When I finally booked my tickets to India, I was ecstatic. After three years of missing the place, I was so happy to finally be going back. My family—they were a little less eager than I was. First, there was convincing the parents. Then, there was telling the grandparents (I mean, there’s no chance of really convincing Grandpa that leaving the US is okay). After those two daunting tasks are done, the last step is to formulate an appropriate response to the anticipated question, “Why?”
Most people are just honestly curious about my interest in the country. Others ask the question knowing the answer they want to hear. Responses along the lines of, “I feel called to help the poor,” or, “I love how exotic places like India are,” are expected. And everyone, no matter what, wants to talk about how unsafe a place like India is for women—instances of gendered violence, mostly gang rape, as reported by media sources are often cited. I know that’s what they expect, because that’s what I thought when I embarked on my first trip to India three years ago. Seventeen-year-old Rachel, however innocently, arrogantly believed that she would actually make an impact of the lives of people she encountered in India during her eight week stint. It’s embarrassing to remember, but it’s the truth, and so I can’t condemn the individuals whose opinions I shared not so long ago. That is, there appears to be a mutual consensus among the general populace that modern India is a combination of the romanticized princely states of yore, rampant misogyny, abject poverty, and an incurable amount of dirt and disease.
So how do I respond to, “Why?”? I didn’t have a good answer before I arrived in India, but on my first night here I had a breakthrough. It was 3 AM, so it’s taken me a few weeks to work through what I’ve been thinking, and so far this is what I’ve come up with.
When people ask why, it’s because they have bought into the media portrayal of the backward, misogynistic, poor and dirty India. So many people come here to witness the backwardness, so they can say they saw "real poverty,” and they prove they have with the photos they’ve taken. And let’s be honest, nobody back home wants to see photos of the nice bars and restaurants you’ve visited. They want what they expect—small children in tattered clothing, poor and hungry women, dirty streets. Because what else are places like India good for if we can’t return to our home and relish in the comfort. Focusing on the bad in other places lets us ignore the bad in our own.
So when I first got here I was thinking about that a lot, and I realized that it's probably the same way God sees us. We're dirty, sinful, broken, cruel, hateful, violent, arrogant, etc. The majority of our lives are spent trying to keep from becoming totally corrupted by the world. But God still sees some beauty in us, when really He has no reason at all to. And there is a beauty to India, not even in the archaic, romanticized way. It's beautiful how it is because it is alive and bustling and active and filled with God's creation. So I had a glimpse of what it must feel like to God to love humans. On the surface, there isn't an obvious rationale. But when you dig a little deeper, you see that there is so much more. And if he can find so much value in us, then why should we not find the same value in a place like this?
Most people are just honestly curious about my interest in the country. Others ask the question knowing the answer they want to hear. Responses along the lines of, “I feel called to help the poor,” or, “I love how exotic places like India are,” are expected. And everyone, no matter what, wants to talk about how unsafe a place like India is for women—instances of gendered violence, mostly gang rape, as reported by media sources are often cited. I know that’s what they expect, because that’s what I thought when I embarked on my first trip to India three years ago. Seventeen-year-old Rachel, however innocently, arrogantly believed that she would actually make an impact of the lives of people she encountered in India during her eight week stint. It’s embarrassing to remember, but it’s the truth, and so I can’t condemn the individuals whose opinions I shared not so long ago. That is, there appears to be a mutual consensus among the general populace that modern India is a combination of the romanticized princely states of yore, rampant misogyny, abject poverty, and an incurable amount of dirt and disease.
So how do I respond to, “Why?”? I didn’t have a good answer before I arrived in India, but on my first night here I had a breakthrough. It was 3 AM, so it’s taken me a few weeks to work through what I’ve been thinking, and so far this is what I’ve come up with.
When people ask why, it’s because they have bought into the media portrayal of the backward, misogynistic, poor and dirty India. So many people come here to witness the backwardness, so they can say they saw "real poverty,” and they prove they have with the photos they’ve taken. And let’s be honest, nobody back home wants to see photos of the nice bars and restaurants you’ve visited. They want what they expect—small children in tattered clothing, poor and hungry women, dirty streets. Because what else are places like India good for if we can’t return to our home and relish in the comfort. Focusing on the bad in other places lets us ignore the bad in our own.
So when I first got here I was thinking about that a lot, and I realized that it's probably the same way God sees us. We're dirty, sinful, broken, cruel, hateful, violent, arrogant, etc. The majority of our lives are spent trying to keep from becoming totally corrupted by the world. But God still sees some beauty in us, when really He has no reason at all to. And there is a beauty to India, not even in the archaic, romanticized way. It's beautiful how it is because it is alive and bustling and active and filled with God's creation. So I had a glimpse of what it must feel like to God to love humans. On the surface, there isn't an obvious rationale. But when you dig a little deeper, you see that there is so much more. And if he can find so much value in us, then why should we not find the same value in a place like this?