FAQs

One aspect of living overseas is that you are inevitably asked a fairly routine battery of questions both by the citizens and expats of your new home country and friends, family and other folks from whatever country you originally hail from. In all honesty, and as ashamed as I should feel by saying this, there comes with this a pretty sweet feeling; everyone likes feeling special and be the center of attention every now and again, and living abroad feeds that, coming and going.

Since I’m being honest here, I should also say that there are times in which I just don’t feel like answering questions or talking to people. I find this to be particularly true when I’m traveling places alone. Usually I just put in my headphones and try to disappear into the crowds, which can be a little challenging since I’m 6’3″, outrageously white, skinny to the point of emaciation, and usually pair my ginormous forehead (my brothers call it the “fivehead”) with an absurd, ginger-flecked, walrus-esque mustache. I stand out.

I’ve always liked having time alone, and totally to myself. I guess that’s a side-effect of being fifth of six children: you learn to seek out and cherish times on your own. That’s not to say I’m always like that. More often than not I love mixing it up and getting weird with total strangers. That’s kind of the point of being overseas. You get to mingle with folks living in a totally different context of your own and see that, for all the differences, people are fundamentally the same. Everyone likes to have fun and being able to do so over here with new and awesome people has been rewarding beyond all expectations.

It is usually on my solo trips, which tend to be to off-the-beaten path places that don’t see too many tourists, that I get the first-degree from folks. A lot of this is more for the opportunity to practice English with a native speaker than anything else, but you also see that genuine curiosity and amazement in some people’s reactions to seeing a foreigner that is awesome; it’s often a much-needed reminder at just how far from home you’ve found yourself, and how special your life in that time and place truly is.

I was considering just adding a page to this site with FAQs, and may do that still, but figured I’d write them out in a post first, just for kicks. I broke these bad boys out by questions asked by those here in India and those commonly heard back in the States.

India FAQs

1. Which country are you from?

I am from the U.S., hailing from a small, but awesome, little town of around 4,000 people called Allegany, which is due south of Buffalo, NY near the Pennsylvania border.

I also lived in New Jersey, Washington DC, Virginia, and Montana.

2. Why are you in India?

The easy answer here is that I came to India for a job, and that’s what I usually just stick with. The more complete truth is that I came here as an act of perverse penance and in a misguided attempt to prove to myself and others that I am more than just the self-absorbed, cynical douche I had long shown myself to be. I wanted to change, but also to “suffer”, and India presented the perfect opportunity to do both as the job presented a chance to do something positive in the world (i.e., work on development projects, specifically in urban slum sanitation) and, having already visited the subcontinent, I knew that I did not like it here. At all. In fact, I would say India was my least favorite country by a wide margin before moving here. After nearly two years living and working here, I’m not sure that it’s moved too far from that spot, if at all.

What’s truly remarkable is that part of me believed that moving here and accomplishing both goals (e.g., change and suffering), would show someone that I loved and lost due to my own shortcomings as a person that I finally grew up, finally became the person I needed to be. As though abandoning a person and running away to the other side of the world is indicative of positive change and maturity. It took a bit of time for me to realize just how idiotic and myopic this line of thinking truly is, but that realization came too late to be of any benefit. Alas, perhaps making these changes will be of a modicum of comfort for the heaps of damage I’ve done. I hope so, at least; some nights it’s this thought alone that helps me to sleep.

3. What do you think of India?

Oof. Talk about a loaded question, since it’s typically asked with the supposition that since I am living here I must love it here. I will say that I have grown to love certain parts of India and aspects of life here, but whether or not the list favors the “pros” or “cons” or even breaks even is very much debatable; the answer really depends on when you ask the question, and can vary greatly day to day, or even hour to hour.

There’s a lot to love here, truly. The food is amazing, the county is steeped in history, and its sheer size provides a diversity in geography that affords one access to mountains, deserts, jungles, beaches, and everything in between.

