It is an understatement to say that India is a complex nation. It overwhelms your senses, challenges your understanding of social norms, and throws you something new at each turn. Two and a half months is not enough to unravel its mysteries and comprehend its dichotomies, but it is at least enough to experience them and make a few educated conjectures about their origins, meanings, and importance. In this post I attempt to do just that using my experiences in Delhi as a basis. I hope that after reading this, you’ll have a glimpse of what life in Delhi is like for several different classes of people and how it challenges the Western mind to be immersed in it. For those reading who have been in India, I’d really appreciate hearing how your experiences were similar or different and some thoughts and reflections as well. This post will focus just on one part of my experience, namely my interactions with some of Delhi’s upper and middle classes. In later posts, I will look at the other segments of Delhi’s life I saw and try to piece together some thoughts about this diverse and interesting nation.
In my time in Delhi, the largest continuous chunk of which came after my adventure to Agra, I found myself caught in some ways between different strata of society. Throughout my stay I had been offered free accommodation at the capital’s newest eco-friendly hotel, Green Leaf, in exchange for a bit of English teaching and marketing work—a fair trade in my mind—and in taking this offer had also opened the door to a friendship with the owner and developer. (As an aside, I want to point out that this is a very “Indian” way of doing business—bartering or trading to strike a deal rather than just selling based on a posted price like in the Western world). Throughout my friendship with the owner, I came to learn that he was part of the higher circles of Delhi’s social strata. Having grown up in Delhi the grandson of a transportation magnate, he was educated at some of Delhi’s top secondary schools and universities. Unlike many Indians in the 1970s and 80s, he was able to finish his MBA in the US at the prestigious Harvard Business School.
All of this background is to introduce that when I spent time with the owner, it was not as an average member of Delhi life. On multiple occasions I returned to my hotel via the Metro and my own two feet (my preferred forms of transit for economic, social, and environmental reasons) from meeting an architect to find a car and driver waiting to convey me the two and a half miles to his house—a distance I could easily walk in about the same time as the car took fighting Delhi’s horrendous rush hour traffic (it makes LA look tame—at least we don’t have drivers going the wrong way, making lanes out of nothing, and bumping and grinding one another as part of the normal routine). While bouncing ideas around for new sustainable projects, he and I occasionally dined out, sometimes taking sushi, noodles, freshly prepared chicken curries, or kathi rolls and sometimes also indulging in a glass of wine or a cocktail.
Yet it wasn’t as much being driven around town like a celebrity or dining out that gave me a glimpse at the upper echelons of Delhi society. Instead it was the occasional glimpses into his social calendar or home life that provided insight. It seemed that often when I dropped by the office to chat with him he was out attending some function or other at his old college, or on invitation from a member of his Student’s Association. There was definitely an “Old Boys Club” attitude among those who had been lucky enough to study in his class at university, and these days, the now successful businessmen from that group filled his calendar with constant invitations to cricket tournaments, guest lectures, and golf tournaments (one of which he proudly won).
While I did not have the opportunity to attend any of these events with the owner, I did get a chance to mingle with others in his circle on several occasions at his house. On these visits, I was always received by my host and one of his house “boys” (all of whom were much older than me) and offered coffee, a snack, or a drink at least. On separate occasions, I attended parties at his house, one of which was thrown by his wife and lavishly decorated and catered—there was even top quality jazz saxophone playing by yours truly (that’s how you know it’s a classy party). Though it was obvious from the preparation and decoration that money had been put into these parties, I’m sure the expense would likely pale in comparison to the cost of some parties of the wealthy in the States. There was nothing extremely extraordinary or lavish, but compared to the world just down the road, it was certainly a vast difference. Then again, to be fair, though he is well-off, he is not among the ranks of the super wealthy which is a small and extremely elite group in India that likely can outdo even America’s wealthy in opulence.
Yet the most interesting aspect of these parties was not the decoration but the people. Of course his family members attended, but at the same time there were many friends whose occupations ranged from a couple working at the US Embassy to owners of small and medium-sized companies to high-powered financial and business minds at some of Delhi’s top companies. Conversations ranged from fishing to the new models of Jaguar, and of course politics and recollections from years gone by. On one particular occasion, I recall having drinks with the owner and a friend at his house (a well-known model and actor in India) and was regaled with a story of how this guest had used his influential stature to procure a visa for a friend when the embassy was dragging its feet. From the time he called to the time he had the documents in hand was only a few hours, whereas without his intervention it could have been days before the visa was processed. From his story, I got a glimpse of the importance of connections and influence in Indian society and thought back on all the times he offered for me to stay longer in Delhi promising that the visa would be no issue. This extralegal intervention was intriguing as it shows exactly why many are frustrated with Indian society. Certainly a well-placed call can move papers along in any nation, but the scale of it in India—contacting a powerful acquaintance to pressure on your behalf and getting results in hours despite the law—is tending toward the corruption that many complain plagues the country.
