India has great things to offer to all sorts of individuals hailing from all kind of backgrounds, ethinicity and demographics. In this series of #IndianExperiences, we are sharing experiences of 5 foreigners who came to India as tourists, but settled in the country forever. All these experiences are narrated by the foreigners themselves on Quora.
1. Lydia Wallis, Lived in New Delhi, India, as an American expat (This first appeared here)
I lived in New Delhi, India, from 2012–2015. I think my experience can be summed up into three words: unexpected, discombobulating, and maturing.
Unexpected: When my parents first told me that we were moving to New Delhi, India, I was eight and never read the news, didn’t read much nonfiction, and hadn’t really talked about India before. Sure, I knew it was a country far away, there were many people living there, and it was very poor. That was about the extent of my knowledge. I had thought that it was a vast desert, like Africa, and that we might have to live in huts when we got there. And wear saris and eat a ton of spicy food. Imagine my disbelief when I hopped off of the airplane, after a 14 hour ride, I might add, and saw a bustling city. When we arrive it was at night, and I was very tired, so on the taxi ride home I wasn’t looking at the windows or trying particularly hard to observe my surroundings.
Waking up the next morning, most of what I could hear was the loud traffic, telling me that there were actually cars, there were tall buildings, it was a city, and people had places to be and things to do. I was a pretty ignorant eight year old.
Discombobulating: Ah, one of my favorite words. I have been trying to sneak this into one of my answers. Anyway, back to my point. There were so many differences between my cozy house in an American suburb and the small, cookie cutter, sterile townhouse in a compound smack dab in the middle of one of the most populated cities in the world. Population of New Delhi: 22 million people. Well. When we first got there, after a half an hour ride or so from the airport, we had to go through security to get in. Whoah. Everything felt so strange. They checked our bags and we walked through a metal detector, the whole shebang. Then we were driven to our new house, Apartment 52, and dropped off with a goodbye and good luck from our sponsor family who themselves live only a block away. The fridge was empty except for a plate of cookies, which was nice but the fridge at home, that I was used to, was always sncked with foods and leftovers and ingredients for future dinners. Same with the pantry. When we got upstairs, we immediately picked our rooms (I got the one with the bathtub!), and tried to go to sleep. The sheets were scratchy and my pillow was scratchy and my back was scratchy from a bug bite I had and everything just felt ugh. I was gross from not showering in over a day. I wanted to cry. My friends were thousands of miles away, my parents equally cranky from the flight, and the house was stocked with mahogany embassy furniture that made everything seem darker and gloomier than it really was. That night was one of my most discombobulating times. Then the next day, when I woke up, the reality of what we had done sunk in. Like it was tied to an anchor. We had literally flown in a huge metal plane over a huge body of water, to leave it all behind for some stupid job my mom got. That is what I was thinking that first night and morning. I know I seem sour about it, and trust me India was one of the best experiences of my life, but to my poor eight year old soul everything around me was changing. What was I supposed to think? Along all three years I would have new experiences that would confuse me and discombobulate me (see how i’m trying to use that word as much as possible), but I think that it was worth it. The good experiences far outweighed the bad ones.
Maturing: Over the three years in India I think I matured a lot. Not that I would not have had I stayed back in the U.S, but I think it made the process go faster. When we’re in a taxi cab, on the way to the mall or a sleepover, and you see the poverty on every street corner, it makes you think. Did I really need that second cookie I just ate? Did it really matter if I just painted my nail and it had begun chipping already? Did it really matter that my Town Hall took two days to upgrade and my parents wouldn’t let me buy the gems to make it finish early? The most sad thing that happened to me was when I was coming back from a birthday party of a school friend, a goody bag in my lap. At a stop light I heard a little tap on the window. It was an obviously malnourished, young, Indian girl who was asking for food or money. Because there was some candy in the goody bag I had, and I didn’t want it, I gave it to her. Her eyes lit up and she dashed a few meters away to her (presumed) brother to share the candy with him. I had learned it was better to give food than money because they could eat the food right away and not worry about a crime lord stealing it from them (they use younger kids to guilt people into giving them money). Suddenly I heard another knock on the window. The little girl dropped the candy on the dirty sidewalk and was wondering if I had more. I felt awful that I didn’t have anymore on me. She walked away in disappointment. When I got home I cried, not for me, but for the little girl. I’m crying right now too.
