I had a very unusual moment in Delhi the other day.
I was waiting in line to go through the bag check and metal detectors to enter the American Centre library--security in India is crazy intense. I'm not exactly sure why, but I know that they have a lot of terrorismish problems between Muslims and Hindus both living in India. For example, there's a nested mounted machine gun-wielding Indian military person at the entrance to the Metro station--very uncomfortable feeling. Nevertheless, I was waiting in line and I just happened to be looking at an Indian police officer and suddenly I had a swelling sensation of what I'd call patriotism--for lack of a better word. Indian police officers also walk around the city wielding AK-47s and other large Russian rifles that look like they're from the Cold War era. As an American, I'm used to seeing police officers walking around with a pistol in their belt--never just casually walking around with military-grade rifles slung around their shoulders or resting in their palms.
Before I continue, let me first say that much of what I'm about to say is simply my initial personal feelings. It's the raw truth of an American visiting India--an arguably stated 3rd world split-personality country. It may not be completely accurate given just my glimpse of India, nor may it always sound "politically correct," but this experience was so incredibly unique and strange--at least, in my lifetime--that I decided I should write about it. Also, it's especially interesting knowing my personal opinions, behavior and "political stances" while living in America. Therefore, I think this is quite interesting.
Continuing on, I saw this Indian police officer wielding an unnecessary and obnoxious weapon for his post while waiting in line for what I considered to be frivolous and--well, stupid--security checks. All to gain access to an American library where an English writer was speaking who I wanted to see. I wasn't exactly frustrated, I just thought the whole fiasco was ridiculous.
But ridiculous why? As I said, I had this bizarre sensation of American pride suddenly. It was part "my big brother can beat up your big brother" feeling toward the Indian police officer and also part recognition that I do, for whatever reason, arguably live in the most powerful country in the world. I don't care to get into political discussions on this, but being in India has made me realize how exactly privileged I am to be an American and how realistically amazing America is (although I recognize its vast short-comings).
I'm not exactly sure what I want to say about this feeling, or how I could expand on it and its significance. As I said, for the folks who know me intimately back home, I'm sure it's quite bizarre to hear me praising America--I tend to harshly criticize both America and patriotism or nationalism in general. Yet I am an American. I love my nation's history. In fact, while in the American Centre in Delhi I was reading Mark Twain's "Life on the Mississippi." Yes, the irony of sitting in India and reading Mark Twain is obvious, but it's also representative of how much I truly love where I live. Not in an zenophobic "all other nations aren't worth my time" kind, but I simply really identify and appreciate my homeland. I suppose being in such a drastically different place will do that to you; you'll either leave your originally living place for the new found place (as is the case for many of the Western Hare Krsna folk I met who now live in Vrindavan) or you realize how honestly you love your home and the fact that it is your home.
This isn't to say that I'm coming home waving the American flag and drastically changing my politics. As I said, America, for all of its greatness, needs changing (at least, in my opinion). It does, however, mean that I'm coming home with a new found appreciation for where I come from, my national heritage, myths, ideals and values. It means I'll sit along the Mississippi, after having sat next to the Ganges, and love that river even more than I did before I came. It means that I'll come home and cherish the romance of the American West even more than I did before I saw the mountain ranges of India. I'm an American, and while I don't necessarily agree with everything it does (I have, afterall and considering how near I am geographically, been thoroughly reflecting on Pakistan and Afghanistan while here in India), I do in fact love my country.
I'll be there soon,
Dylan
I was waiting in line to go through the bag check and metal detectors to enter the American Centre library--security in India is crazy intense. I'm not exactly sure why, but I know that they have a lot of terrorismish problems between Muslims and Hindus both living in India. For example, there's a nested mounted machine gun-wielding Indian military person at the entrance to the Metro station--very uncomfortable feeling. Nevertheless, I was waiting in line and I just happened to be looking at an Indian police officer and suddenly I had a swelling sensation of what I'd call patriotism--for lack of a better word. Indian police officers also walk around the city wielding AK-47s and other large Russian rifles that look like they're from the Cold War era. As an American, I'm used to seeing police officers walking around with a pistol in their belt--never just casually walking around with military-grade rifles slung around their shoulders or resting in their palms.
Before I continue, let me first say that much of what I'm about to say is simply my initial personal feelings. It's the raw truth of an American visiting India--an arguably stated 3rd world split-personality country. It may not be completely accurate given just my glimpse of India, nor may it always sound "politically correct," but this experience was so incredibly unique and strange--at least, in my lifetime--that I decided I should write about it. Also, it's especially interesting knowing my personal opinions, behavior and "political stances" while living in America. Therefore, I think this is quite interesting.
Continuing on, I saw this Indian police officer wielding an unnecessary and obnoxious weapon for his post while waiting in line for what I considered to be frivolous and--well, stupid--security checks. All to gain access to an American library where an English writer was speaking who I wanted to see. I wasn't exactly frustrated, I just thought the whole fiasco was ridiculous.
