Blog #51: Village Visit

Today I spent the first half of my day in a rural village about an hour and a half outside of Bengaluru. To be quite honest, I was very hesitant about this visit at first, because I felt as though it were inappropriate for me to invade the lives of the dwellers of this village for the purpose of my own satisfaction or education.

Now, after having finished the visit with the ability to look back on the situation with hindsight, I'm still not sure whether or not I'm entirely comfortable with the experience I had today.

Our visit started with an orientation from a local community organizer, who told us about the many programs and Self-Help Groups that CSA (Christ University's volunteer organization, Center for Social Action) has implemented. The woman who gave us this initial orientation was a CSA sponsored student, who eventually has gone on to help organize and run these programs in different villages.

After this orientation, we visited a local's house and had the opportunity to ask about her life in the village. Although this was very informative, and everyone treated the people there with much respect, I couldn't help but be reminded of the 'authentic Balinese experience' Trevor Noah discusses in his Netflix comedy special, "Son of Patricia" (which I highly recommend, if you haven't watched it yet). Despite the good intentions, the education we received, and the welcoming attitude of the mother who let us enter her home, I couldn't help but feel like an invader into someone's personal life. After all, I would never let over a dozen foreigners enter my home as a 'tourist attraction,' so why would I expect someone else, regardless of their background, to do the same?

After our home visit, we visited the village school, where children are educated up to fourth grade. Following this, they must travel to another village for their education. As an 'icebreaker,' the children sang many songs for us, and we sang a couple of songs, as well as performed part of our Bollywood dance to the song Balam Pichkari. It was absolutely adorable, and I was almost in tears about how enthusiastic and cute the children were singing to us. After this, the students played outside with us, teaching us dances, hand-clapping games, playing soccer, and playing on a slide. None of us understood each other, as they only spoke the local language, Kannada, and we (except for our friend and fellow USAC student Anu, who was born in Shimoga and speaks Kannada) only spoke English. Despite this, the language of fun and play thankfully transcends spoken and written language, so all of us were able to play and laugh together.

Although I truly enjoyed my time playing with the children, I was still considering what my presence there meant to them. What were they thinking about me? Did they understand that I was there to learn and understand their life in the village? Do they expect to see me again? If they actually understood the entire situation, would they be okay with my being there?

These questions, and many more, have been running through my head consistently since this visit. I of course enjoyed my time with the kids, but at the same time, I don't want to treat them as a tourist attraction. Their lives, and the lives of everyone living in that village, are not an educational experience for me, or merely a story I can share upon returning to my privileged life in the United States. They all live complex lives just as I do, and their economic status or their living situation does not demean this.

I guess, at the end of this, I just don't know. At the same time that I appreciate the welcoming attitude of the people in the village, and am grateful for the opportunity to learn more about the life of people living in rural India, I don't think that any person, anywhere in the world, should be a tourist attraction.

How would I feel if the roles were reversed? Would I be okay with an absolute stranger from a far-away country visiting my home? Would I feel taken advantage of? Would I feel used, manipulated, appropriated?

The thing is, I don't know, and I never will. The background of privilege I come from ensures that no one will ever visit my home in the hopes of 'understanding my lifestyle,' and my potential future children will never have foreign students show up and play with them for a day as an educational experience, and then leave forever. I will never know what it's like to have myself and my lifestyle treated as an educational experience or a tourist attraction. It's because of this that I feel so uncomfortable.

Although I'm very grateful for this opportunity, and the very welcoming attitude of the people of the village I visited, I'm still uncomfortable with the entire situation, and I likely always will be. I just don't know how to feel... And that's it. I'm still confused. I'm still conflicted.

More than anything, I just hope that the people I visited don't feel taken advantage of, by me or by anyone else. I hope they feel empowered. I hope they find love and joy and beauty in their lives. I hope their life is full.

*If anyone has strong opinions about this, or perhaps relatively similar personal experiences, I'd love to hear them! As I'm still unsure as to how I feel about this village visit today, I'm more than open to any discussion about it. Whether you have questions, comments, or concerns, please reach out to me. More than anything else, I'm here to learn and grow, so please reach out and we can have a conversation about this tricky situation.*