On these nights as well it was interesting to watch the parade of cars and drivers pick up and drop off their guests not because the cars were exotic or incredibly expensive but just because it left me wondering where the drivers would go while their employers were enjoying merriment and revelry. Once inside, the guests and I dined on catered hors-d’oeuvres and drank imported liquor, neither of which were part of my life in Delhi otherwise.
When not in the company of the owner but at the hotel, I spent time with the hotel staff. The managers and office staff were my main friends as they spoke at least some English—the rest of the staff knew only a few words related to their jobs (even with this limited English, however, we occasionally dined together). The owner had told me that many of these employees had come from poorer backgrounds but now were part of the burgeoning middle class in India. Now the middle class in India is an interesting phenomenon that has only arisen really since Dr. Manmohan Singh restructured the economy to eliminate the “Hindu rate of growth” thereby allowing the economy to expand at its own rate. The result has been a greater number of jobs between the lower manufacturing and local services and the top level of businessmen. Yet the middle class is not the same as it is in the US. It is not easy to earn a good wage in India and harder still to move up the social ladder (holdovers of the caste system, even though it is officially illegal, still act as barriers among other things). However for those who do make up part of the middle class, there is a noticeable change in the clothing, goods, and even preferred modes of transport.
For instance, I take my friend the hotel manager as an example. He had come from a lower class background but now, thanks to his job at the hotel, sported a laptop, an old used car that occasionally did not work, a Blackberry phone, and a few new shirts and jackets. Of all of these he was very proud and saw as signs of his increasing status. One day he proudly announced to me as well that his wife was learning how to use the computer at home. Yet despite his changing status, he had not lost his sense of what was most important. He was at his proudest when talking about his daughter and showing me photos or short videos he had taken with the laptop and always worked hard at the hotel.
The manager was not alone in these qualities. Of all of my newer middle class friends, and especially the college students and young professionals I met, there was an interesting mix of traditional values and newer ideals. At the hotel especially, those who had worked hard and could recall worse days continued to work diligently even though they had attained a higher status than they perhaps had ever hoped for as children already. There was reverence for the family—on several occasions one of the staff would be absent while taking care of a family member’s health. Yet at the same time there was a new consumerism and a clear desire for more and more material goods. Anytime I popped out of my room with something in hand they had not previously seen a look of wonder crossed their faces. The glimmer in the eyes of each told me that they were studying the object and dreaming of perhaps having something like that themselves. My computer, camera, and iPod became objects that to them represented a yet higher status that in their minds I could see they were thinking of attaining. It was strange to think about this becoming a trend here in a land where I could wander the streets and buy any knock-off goods I wanted very cheaply (just be careful—I think it’s impossible to buy a 128 GB flash drive for $2, but they will try to sell you exactly that!).
Though interested in this complex issue of a new middle class in India and what consumerism might mean for sustainability and building issues, with my particular friends I was more interested and surprised by flashes of contempt I saw for the lower classes. On one occasion, I accompanied the manager on a sales call to try and drum up more business for the hotel. As we wandered the streets near the property we were approached by a woman in rags begging for money or food. To me it was nothing new at that point. Having been in India for over a month I was used to being begged of (more on that in my next post). Yet to the manager, it was unthinkable that such a woman should beg of us, but more specifically, of me. He became very angry when she persisted and eventually after a bit of yelling we left. The next day he was still visibly upset about it and continuously apologizing to me for the occurrence. I didn’t really know what to think of this particular occurrence. At once it was kind that he felt so protective of me but at the same time, like many in India, this woman didn’t have much option but to beg. I didn’t see the action as unjustifiable or so heinous in comparison to the reality of India that it deserved such a strong rebuke. Perhaps the manager felt that begging is not necessary or even wrong as a way to earn a living (certainly he has found another, better pathway for himself and his family), but even so, his reaction and visible anger was strong for this. I wonder a bit if there was some hidden relic of the caste system or past social structures that played a part in this anger. I don’t have the knowledge either in Hindi (the language in which the exchange took place) nor in the culture to understand if such a motivation exists, but it was just a speculation.
On that note, I think I will leave off for now and continue this in my next post with some thoughts on the lower classes and some musings on the future of social structures and sustainability in India. Again, any thoughts or other observations are greatly appreciated!
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