But ridiculous why? As I said, I had this bizarre sensation of American pride suddenly. It was part "my big brother can beat up your big brother" feeling toward the Indian police officer and also part recognition that I do, for whatever reason, arguably live in the most powerful country in the world. I don't care to get into political discussions on this, but being in India has made me realize how exactly privileged I am to be an American and how realistically amazing America is (although I recognize its vast short-comings).
I'm not exactly sure what I want to say about this feeling, or how I could expand on it and its significance. As I said, for the folks who know me intimately back home, I'm sure it's quite bizarre to hear me praising America--I tend to harshly criticize both America and patriotism or nationalism in general. Yet I am an American. I love my nation's history. In fact, while in the American Centre in Delhi I was reading Mark Twain's "Life on the Mississippi." Yes, the irony of sitting in India and reading Mark Twain is obvious, but it's also representative of how much I truly love where I live. Not in an zenophobic "all other nations aren't worth my time" kind, but I simply really identify and appreciate my homeland. I suppose being in such a drastically different place will do that to you; you'll either leave your originally living place for the new found place (as is the case for many of the Western Hare Krsna folk I met who now live in Vrindavan) or you realize how honestly you love your home and the fact that it is your home.
This isn't to say that I'm coming home waving the American flag and drastically changing my politics. As I said, America, for all of its greatness, needs changing (at least, in my opinion). It does, however, mean that I'm coming home with a new found appreciation for where I come from, my national heritage, myths, ideals and values. It means I'll sit along the Mississippi, after having sat next to the Ganges, and love that river even more than I did before I came. It means that I'll come home and cherish the romance of the American West even more than I did before I saw the mountain ranges of India. I'm an American, and while I don't necessarily agree with everything it does (I have, afterall and considering how near I am geographically, been thoroughly reflecting on Pakistan and Afghanistan while here in India), I do in fact love my country.
I'll be there soon,
Dylan
If you think you love America now - Wait until you see True Grit - my new favorite movie!
ReplyDeleteWhen are you coming home? Have you been to New Orleans?
Its a lot like India.
I'm actually looking forward to seeing True Grit. I wanted to see it before I left but after will have to do. I'm leaving Delhi tonight on a train arriving in Varanasi tomorrow morning. I've got one night in Varanasi (where I started my journey one month ago--we'll see how things have changed with my perception and experience of Varanasi) and then I fly out of Varanasi on the 2nd. Arriving in Chicago at 6AM on the 3rd. The journey's nearly over--and it's been a journey, indeed.
ReplyDeleteNever been to New Orleans, though I've wanted to go ever since I saw Easy Rider. Hah. But yes, actually, I'd like to visit. I'll be the judge of whether it's like India or not when I go.
It took us this long to find your blog, enjoy your accounts of India, and at last start reading the comments. Then, with the account of your swell of patriotic love of country, I was reminded of 60 years ago (!) when we were in Canada with your dad, our sweet "wee David." We were treated wonderfully there, especially in regard to medical care (even we students passing through got free medical care and a check for $15 a month for our little Canadian. Nevertheless, if we unexpectedly saw our own flag flying in the foreign breeze it brought tears to my eyes. Homesick? Then, the trials of the civil rights and Viet Nam increased my love of the ideals that have slowly formed the country as we know and value it. Looked at one way, those struggles laid bare how we have failed to maintain our ideals of equality and humanity, but as I saw the non-violence of the movement, in spite of violence directed to them, and eventually the fulfillment of their cause through the courts and laws of this country; when I saw the tenacious demands to stop the war at last reach the power that be and the people's voice was heard - then I appreciated what a powerful thing we had in our constitution and rule of law. Although the right wing was calling objectors, traitors etc. I knew they did not really love the true strength of our country - the power of people.
ReplyDeleteIt is those ideals, I think that moves us when we are reminded of them.
That, and the land.
Welcome home and thanks for sharing, Dylan! Grandma
I do think as Dylan commented that much of patriotism involves just allegiance to your own family and extended culture. But I think there is also a rational patriotism...pride and a sense of defense for the ideals of the society. In America's case it is the idea of individual freedom and rights. I recently saw this interview with Chinese students at a University in Beijing. One of the students called America's idea of their need to defend human rights in other countries "cute" --- that we see ourselves as heroes like our cowboy heroes. The interviewer asked the student thought how they could say that didn't see individual rights and democracy as that important when they in fact can't express any other view point without risking their own freedom. And that of course is the problem with this sort of attempt at cu.ltural relativism -- its like a culture like the Taliban arguing that it is cultural relativism that disapproves of the subjugation of women in the Taliban culture. That would be true if the women in that culture were able to freely choose to be subjugated...something that is paradoxic though isn't it? So that is what I feel patriotic about with America... though I don't think its exclusive to America -- the idea of personal liberty and democratic union. That's what we like when we see the Egyptian people out demanding their right to have a say in what their country is.
ReplyDeleteHope you have a nice trip home. I'm glad you had such a wide and full adventure on the other side of the world.
That previous comment was from your Uncle Tim.
ReplyDeleteYou have been gone for an ENTIRE MONTH?? Wow! Didn't realize that...
New Orleans has cops everywhere on horse back...poor horses - standing on the concrete for hours with cops on their backs.
Have a safe trip back. Will you see Ellis in Chicago?