There’s also a whole lot to dislike about India. The cities are bursting at the seams they’re so crowded, the weather can be absolutely obnoxious (i.e., summer temps in the high 120s; winter in the low 30s), and the pervasive “me first” attitude rears its ugly head in virtually all contexts, from traffic patterns to the treatment of hired help.

This all said, my usual answer is that I love India and think it’s wonderful. God save my soul for eschewing the truth.

4. Are you married? Do you have kids?

No, and no. (This usually prompts one or both of the following follow-up questions: How old are you?, and Are you gay? The answers to that are 36 and no, though I have absolutely no problems with anyone based solely on their orientation).

This one really blows people’s minds as the average marrying age here is around 25 (though there is a direct correlation between socioeconomic status and age of marriage; the lower down the ladder you are, the younger you get married). That and arranged marriages are still far more common than love marriages. It is this question that probably bothers me the most as, truth be told, I wish I was married and had children, but I blew the opportunity to have this in my life and it can be difficult for me to talk about. People also seem to get stuck on this point, finding it that difficult to digest. Maybe one day I’ll “settle down” and get married, but at this point, I sincerely doubt it.

5. Do you speak Hindi?

Main hindee naheen boltaa lekin main seekh rahaa hoon. (I don’t speak Hindi but I am learning). I didn’t even know how to say this, actually; I Googled it. I’m so ashamed.

I do not speak Hindi, at all. I know a handful of words (mostly names of various food items) and some just outrageously inappropriate phrases that I’ll not repeat here. Oddly enough, I find more and more that I can understand the gist of what’s being said, even without knowing the specific words. This is largely due to the fact that my friends and colleagues speak a bit of Hindenglish, switching between English and Hindi often in the same sentence. One of the most endearing experiences of my time here (if not life) came just a few weeks ago in Goa, when my colleague and friend Ayush’s nearly two-year-old daughter took to teaching me some Hindi words, including the term Mamoo (sp?) which she took to calling me, unprompted, and is what children call their eldest maternal uncle.

I keep saying that I want to learn, and will learn, more of the language, but have made no real efforts to do so largely because I just lack an aptitude for language and the uncertainty of my time left in this country. I’d be lying if I didn’t say there’s more than a little bit of laziness built into it as well.

American FAQs

1. What is India like?

This one is super easy to answer: imagine the complete opposite of everything you’ve experienced and come to accept as the standard way of doing things, and that’s India.

Let’s stick with the low-hanging fruit here: Toilet paper is viewed as disgusting, for the most part. Showers are less common than using a bucket and a pitcher to bathe. (Incidentally, if you’re an American or other “Westerner”, have you ever taken a cold shower? If I count on both hands the number of hot showers I’ve taken during my time in India, there’d be fingers left unused. Try taking a cold bath every day for months on end; it’s exquisite). It’s common to eat with your hands and, for some, it’s consider respectful to belch after a meal as it indicates your satisfaction. Public displays of affection are absolutely taboo, unless it’s between same-sex friends; men will hold hands with each other, yet the county is considering making homosexuality illegal. India leads the world in both number of slaves (14 million) and those forced to open-defecate due to a lack of toilets (~630 million). The climate is just brutal, unless you’re in the San Diego-esque Bangalore, with extreme heat and cold. On the road, you will hear honking every second of every day, without fail, as there is no rule that supersedes “me first”.

These are just some of the most overt examples of the differences, though. India’s remarkable in that I’ve never felt so embraced and loved by friends and colleagues, while also feeling totally exploited by everyone else. One friend told me that there are just too many people in India to care about everyone. You effectively have to choose whom to love and appreciate and anyone outside this group simply ceases to exist. It’s this logic that leads to so many of the social problems affecting India, whether it be sanitation, pervasive and massive urban slums, or violent crimes against women and children. It’s like you take care of your own and prey on everyone else. One of the most disturbing examples of this is watching how some of my friends treat the hired help; if you’re lower class, you are nothing.

