travel
India, part 2: on Jaipur, love and belonging
stories of intercultural relationships
It is late evening, and the highway hums with the noise of traffic. Our bus is apparently late, but the evening wind is refreshing, and we wait. I’ve never known what a sleeper bus was: think of a bus with a sleeping compartment, much like on trains, just smaller. We head to Jaipur – the final stop of our journey, and another family stay.
Swaying of the night bus acts like a lullaby, and I sleep deeply the whole time until the morning. At night, another world appears: a quiet Dutch town with neat brick facades, its open and empty streets. I hear my measured stride, the pattering noises of footsteps, crossing an empty square… I wake up knowing how much I miss Europe and home, then I look through the window, suddenly waking up from its enlivening views: Jaipur.
Jaipur stands out for me almost immediately compared to all the places in India we have seen before: walkable. As a person with a hunger for wandering around new cities, seeing rows of trees and spacious parks, together with pedestrian walks scratches an old itch to explore. The time in India has been heavily car-oriented, and Jaipur felt like a lungful of fresh air. After the parks, it is the forts and the pinkish-red walls I notice during our first ride. “It explains well why they call it a Pink City”, - and, after my dream of a quiet Dutch square, I am brought back in the moment. Revived. Let’s go.
A 7-year-old Garv gets upset at us and runs upstairs the first fifteen minutes after we arrive: we should have given him more attention; he has waited for us for so long! We get a spacious room in the house, I meet the uncles and aunts, grandparents and cousins, second cousins, siblings of grandparents and friends of siblings of grandparents. We enter one door to meet a family, get a plate of crunchy namkeen, cross the building longitudinally, follow the corridor and enter yet another household with more cousins and a served ghevar. I learn to remember the names and words, who is a bhai and who is a behen, what is the difference between nana and dada, who is the tallest and who desperately wants to be. I think I got it. Moving on.
The sun rises behind the Jal Mahal - Water Palace, especially appealing to the newlyweds, taking pictures in their long sarees. Early in the morning, is still fresh, and my eyes reflect the sun, soaking in its golden tones. We get lost in Amber fort’s mirroring ornaments and vast courtyards, and the tour guide takes us to the shop - a maze of its own, where every corner attempts to sell. A quilt, a card, a piece of jewellery, here-is-the-best-kurta-you-can-find, here you get the palm reading for free where the only thing they say is: “Ruby is your stone. You can buy it over there”. I laugh as Nipun grows annoyed by the deceivers, because tell me, love, how often have you explored your own vast country as a tourist?
Travelling to the country of your partner for the first time is like opening a manual to someone’s behaviour. If there are things you never quite understood about them, showing up thousands of kilometres away can provide a proper explanation. Check page ninety-seven, paragraph three: what he really means when he says that there will be 250 relatives at the wedding from his side. And then you notice the little things: that even for Nipun, a person who lived much of his life outside India, national traits are surprisingly recognizable, gestures – oddly common, and even the way he widens his eyes? Just like the rest!
India deals with many stereotypes. Often, whenever I mention I have an Indian boyfriend, people assume strong Indian accent, medicine or engineering, ask about Indian weddings and what his family thinks about him having a non-Indian partner. People from the Western world are usually simply curious, Moldovans – slightly sceptical or surprised, like a border police officer on the train between Bucharest and Chisinau, with eyes wide open asking: “wow, how did you two meet?” Before letting Nipun into the country.
Intercultural, or in this case interracial relationships, especially in more conservative or not widely international countries, are more likely to tackle these questions. With my parents, it sparks deep conversations and questions of belonging, weight of traditions and rituals. Luckily, we like Indian culture: values are familiar, community feeling – strong, and my dad has watched hundreds of episodes of Indian series. I suspect that by doing that he has accidentally manifested Nipun into my life. So, despite being strict towards all potential boyfriends of his daughter (of course, I’m his little princess!), he loves Nipun. My mom, when she was a teenager in the USSR, would bring her younger siblings to the cinema to watch Disco Dancer (little did she know...) Now they get all along by making fun of me, and I smile at these family gatherings.
Intercultural, or in this case interracial relationships, especially in more conservative or not widely international countries, are more likely to tackle these questions. With my parents, it sparks deep conversations and questions of belonging, weight of traditions and rituals. Luckily, we like Indian culture: values are familiar, community feeling – strong, and my dad has watched hundreds of episodes of Indian series. I suspect that by doing that he has accidentally manifested Nipun into my life. So, despite being strict towards all potential boyfriends of his daughter (of course, I’m his little princess!), he loves Nipun. My mom, when she was a teenager in the USSR, would bring her younger siblings to the cinema to watch Disco Dancer (little did she know...) Now they get all along by making fun of me, and I smile at these family gatherings.
In India I was quickly embraced – much like an extra daughter or a niece. I was well-fed and widely gifted, shown lots of places and introduced to so many family members who wanted to meet me, a very heartwarming experience. During this time in India, I realized – for the first time in my life profoundly – that I’m in a truly stable and committed relationship. Sometimes I had to slow down, take a couple of deep breaths, and reflect on what it means to receive a golden necklace from Nipun’s grandmother. In many moments, from my more Western perspective it felt like getting married without actually doing so, which I needed some processing time for. But those late-night talks with the family, sitting on a bed, learning into each other’s world, listening and seeing each other deeper – all made me feel I have acquired another home, rightfully earned by the time, effort and care invested in our connection.
If I put my 10 days experience of India into words and impressions, I would say it was captivating time full of internal self-discovery, an enriching time for both my relationship and myself. I wouldn’t have changed a single thing about it; I felt accepted, surrounded by kindness and affection. Still, the narrative of India itself is not straightforward, and required time to fully process how I felt about the place. In many moments I felt guilty for not having a simple “wow” reaction. I got stressed when using the public toilets and drank less water just because I was unsure of its quality. I needed time to get used to brushing teeth with bottled water, time to adjust to the noises, the crowds and heat – even in March. The joy of learning about another culture comes with the challenge of knowing that, whether you like it or not, it becomes a part of you. It is yours now – and your ego, if unchecked, might resist that more than you realize. So don’t resist it. India will touch you with colours and liveliness, leaving unforgettable and bright traces, much like a girl who painted your cheeks before Holi. And remember: whenever in doubt, just have some Indian chai with spices. It's great. I promise.
If I put my 10 days experience of India into words and impressions, I would say it was captivating time full of internal self-discovery, an enriching time for both my relationship and myself. I wouldn’t have changed a single thing about it; I felt accepted, surrounded by kindness and affection. Still, the narrative of India itself is not straightforward, and required time to fully process how I felt about the place. In many moments I felt guilty for not having a simple “wow” reaction. I got stressed when using the public toilets and drank less water just because I was unsure of its quality. I needed time to get used to brushing teeth with bottled water, time to adjust to the noises, the crowds and heat – even in March. The joy of learning about another culture comes with the challenge of knowing that, whether you like it or not, it becomes a part of you. It is yours now – and your ego, if unchecked, might resist that more than you realize. So don’t resist it. India will touch you with colours and liveliness, leaving unforgettable and bright traces, much like a girl who painted your cheeks before Holi. And remember: whenever in doubt, just have some Indian chai with spices. It's great. I promise.
