Now here in Part III, we are getting into more personal opinions. The goal when traveling is to be happy. For me, that happiness comes when I get into where I am. Some travelers (from all over the world) don’t really bother – they wear their REI zip-off pants and safari hats and snap their D3000′s at anything that moves. And that’s awesome – they get the people who come up to them to chat with “the foreigner” and maybe even sell them something, and that makes them happy. Others enjoy stepping off the plane, pulling out their canvas knapsack and kurta, and trouncing around the country on a dollar a day. And that’s awesome too – they too get the people who come up to them to chat with “the foreigner,” and that makes them happy.
But I like taking a third approach, one that falls somewhere in between (although closer to the latter rather than the former). I try to dress totally neutral. I dress like the locals with pants and either collared shirts or t-shirts. I don’t carry a backpack around all day, and my camera stays in my pocket until I want to use it. I don’t wear any jewelry or branded clothes that scream out what class I am. I make it my job to learn as much of the local language as I can and to really get the pronunciation right. And I spend as much time outside getting into where I am as possible.
Ok, so whats the point? Do you also get the people who come up to them to chat with “the foreigner?” Well, no, not really. But that’s the point. Because I was not getting harassed by the touts and tour guides, I was able to go up to people and have a real conversation. I was able to practice and laugh at my Hindi with them, or simply sit around and share a chai. And because they couldn’t really put me into a clear-cut box, I often found that they were more curious and asked more than just “Where are you from?” and “What do you do?” And I suppose that they were happy that I was interested in their life in a way that went beyond “Can I take your picture?” As a result, I met a lot of real people along the way that introduced me to a part of the country I am not sure I would have seen if I had hid behind my camera all day. But it went even beyond this; I often felt like I was given real respect. And who knows, maybe I am just imagining it, but it made me feel like I belonged in a way, and that is a feeling that almost nothing can compare to.
One of my proudest moments in India (and one that I often like to tell because it ups my street cred) was when I was sitting on the street in Gaya, Bihar, sipping a cutting chai and watching trucks barrel by at extremely unsafe speeds, when a group of kids sat down next to me. I casually said “hi” to them in Hindi and instantly they started excitedly going off in Hindi at me. Once I got them to slow down, I found out that one of them spoke some English, which was good, I found out they they had been wondering if I was from Gaya since I was dressed normal and had no bags – they had guessed that I was some super weird light-skinned Muslim. We went on to have a great conversation about America and Hindi movies (since I told them I was a big Katrina Kaif fan) and girls (again, since I told them I was a big Katrina Kaif fan), and talked about things that I am not sure we would have gotten to if I had been holding a big fancy camera or a reading my guidebook.
In the end of course, the way you dress matters very little. What is more important is of course how you act. But it does play a role, and often a not very talked about one, which is why I wanted to spend a little time writing about it. Lots of people don’t really think about the consequences, both good and bad, of the way they present themselves. But it matters, and it is always something to consider next time you go out your door, whether it is your apartment door, or a door halfway across the world.
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