I could go on and on with this one, but the simplest answer is to say that I’ve never visited or lived in a country that is more challenging in every regard and in every day. I’m not even kidding when I tell you there are days I do not leave the house simply because I can’t deal with it. Other times, though, I love mixing it up and getting weird with strangers. It’s truly an exercise in patience and perseverance, and makes me question myself more than my surroundings: am I really this negative and pessimistic, this incapable of overcoming challenges?

2. What is the food like? (With the ubiquitous follow-up: Do you have diarrhea all the time?)

Before I came here I was totally indifferent to Indian cuisine, with my exposure limited to the Americanized standards of chicken tikka masala and naan bread. It’s akin to saying you don’t like Italian food after eating a slice of Sbarro pizza. Now, I eat the crap out of everything Indian and even find I crave certain dishes when I’m away. The food is amazing and, contrary to popular belief, not everything is spicy.

I used to be a real tentative when it came to food, always opting for plain options and those I knew I liked. Following college and my first forays into traveling abroad, a switch was flipped and I now consider myself a rather adventurous eater, having dined on such delicacies as cobra blood, tarantulas, scorpions, cockroaches, frogs, fertilized duck fetuses, pig tongues, chicken feet, and on and on. There aren’t so many bizarre food offerings here, but I will say that you need to suspend some level of comfort and dive right in to enjoy the cuisine to its fullest. Don’t be afraid to order something you cannot pronounce and don’t know what it is. For the most part it’ll be delicious.

In regards to getting “loosies” (as diarrhea is often referred to here), that is an unfortunate part of life no matter where you are when living abroad. Your body just isn’t exposed to the same germs and such in your home country than it is abroad. For the most part, it’s not even the food that gets you, it’s the water, and that’s especially true in India. In Delhi, there’s a nice little affliction called Delhi Belly that most, if not all, people encounter: it’s that wonderful experience of having explosive diarrhea while simultaneously vomiting. (The simultaneous part is especially important; purists will disavow any claims to Delhi Belly should these actions take place independent of each other).

I think my time in Cambodia really helped me, though, as my stomach ailments have not nearly been as bad as what some of my friends have had to endure. I eat street food all the time and really like grimy restaurants that you don’t find in travel guides. All this being said, I have had to go to the hospital on a few occasions for gastroenteritis. C’est la vie.

3. Are you having a mid-life crisis?

Hmm, maybe, though I hope I live more than just another 36 years. I was talking to this woman from Yale University about moving overseas and she put it far more succinctly than I ever could, saying that I acknowledged the finite nature of life and am doing the most with the time I have in an effort to avoid regretting not doing so when I’m older and the opportunity is no longer there. I like that. It makes what I’m doing sound far more well thought out than it really is.

4. Why do Indian people smell so bad?

Shut up you ignorant turd.

5. How long will you stay in India? Where to next?

I have no idea whatsoever. I have the final interview (the Oral Assessment, giggity) for the U.S. Foreign Service in February and, should I be accepted, that will ensure that the rest of my professional career will be spent overseas, spending two-years at different embassies or consulates all over the world. Should I fail to get into that, I’ll return here for a bit, but likely not spend more than half of 2014 in India. If I could cherry-pick where I go next, either in the foreign service or with another organization, my top “safe” choices would be: Indonesia, Rwanda, Nicaragua, or back to Cambodia; my “dangerous” choices would be: Central African Republic, Yemen, South Sudan, and Pakistan.

In the interest of complete transparency, I have put myself in an impossible situation. I gave away or sold everything I owned, save for a few bags worth of clothing, and spent all of my savings during my time abroad. I literally cannot afford to return to the States. Part of me thinks this is for the best, as it removes the potential for me to run away. Another part of me has anxiety attacks over this because, well, it’s pretty scary being trapped on the other side of the world. I keep trying to convince myself that this means I’m always moving forward and it removes the potential for seeking a return to the life I once had. The only problem with this is that moving forward means moving on, and I’m still stuck in this weird limbo between enjoying the vibrancy of what the future holds and yearning for what the past holds. C’est la vie, though; onward and upward and let the chips fall where they may.

Originally published at kevinshane.me on December 21, 2013.