Additionally, living in India taught me that sometimes you just have to suck it up and deal with the situation. Of course when you are a kid it’s easy to find stuff to whine about, but in India it becomes so much more easy. If we went sightseeing, it was always hot and sometimes I was thirsty and it was probably going to be boring. Whining to my parents didn’t fix that. But afterwards, if I told them that I hadn’t liked it, they would say okay and trying to make sure we didn’t do something like that again. They took my opinion more seriously if I said it as an adult. I remember this one time, we were vacationing somewhere in India and had decided to sight-see at this very, very old Indian fort. I had to go to the bathroom, so my mom and I separated from my sister and father and walked down the road until we found a restaurant. I’m using that term loosely, here, ladies and gentlemen. It was disgusting, and I don’t want to go into to many details, but basically there was a “bathroom” next to it. Literally feet from where they were making the food. My mom looked me right in the eyes, and told me that if I went to the bathroom there, because there were no other options, she would give me some (it was a very small amount) money. Well I ended up going and all was well. If you don’t act maturely during those situations then you’re screwed. I could have complained and whined and made a big stink to mom about it, but I didn’t. One of the most unpleasant things about India was that whenever we did something in a village or more rural place (like when we saw historical sights), the bathroom was almost always a hole in the ground. That’s one of the things I just don’t get about India. I never got a hang of the “squatting” thing and it was uncomfortable. Also, no toilet paper! My mom carried a role around with her to most places, because you never knew.
Some other little things I noticed/experienced:
- In the winter the air was horrible because many people were burning trash to keep warm. I understand the reasoning behind it, but I had to wear a mask when I walked to school, and recess was canceled because they didn’t want us running around in that. Guess what we did in place of recess…math time.
- At the market, there were some really nice shops sandwiched in between some really not nice ones. They would sell luxury items, but the shop was narrow and small. I found it bizarre.
- Sometimes when I was walking to school or a place near the embassy, I would see a motorcycle that had a whole family in it. I made a game out of how many people I could see on one motorcycle. My highest was seven people, two adults and five children.
- Wow, it was hot in the summers.
- Real beef was not common. At ACSA (a big gathering place in the embassy with a restaurant, pool, bowling alley, etc.), they made “beef” but everyone knew it was water buffalo. The first year I only had it once when we get to a very fancy restaurant for my mom’s birthday. I know it’s for religious reasons so I didn’t mind.
- Another thing was that like beef, ice cream was rare in the commissary, so we had to make our own. It was fun but it took an hour to chill before we ate it, and because we always made chocolate ice-cream and our mixer wasn’t very good, cocoa clumps were abundant. The cocoa clumps were super bitter and unpleasant to eat, because they were unsweetened.
- Most of the people we encountered spoke some English. It wasn’t hard communicating with people in India as I had thought it would be. I think it’s because when the British ruled India, they made people learn English. Also, English is so widespread that people might think it’s a good language to know.
A couple of the many wonderful things I experienced in India were:
- The Taj Mahal. We drove about two hours to go and see it, and it was totally worth it. From our hotel room you could see a small bit of it from the distance, which was cool. It was very grand and beautiful.
- My school. I attended AES, the American Embassy School. The teachers were great and the way the curriculum was presented made it easy to learn. A+ school.
- The holidays and festivals. While I didn’t religiously celebrate any of them, I still enjoyed celebrating them because they were colorful and cheerful. Everyone was spreading their joy and it was fun to be a part of it.
- The monsoon season! While there were some downsides of this, I loved dancing in the rain! Rain also makes everything cozier.
- Train travel. In the United States I’ve never travelled by long distance trains, just the ones where you only board it to ride a train and sometimes I ride the subway.
- Good music. I couldn’t understand it but the beat was fantastic and Jai Ho was always playing.
