeria.
Oi, I still think you Western peeps need to get over your India-fetish and venture out into Bangladesh, or some such random nation. (Ah, enough with the inside jokes).
Love ya lots, freak. Come back safely, with some 24K gold earrings for me. Please?
-Dali
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