My Culture Shocks

I wanted to write about the pandemic, what we did, who’s to be blamed and not to be blamed and so on. However, with so much death and sadness all around, I believe this isn’t the time for it. The wounds are still too raw. Hence, I wrote about this something that should cause no pain and no controversy – Cultural Shocks.

I have lived in 10 cities till now and been to more than 20 countries, so even though I consider myself well read and culturally aware, I have felt many culture shocks over the years or just shocked to see some things exist, even though it was is strictly a cultural shock. This list is in chronological order for shocks ranging from very minor to me thinking “is this really happening, or I just imagined it?”

Kota –

How green it was and how much it rained. Yes, that was a shock to me, I had come from Bikaner which is a desert city, I had sand dunes right in front of my house (also a swimming pool, but irrelevant to the topic at hand). My summer vacation was spent in Jodhpur, another desert and Bundi was all built up old town with only a few trees in sight. Comical as it may sound but rain and rivers were a new sight to me as an 8-year-old.

Bangalore –

I moved to Bangalore to STUDY, actually scratch that, to DO Engineering. Bangalore was a much bigger city and a true metro but the biggest point was that it was South India. North India and South India ought to be too different countries, they are so far apart culturally. I would find weird things everyday. Like how people drank more coffee than tea, everyone didn’t know Hindi, even the name of the Hindu gods were different. Idli was only for breakfast, rice was for breakfast, public transport wasn’t just for poor people, really rich people dressed in white shirt white pants and leather sandals, old buildings didn’t have fans (yes older Bangalore was much cooler and greener, before the bloody Northies spoiled it). Despite all this, I played it cool throughout my Bangalore days that I have seen it all.

However, there was an incident that left me and my friend shocked. We had a college senior, she was 2 years older than us. Me and my friend who was from Lucknow used to call her ‘Didi’. We didn’t give much thought to it having grown up with that our whole life. There were four of us hanging around one day, me, my friend from Lucknow, my now wife and a friend of hers who was from Bangalore. This Didi passed us, we made small talk and she kept on walking and then our friend from Bangalore called out “Hey <her first name> can I drop you somewhere”. She thanked and moved on and nobody thought twice about it except me and my friend, we looked at each other speechless. Stunned that we call her Didi and this guy, who is even an year younger than us, used her first name. How dare he! I guess the Didi Bhaiya culture never reached Bangalore.

Delhi –

I moved to Delhi for my MBA after that. Though I am a North Indian but Delhi is too much North India even for me. Think about everything North Indians are infamous for: Being loud, eve teasing, being too much into Roadies, being show off, rule breaking, saying “jaanta hai mera baap kaun hai”, being violent and aggressive etc. etc... Now turn that up to 11, that is Delhi for you. Everyone’s father is either influential or knows someone who is influential. Nobody buys tickets for anything, everybody wants passes. Mercedes, BMWs, Audis are common. Women swear in Hindi and loudly. People name drop Gucci, Prada, States, Minister, Imported, etc. etc. in random conversations. Another uniquely Delhi thing is their love for First Copies. I would have used words like duplicate, fake or replica for it earlier but Delhi people use this euphemism with a lot of respect and they scoff over Second Copy objects. Which is also a replica but a little cheaper and easier to make out as fake.

However, the biggest cultural shock was the one that I received within my first week. I was walking towards my college when one car rear ended another car. I didn’t see whose fault it was and didn’t care. The second guy who had hit the first guy’s tail light shouted something from his car, which by the tone of it didn’t seems so polite, though I couldn’t hear the actual words. The first guy got out of this car, cool as a cucumber (to my untrained, non Delhite eye), saw the damage of his car, opened the dickey, took out a baseball bat, walked over to the second guy’s car, didn’t say a word and smashed his windshield. Yes, carrying a metal rod or spanner or baseball bat or hockey stick in your car’s dickey is a thing in Delhi; Sometimes coupled with a handgun in the glove compartment.

Calcutta –

I will be honest. My first impression of Calcutta wasn’t good, the airport was as good as bus stand in any other city, the taxi that I got in was an old ambassador, but then the taxi passed through Salt lake city and I started getting my hopes up but when it approached the center of Calcutta they were quashed again. My second, third, up till the last impression of Calcutta city was bad as well. But the people, the people shocked me. They were so nice and well behaved and polite. In my first month into the city, we were in a slightly upscale bar which had unlimited drinks after a door fee. I was jostling for space at the crowded bar counter and someone stepped over my shoes, but instead of the shoulder shove that I had prepared myself for after staying in Delhi for 2 years, I got a 'Oh I am so sorry' and the guy meant it. I kept turning back looking at the guy, puzzled, is this what civility means.

And yes, prostitutes freely walk the streets in the night and run after cars which slow down to look at them (this might or might not have happened to me).

Hyderabad –

This city was rather low on the shocks department, it was run of the mill another south Indian big city with fabulous food. However, I remember one incident that amazed me and has stuck with me since then. The concept of Hindu and Muslim hotels.

I have been a late lateef my whole life, but this time I was early to the bus stand, I asked to the auto driver if I could get something to eat nearby, he said “Haan bahaiya paas mae kaafi hotel hai”. Hyderabad’s government bus stand is near a place called Afzalgunj and it’s a predominantly Muslim place as the name suggests. And you can feel it by the way people are dressed, by the sign boards in Urdu, by the whole green colored-ness of the place. Walking around I saw this Hotel named ‘Jai Maa Durga Hotel’ on that street and it is so overtly and in your face Hindu that you almost get jarred by it. If the name isn’t enough for you it has lot of big pictures of Hindu Deities hung over the counter which are quite visible from the street. There are a few Muslim cafes on the other side of street which look dingy, Irani Hotels as they are called here, and their owners eyeball me while I’m walking down the street looking left and right for a place to eat. I was never more aware of my religion than this point.

