Georgetown University’s Newspaper of Record since 1920

The Hoya

Georgetown University’s Newspaper of Record since 1920

The Hoya

Georgetown University’s Newspaper of Record since 1920

The Hoya

Pune, India

ALEXANDER BROWN/THE HOYA
ALEXANDER BROWN/THE HOYA

I was convinced that I knew what I was getting myself into when I stepped aboard the flight to Mumbai back in August for a semester in Pune, India. But with what I now realize was a limited exposure to Indian culture, how prepared could I really be?

Getting on the plane, I envisioned that I was headed to a semester that would include classes with yoga masters, lavish Punjabi weddings, copious elephants and multiple visits to the Taj Mahal.

ALEXANDER BROWN/THE HOYA
ALEXANDER BROWN/THE HOYA

Now, with classes concluded, my internship underway and less than five weeks remaining, I have not taken a yoga class, crashed a wedding or seen a single elephant. Studying in India has been nothing like I could have predicted, and yet it has managed to affect me more than anything I have ever done.

Day to day, I stick out in Pune. I’m 6 foot 3 inches — taller than the average Indian man — and so far, my tally of photo requests stands at 31. I don’t know how I’ll cope with the lack of attention back home.

Another aspect I did not anticipate is the pollution. Hundreds of buses and autorickshaws belch black exhaust, and trash burning is common as a result of inadequate public trash-disposal services. Roughly half of Indian households lack a functioning toilet. I’ve also gotten used to the multi-day process of doing laundry as well as the intense humidity and mosquitoes.

But there’s clearly more to India than the differences in public sanitation. Several Indian host families and friends have shown their generosity. A friend’s host-mother taught me henna while filling me to the brim with endless chai and samosas. My professors have offered to take us out to brunch now that classes are finished, and our security guard has invited us to eat at his food-cart side business. The level of positive energy and hospitality in India is incredible.

ALEXANDER BROWN/THE HOYA
ALEXANDER BROWN/THE HOYA

On the other hand, I have experienced times when attitudes toward foreigners appear less charitable. Rickshaw drivers are not required to take you to your desired destination, and they regularly disobey laws requiring the use of meters. I have been cheated multiple times and preyed upon by countless pickpockets. Studying here has exposed me to a level of extremity in interpersonal interaction that I seldom see stateside.

Naturally, there have definitely been tourist moments that I cannot discount. I stood atop the Charminar in Hyderabad, rode a camel in the Rajasthan desert, dipped a finger in the  Ganges in Varanasi and swam in the Arabian Sea in Goa. But when I look back on these few short months, none of those moments seem to matter as much as crossing the street daily, the uselessness of my left hand at meals— which is considered dirty in Indian culture — or the inability to drink water from the tap. I expected certain large, shell-shocking differences between India and the United States, but it’s been the small differences in everyday conventions that will leave the greatest impression when I fly out of Mumbai.

I have been asked many times by Indians and Americans alike why I came to India. It has taken time to formulate an answer, one that I did not have when I applied last winter and still didn’t know when I boarded the plan from Newark, N.J., to Mumbai three months ago.

Back in September, several friends and I travelled to Mumbai for a concert featuring two-thirds of the now defunct Swedish House Mafia. They paused between songs, and one of the two spoke into the mic to answer their question and my own, “We came to India to leave the rest of the world behind.”

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