Overall, my experience in India was incredibly amazing. It opened my eyes to different cultures, viewpoints, and all types of diversity. The friends I made there I still occasionally FaceTime and Instagram everyday, which is nice. Because everyone at my school was there temporarily, they are spread out all over the globe now. My name is carved on a wall in the peace garden there, along with many other families who paid to have their names etched on there. I learned how to knit, play soccer, bake, and hail a taxi. My spice tolerance is decent now, too.
2. Peter Claridge, works at Unmetric (This content first appeared here)
I’ve lived in India for almost a decade. It wasn’t supposed to happen. I was only going to be here for a couple of years. So what happened? I fell in love with the country, fell in love with the people, oh and fell in love with a girl – and then convinced her to marry me.
I’m now an OCI card holder and get Indian ticket rates at all the ASI locations. 30 rupees!
I live in the greatest city in India: Chennai
(Firestorm from Delhiites, Mumbaikars, Bangaloreans starting in 3…2…1)
Haha, just kidding. I’ve travelled all over India and love each place I’ve been to.
There are many things that I can say that I appreciate about the country, but let’s keep it to just three for this answer.
- Opportunity!
- You can get anything done, anytime, anywhere
- The cost of living is incredible
1. Opportunity
I think the biggest thing I can say about India is opportunity.
It’s silly to make comparisons between countries but indulge me for a few minutes in this answer. If I compare people I know in the UK and people I know in India, the people in India are HUSTLING!
In the UK, the feeling I get is that people are 100% happy and content with their £40,000 a year middle-management, 9–5 job, a 3 bedroom detached house in Smalltown, a couple of cars, barbecues in the summer and a couple of weeks away in the sun each year.
Not every single person, of course. But certainly no one from my school or university has gone on to do their own thing or become the CEO of a company. And there’s definitely nothing wrong with that, good for them. They’ve reached a place in life where they are completely comfortable with where they are at.
I also have a good steady job, albeit demanding a bit more than 9–5, and have zero plans to do my own thing other than maybe, one day, write that novel. So I’m definitely not standing in a glass house throwing any stones here.
In India, the sense I get is that there is a craving, a huge desire to go and be something or do something greater than the 9–5 routine. Not everyone acts on these cravings, but a good proportion of people do. More than I’ve seen in the UK.
I think it starts with the schools which are way more competitive than they are in the UK. The students are all tested and ranked in public view. You have to work harder than ever to compete against your classmates otherwise you could be at the bottom of the table. If you don’t do something extra to stand out from the crowd, you become the crowd.
For someone who is smart, hardworking, willing to take risks and prepared to live somewhere just outside the societal norms and expectations, there is a vast amount of opportunity.
There’s never been a better time in India to branch out on your own or start your own business. The costs to get up and running are minimal, labour is cheap, and business is plentiful.
My wife is a good example of this. She got fed up of the corporate bulshit and quit everything to do her own thing. A couple of years later and she’s in a position where she can pick and choose clients she wants to work with – and there’s no shortage of people calling asking to work with her. She could easily grow her business into something bigger, but now she can maintain an enviable work-life balance, work with people she chooses and earn more than in her old salaried jobs.
By contrast, in the UK if you want to branch out on your own, losing your source of income while you get things set up is a major impediment. The cost of living is so high that you can’t afford to go more than a few months without a regular injection of cash. Families are perhaps going to be less supportive of a 20-something child living at home who’s earning little money but trying to build a sustainable business. Renting office space, hiring labour and finding good paying customers is all far more expensive and tough.
However, I don’t think this opportunity in India is evenly spread. The vast majority of the population, due to grinding poverty and social barriers, don’t have access to this opportunity. Your education and family background plays an important role as well.
Many of the entrepreneurs I know in India – and there are so many – have come from well-to-do middle-class or wealthy families who could support their children in the formative years of whatever business it is that they are creating.
I know there are a dozen and more examples where people have gone from unimaginable poverty to running business empires. There was even an enterprising chap that was a tea seller and through an insane work ethic, became the prime minister of India, but it’s an exception rather than a rule.
2. Getting Things Done
This is what I love about India, and I acknowledge that it comes down to the almost infinite supply of cheap labour. 93% of India earns less than 250,000 rupees a year.
Imagine the scenario: it’s 9pm on a Sunday and you have a banging headache but no painkillers in the house. In the UK, you go to bed and try and sleep it off. In India, everything is still open at 9pm so you nip to the pharmacy and buy some painkillers.
