By Kalpana SK
As the plane landed in India, tears rolled down my face. I made it, I thought. I finally brought my kids to the country I was born in. A world I had embraced for the first ten years of my life, an experience I could never put into words alone. I could finally show them the place I once called home.
The feelings of triumph intertwined with nostalgia were sitting real with me. Along with a sense of new beginnings.
Sitting beside me were my seven-year-old daughter, four-year-old son, and my husband. I could tell each was having their own unique moment about finally landing in India, much like I was having mine.
As a child, we went back to India every two to three years. But it had been eleven years. It felt like new waters.
This journey to India had been a long time in the making and it was also a special trip for me as my parents, siblings, and nephews were all going to India with us for the first time.
Leading up to this trip I had many different thoughts.
Firstly, I was curious about how much India had changed in eleven years. How the people lived now and how tourists (or expats) could navigate around. I was eager to taste the food. But most importantly, I was eager to see my Nani (my grandma).
Secondly, added to the curiosity was this sense of anxiousness that I feel from time to time about willingly or unwillingly putting my kids in a situation that is going to be foreign to them. Out of their comfort zone so to speak. Yet I knew they were beyond excited to go to India.
I wondered would the kids connect with India, the place I once felt so connected to? They had heard about it, but how would being in their ancestral country be for them?
Thirdly, I thought about how my own connection to India might have changed? Would it feel foreign or familiar?
Lastly, I wanted to know the end before we began. What of India would I bring back home to Australia? What would my kids bring back with them and hold in their hearts, minds and experiences? How would we all feel about India?
I was taken aback by the friendliness and the welcome we received from all the officials at Indian customs. “Man I love this country” were the words that came out of my husband’s mouth.
The kids looked right at home. What was I so apprehensive about?
Touching down in India felt like a cultural shock but in a good way. From the big Indian welcome by our family members, to the hospitality of the hotel staff, to the hustle and bustle – the traffic, to the unspoken understanding between all occupying the road, and the vastly different ways of living that exist there.
I also noticed how much India had changed in just a decade. There were malls/shopping centres everywhere I went. The brands that existed in these malls were global brands and very hip/chic Indian ones. My favourite were the cafes! They were right on par with the world.
I wondered what my kids were experiencing. I was eager to know, but I also didn’t want to bombard them with too many questions. I wanted them to soak it all in, I wanted to give them space to process this for themselves.
So instead, I settled for “Welcome to India you guys!!!!” with tears ready to roll down my face again.
One morning, I sat quietly observing a restaurant filled with tourists, locals, and us. I saw people from all over the world eating their meals with ease and drinking filtered water with ease. No tourist looked nervous about eating at a local café. I was sitting but was quiet from the shock.
Back in the day, food and water concerns/safety/worries were a thing. Home food, with a hint of Pizza Hut and McDonalds and some highly trusted Indian restaurants were considered safe. Bottled or home-boiled water was the only way of surviving when in India.
Being extra cautious with food and water was a trend that many family friends followed. Like an unspoken bond we all shared.
When it was time to leave the restaurant and head to our next destination – Uber was a close friend, with wait times only being a few minutes at worst! In some cities the Uber situation was unreal. It was so easy to get around as a tourist.
In other cities, reliance on auto-rickshaws that were on the streets or expensive car/driver hire services were the only way to transport ourselves. But whatever the pick – I just felt at ease.
I think it is safe to say I was feeling more and more confident (and free) about being a second-generation Indian/Aussie taking the third-generation back to India. I was finding my feet, I was learning the ropes in this ‘new’ India.
In our hotel room one night – I recall telling carefree childhood stories to my children about my time in India. From riding all the roller coasters even though I had motion sickness (would just regret it after), to learning how to ride a motorbike on one of the many trips back (don’t ask me how far I actually drove on my own), reminiscing of the past warmed my heart.
Coming into India, my husband and I acted like risk-averse parents for our kids first trip to India. We wanted this to be a good first experience for them. Our only template was how things were for us growing up.
But one thing I didn’t realise was that my own stories of growing up were full of risk.
Our kids showed us that they were embracing every part of the experience that was India. And loving it. They were experiencing full-fledged freedom, the Indian kind.
My daughter was very fond of the auto-rickshaws. As much as I wanted to travel in the safety of a car, she wanted to get out there and get right into an auto every time we stepped out, something I used to love when I was a kid.
My son loved the hustle and bustle. The thriving streets we drove in, the thriving malls we visited, the historical places filled with tourists. The same hustle and bustle I once loved as a kid.
In our hotel room one night, the kids started to chat to each other “What do you like about India?” “I love the sweets” “I loved meeting all the family” “I want to go to a book store to read about Indian history” “I want to go to buy Indian toys”…..”Mmmmuuummmm” yelled my four-year-old. “Where can we buy Indian toys?”
As with everything in this ‘new’ India, toys were just around the corner.
To top everything off, the kids got to experience a deep ancestral/cultural connection by meeting my Nani (my Mum’s mum) for the first time.
Meeting Nani was a moment of seeing your past connect to your future. Four generations were present in that one room. My Nani, my mum, me and my kids. Different cultures and languages connecting to each other in one place through pure love and joy. So much love and joy.
It was experiences like this that I could never put into words alone, I not only finally showed them – but I got to experience it with them.
On our flight back my son asked if we could live in India for a little while and my daughter said she loved being amongst the culture of the country. “We love India even more Mum, because you were born there!”
My heart totally melted.
Once home, I felt a shift in my connection to India. I felt connected to India in my own unique way. Through this trip, I curated a bond that was true to the cultural values I chose to adopt as an adult. It was refreshing.
I wondered what my kids were thinking.
I decided to put aside what I had taught my kids till now about India and sought answers from their eyes.
I asked them “What did you think of India and what did you feel a connection to?”
Their answers were clear and precise.
They felt connected to and wanted to know more about the rich history, the traditional outfits, the music, the culture, the way of living and the ancient texts that have been around for thousands of years.
And even better – they wanted to go back again and experience more.
Then, a word found me. A word that perfectly describes the process or experience of being in a new country and culture.
The word is acculturation.
I heard about this word in a study conducted by Sunita Bayyavarapu PhD at Monash University. She was researching how Indian immigrant parents adapt to life in Australia.
I reflected on the concept of acculturation that is specific to me. How I changed and evolved as a result of migrating to Australia when I was a child, becoming acculturated here. And how my kids changed and evolved as a result of a three-week trip to India, reconfiguring their acculturated Australian-Indianness.
I see my children talk about India in a different way now – to us, to their friends, to their grandparents. Sort of like speaking from first-hand experience, an experience they are very proud of.
At school, there are lots of activities that encourage children to talk about or showcase their heritage. Each time they arise, I see my children even more confidently include heritage now as a living, breathing thing.
This trip reminded me of the India that was and that is. The India which feels even more real now. The India that can change you because of how it continually changes but holds on to people and traditions that matter, and how travelling there always reflects how you yourself have changed.
Most importantly, the trip gave me an experience of India that was, is, and now will forever be tied to the past and the future of who I am. Both for myself and for my children.
Kalpana SK is the parenting content lead at SAARI Collective. She is an author, yoga teacher and sports enthusiast. She loves all things parenting, and has a keen interest in children’s wellbeing – a passion that she attributes to her two beautiful kids. You can follow her work here and on Instagram.
This article was first published on the SAARI Collective Parenting Hub: saaricollective.com.au/south-asian-parenting-hub/