Madrid –

Spain was just cultural shock galore. Moving to a different country is different enough but moving to Spain was something else.

After a few months or so of living here, two colleagues from my company whom I knew from before, moved to Madrid. We decided to go up to the roof of the building and talk by the pool, it was a bright and warm day and we thought it was good to get out of my tiny studio apartment. The roof was on two levels, the first level had some space for standing and a shower while the second had the actual pool. As we climbed the steps of the second level we saw a woman sun bathing top less (the pool was actually covered as it was not summer yet), being Indians, all three of us ran down as soon as we saw her, shouting sorry sorry in English. We were flushed, embarrassed and unable to wrap our head around what we just saw. The woman was obviously weirded out, she dressed herself and went down from the roof after a few minutes, staring at us the whole time.

After and before that I have come across people kissing complete strangers on their cheeks when they meet them. A 50 year old man explaining to me in the office cafeteria with other women around how cachondo in Spanish means both funny and horny. People saying Joder ( fuck) and Puta Madre (son of a bitch) in official meetings. Women sunbathing topless in the city park. People drinking in the street in a street party in front of a police car and a church. That you would greet the bus driver when you get in a bus. The waiter / waitress did not act like a lowly servant to you and asked you to wait if he / she is very busy. It was ok to say that you are going on holiday and will not work between these days.

You could buy alcohol at the supermarket. People will drink a beer in the afternoon meal and get back to working and meetings. There was no women seat or compartment in the metro. People will make out and / or have sex with random strangers they met in a disco and it was completely safe to do so. So many people were living together and had kids but were not married. You don’t go a friend’s house to meet for drinks, you go out to a bar. There was a cutout of a naked pregnant woman on a pharmacy by the side of the road with only her leg covering her genitals. Government workers were nice, they smiled and tried to help you. I can go on and on with a probably a hundred more examples. Though I guess after 5 years travelling around Europe I have kind of gotten numb to it, but below are some of the biggest examples that I saw in Europe travelling, all aggregated.

Europe –

We were in Valencia, on a group tour kind of thing with some other English speaking students, most of them were Erasmus students. If you do not know the Erasmus program, I will give you the introduction, it is a grant through which EU students normally do a semester in another country to experience a different culture. But for most, it means just nonstop parties for six months, in a different country, which I think it should. So back to my story, so we were with these students in a hotel room getting our pre-drinks in before heading out to club, when the students started to play ‘Never have I ever’, they talked about Threesomes, sex in moving vehicles, sex in public places, anal sex, sex with a teacher,  hostel rooftop orgies, sex on drugs, sex with best friend’s girl/boyfriend. Needless to say, I left that room without taking a sip of my beer. Never had I ever felt that my life was so boring and a complete waste.

I was with my wife in Amsterdam, we wanted to try out their famous coffeeshops, so I asked my walking tour guide for a recommendation and walked coyly into one. I hesitatingly asked if they had a space cake, not sure if she would say I’m calling the police or take me to some secret back room. She however replied, yes of course we do, would you like one. I nodded and she got me one from the counter as she was handing one over she perhaps saw the child like glee on my face and asked if I have smoked hash before. I replied in the negative feeling accused. They she looked me straight in the eye and said “Sweetheart then I would recommend only eating a quarter”. She was right, a quarter of that was enough to make me look like this.

The last and weirdest for me was Oktoberfest in Munich, not the actual fest or the tents, but the campsite we were staying at. Oktoberfest in Munich is an insane time, the cheapest hotel per night is 800 Euros, the city is just drowning in tourists and their public urination. Every day some kind of record is made of stupidity, I remember our second day there when some guys climbed a pillar in the middle of the city totally naked and passed out there till the police got them down. Anyways, so we were staying in a campsite on another group tour which had mostly students in it. The campsite had public showers where you will get hot water by inserting a token for fifteen minutes. No surprise that the showers were crowded as well, what was surprising for me though were four Italian guys were just casually chatting there, in front of the shower stalls, totally naked with their thing hanging out. I froze for a second seeing that, till they casually pointed to a stall and said “l'ultimo è libero”. And oh yes, on the last day at the campsite we saw a panty exchange dare. It was exactly what I named it, two very drunk girls got on a stage in nothing but their panties, as part of some game of dare for prizes, got their panties off and exchanged it with the other girl, giggling and laughing throughout it while the crowd applauded and cheered them on. I had seen the ‘Girls gone wild videos’ on the internet, but until now I always thought those things were staged.

Germany –

My time here is just beginning but I was already shocked to find out that apartments here do not have numbers, your postbox and the call bell only work with your name on it. Another strange thing to me that is all household take turns of cleaning out the apartment building week by week and that includes washing the communal dust bins and even cleaning out the sidewalk in front of the building.

Thailand –

I almost forgot about Thailand. In Thailand the hotel receptionist very earnestly explained what to do when you bring a prostitute over, that the girl (or ladyboy if you are into that, or rather they would be into you, but whatever) will leave her ID card with them when she goes up to the room, they will call you when she is leaving to check if she stole something and if you need any recommendations of good brothels they would write them down for you. And finally, yes, you do get fried insects as a late-night snack on food carts in Thailand. Yuck!