By Rachel Swallwood
When I decided to do research for my master’s thesis in Bangalore, India, with the help of Escape To..., I knew that it would mean making major changes in my life. I sacrificed things like being with my family for holidays, celebrating birthdays with friends, my New York City apartment where I lived with my childhood best friend in a neighborhood that I adore, my job with coworkers that I looked forward to seeing every day- you know, little things. Now that I’ve made that wild dream of doing international research a reality, we’ve all found ourselves in some sort of pandemic-fueled dystopian nightmare.
This is 100 Feet Road, one of the main stretches in my neighborhood. It used to take 10 minutes to drive down one block of this street. It’s hard to imagine now that it looks so peaceful.
I came to India in January when COVID-19 was confined to China, and the disease I was most concerned about was malaria. After living in NYC, I wasn’t too concerned about adjusting to city life in Bangalore. But OH, had I underestimated; NYC is organized chaos, and India was just chaos. I felt like a child who needed to relearn how to perform basic life skills, the Indian way.
I learned how to walk on sidewalks that would cause a riot at the ADA, and how to traverse congested streets lacking crosswalks, traffic lights, or even traffic lanes. In the city with the most traffic in the world, Bangalore autorickshaw drivers make NYC taxi drivers look like bachche (children in Hindi). I pretended that I was playing high-stakes Frogger at every intersection, trying to cross a rapid river of motorbikes and autos without getting squashed. Now that the nation is under lockdown, the streets that used to give me such anxiety are empty, except for a few cars and delivery drivers on motorbikes here and there. I had never seen any green roads on Google Maps, only red and dark red. Now, if I had a car, I could fly around the city! If I didn’t get caught by the police for breaking the lockdown, that is.
This is actually white rice with ghee and spices. I got so excited to eat that I forgot to snap a photo when the biriyani came but, you can still see the banana leaf and sides you mix in with the rice.
I learned how to eat- with my hands! That is the norm in South India. There is a definitive art to mixing your rice with gravy, forming a little mound, scooping it up with all of your fingers, and pushing it into your mouth with your thumb. The last time I ate at a restaurant was for Andhra style biryani. It was the perfect meal to practice my phalange feeding skills by sopping up the decadently spiced rice on my banana leaf plate and mixing it with various curds, pickles, and sides. The restaurant used to have a line down the street every day, but not that day. All of the staff members were wearing masks and gloves. The city officially locked down a few days later. Now, despite the number of times a day I’ve been washing my hands, I’ve still been opting for forks instead of fingers.
I learned how to talk. Although most people in Bangalore speak some degree of English, this version of ‘English’ is often not the same ‘English’ that I know. Arguably more important than words, I learned the ubiquitous head wobble. I wasn't aware of how much I nod my head up and down until my first day at the NGO, when my new coworkers were all repeatedly shaking their heads laterally. I wondered if they understood me as my head went up and down like a broken bobblehead and theirs went side to side. I realized this diagonal shaking, seeming to be led from the chin, has far more range than a yes/no nod. From my interactions I think that it can also mean maybe, maybe not, I understand, I don’t understand, I agree, I disagree but I realize it is pointless to argue with you, what’s up, OK, or thank you. The faster the wobble, the more enthusiastic or sincere the meaning; the person really understands or really agrees, while a slower wobble is more along the lines of ‘I don’t understand’ or ‘I want to say no but that would be rude so I’m going to make this noncommittal gesture to acknowledge the fact that you have spoken.’ For example, take this conversation I had with my doorman the other day:
Me: Hello! *fast head wobble**wave hello*
Him: Hello! Hi! *fast head wobble*
Me: It looks like it’s going to rain soon.
Him: *slow head wobble*
Me: *pointing up to the sky* Rain, today.
Him: *looks up**medium speed head wobble* Oh, rain! Yes, rain today.
Me: Well, have a good day! *fast head wobble**wave goodbye*
Him: Good day ma’am! *fast head wobble*
He is the only person I talk to out loud, in person, every day now during lockdown. Our conversations are never more complex than that. Most of the time we just say hello.