It boggles my wife’s mind that at 5pm in the UK, everything is shut – except the pubs and restaurants. I guess there are a few corner shops open and they are run by…Indian families. Sundays in the UK are even worse. Why is the Government forcing shops to open for a restrictive number of hours? It makes no sense and is an embarrassment to explain to your Indian mother-in-law why she can’t go and buy something at 6pm on a Sunday.
At 8pm on Tuesday evening in Chennai, if I need something photocopied or passport photos taken, I just have to walk a couple of streets and I’ll find a place that is open.
Last year I wrote a book about being an expat in Chennai. I spoke to a local printer in the city, sent them my print-ready PDF and two days later they delivered professionally printed and bound books to my door. Two days! With doorstep delivery!
I couldn’t imagine doing that in the UK. I’d be waiting for four weeks, pay a huge amount of money for the printing and setup, and then be charged extra for the delivery.
With a frustrating amount of regularity, our broadband internet dies at home. Due to the way the wires are strung up across trees and poles in the streets, it’s usually because the wires have broken. We can call Docomo at 4pm, immediately speak to an operator and within hours they’ve sent a technician to come and repair the lines. If it was the UK, we’d be on hold for 30 minutes and told that a technician will call next Wednesday between 10:30am and 12 noon and please to be at home when they call.
I’ve worked with vendors in India and in the US as part of my job. The US wants a three or four week lead time for the delivery of materials. Vendors in India want three or four days.
3. The Cost of Living is Incredible
Let me preface this with a disclaimer that I’m not one of those typical expats who have been transferred to the country, are paid a boatload of money to do so, have additional hardship allowances, entertainment allowances, villa/farmhouse, car, driver, household staff provided etc.
I also understand that as a tax payer in India, I’m part of the 1.5% of very privileged population because I earn enough to pay tax. Of that 1.5% I’m part of the 6.6% that earn between 10 lakhs and 1 crore. To say I’m part of the highly privileged few is an understatement. I would hazard a guess that the 93% of the population mentioned earlier would not agree with me that the cost of living is incredible.
I’m working in a small company earning the same as many others in the office.
Because of my privilege from the salary I earn, I find the cost of living to be incredible, and that has a direct impact on the standard of living – beyond what I might have back in the UK.
I don’t own a car because I think it’s a stupid idea to own one if you live in the city and don’t have kids. A car is a liability and only makes sense if you have a family and live in a place that isn’t covered by a reliable service like Uber.
Every morning I travel 17KM to the office in the back of an air conditioned car. It costs about Rs 240 and takes about an hour. In that hour I read blogs related to my work, write content for my own websites or write answers on Quora. It’s a productive hour.
To access the internet, I’m tethered on a 4G connection that cost me Rs 265 for 4GB. 265 rupees! In the UK recently, I paid £20 for 6GB of data – about Rs 1,650!
To get back home, I take the train. It’s not packed like you might see on the Mumbai trains. It’s pleasant, you get a seat. It costs Rs 105 per month and gets you from A to B more efficiently than any other type of transport in the city. I can’t even take a single journey on the London underground for Rs 105.
(This is me on the MRTS in Chennai the other day)
Rent and utilities are extraordinarily cheap compared to the UK. I spend about 25% of my salary on rent, electricity and water. In the UK, that would be more like 50%.
If I wanted to, I could hire someone to cook and clean my home for a month for the same amount it would cost me to have someone clean my home for a few hours once a month in the UK.
(We haven’t hired any help at home because we believe that we’re both quite capable of cooking for ourselves and cleaning our own home).
These are some of the many things I feel about living in India. Some of you may wonder what I believe to be the bad things, but I think many of these have been covered by other people answering this question so there’s no need to go over them again.
I don’t want this answer to be taken as anything against the UK or India. Both have their advantages and disadvantages in equal abundance. I’m sure there are plenty of people from both countries that could list out all of these.
The biggest thing I miss about the UK is pavements (sidewalks). Nobody gets more emotional than I do when I come across a street in India that has a beautiful, even, unobstructed pavement to walk along.