I also needed some potty training. Luckily, I have experience with, and love using, the squat toilets that are common here. But most newer establishments, and my apartment, have what Indians refer to as Western toilets : our familiar friend, John. The fun new addition is a high-powered water hose that functions like a supercharged handheld bidet. The spray does all the cleaning, and toilet paper is optional for drying purposes. Lots of public places don't supply it at all. It’s a much more sustainable system! So, when I started hearing about toilet paper shortages in the U.S. I couldn’t help but laugh because that is such a non-issue here. One of my best friends is a nurse and he summed up toilet paper usage like this: “If you got poop anywhere else on your body and used only a piece of paper to wipe it off, you would never think that it’s clean.” He's got a good point!
All of these skill adjustments weren't too hard to make over time, after I oriented to the rhythm within the Bangalorian chaos. Now we're all needing to reorient ourselves in this new ‘reality' of a global pandemic, I'm just doing it far from home. The cultural differences sometimes add another layer of confusion to my qua-routine. Before lockdown, I was going into the field 1-4 days a week for my research, thinking I was truly having a positive impact on people’s lives. Now I'm staying inside my apartment as much as possible, trying to make sure I don’t have a negative impact on people’s lives by unknowingly spreading coronavirus. I had lots of plans that I’ve needed to cancel, like everyone has. My sister and cousin were planning to meet in Thailand to celebrate a milestone birthday. I would have gone to Agra to visit the Taj Mahal at the end of March. A friend from the UK and I talked about trekking for a long weekend in Coorg. Not to mention the reason I came here in the first place, all of the fieldwork I was supposed to be doing for my thesis is on hold indefinitely. Thankfully my thesis advisor has been very flexible.
The view from my rooftop — peep those coconuts!
Despite all of this madness I am grateful for so many reasons, and I make sure to remind myself of that gratitude. Every. Damn. Day. This has been the perfect time to realllllllly put my meditation and self-care practices to the test. It hasn’t been all rainbows and sunshine, although admittedly almost every day has been sunshine and 90°F. I have had several mental breakdowns. I have cried and been unable to verbalize what exactly caused those sudden saltwater outbursts- and that’s ok. Most days I am very content doing yoga on my roof, spotting butterflies in the coconut trees, and cooking myself delicious curries saturated with turmeric and ginger.
I am thankful to have such an amazing family and caring friends. With WhatsApp calls, Zoom meetings, and Facebook messages I am definitely keeping in touch with everyone back home more during this Pause. My 94-year-old rock star Grandma even learned how to use Zoom so that we could talk every week! I feel beyond lucky every time I get to see her face and hear her voice. I can’t wait until I can hug her again.
Perhaps our family’s 2020 holiday card???
I’m dreaming of the day when I can travel further than the grocery store (although the grocery store is pretty exciting- it's mango season!). When we’re finally able to travel again, I wonder how different it will be. Post 9/11 we had to adapt to taking our shoes off at checkpoint screenings, funneling our liquids into 3.4 oz containers, and chugging our water bottles in the security line because we forgot that they were full, OOOOPS! Post COVID-19, will every airport have thermal scanners as part of their security screenings, like I experienced in African airports during the Ebola outbreak in 2014? Will you only receive a visa if you’ve got proof of your vaccination history, or will countries require proof upon arrival? Could airlines even make vaccination requirements? Instead of trying to cram as many passengers as possible onto a plane or train, will new models take social distancing into account? When choosing travel destinations from now on, will we think about things like: “would I like to be stranded in this place if there was no form of public entertainment?” and “how easy is it to get back home from this place? Am I near any major transportation hubs?” or “what is the population density in this location?” and "how do I feel about the quality of their healthcare system?” Along with the excessive spare pairs of socks and underwear we inevitably bring on holiday (everyone does that, right?), will a face mask and gloves be on everyone’s packing list? Or perhaps a multi-functional bandana? You can use it as a headband during a hike, or to cover your mouth and nose at the first sign of coughing!
While this may not be the picture-perfect trip that I had envisioned, it is definitely the trip of a lifetime. I’ve learned so much, like what the properties of ashwagandha are, what white light energy healing is, how my hair looks like without any products in it (not as frizzy as I’d feared!), and how to identify local bird species based on their chirps. I've also learned how to do laundry in a bucket and hang it out to dry in the sun, and how to use my Bunsen burner-like stove without blowing up my whole building. I’ve had an immeasurable number of new experiences like watching a full series in a foreign language (which is where I learned the word bachche) and having my temperature taken at the bank. After all, isn’t that what travel is all about? Learning and experiencing new things? So, I’ll be out here, indefinitely, learning and experiencing.