When in Rome...

I am probably one of the few desis in the US who religiously makes a trip to India every year. (Now that I have actually said it, I will probably not go this year. I am jinxed that way. Does that ever happen to you? Once you say / claim something, it ceases to happen..? Ok, I am the only weird one I guess! :) ). That being said, there are several others who make that trip once in a couple of years. Here's something about the American desi traveller that never fails to impress me:

We get out of work early on a Friday, drive at 70mph on the right hand side of the road to WalMart, get done with the perfunctory last minute 'India shopping' (I hate doing that by the way. Over the last 4 years, I have reduced my shopping time from 2 hours to 1 hour to 30 minutes to ZERO!), get back to our apartment complex and park our Honda Accords (Ok, I drive a zippier car, but this is about the regular desi! :P ) in a space clearly delineated by two white strips, crank up the heater (It sure does get a bit nippy in December), stuff our stuff into our fancy Samsonite bags, eat authentic Mexican food that you had the restaurant folks pack for you in a 'to go' box and call it a day. You get to the airport on a Saturday afternoon /evening, hold the door at the entrance for the Texan with a stetson and 24 hours later, you land in India.

And then, just like that, you switch gears!

You get out of your seat before the captain switches off the 'fasten seat belt' sign (I hate it when people do it.), scramble to get ahead in the immigration line, search for your bags in a frenzy on the baggage carousel while keeping an eye on the airline/airport baggage handlers (lest they kidnap your bag or pilfer that $9.95 cologne from it), and walk out into a sea of taxi drivers clamouring for passage, while keeping your fingers crossed that you will find your uncle amidst the chaos. Once the customary greetings / hugs are performed, you step into a 'swanky' Toyota Qualis and experience top speeds of 50 kmph (in the middle of the night) on uneven roads, get to your destination, unload, unpack, distribute gifts, have that fun cup of desi chai and snuggle up in a rug/blanket to avoid the cold and to get a good night's sleep, only to be awakened by the milkman mercilesly pounding on the doorbell.

A completely different culture, norms of living and lifestyle. The average American desi traveller makes the transition effortlessly, almost intuitively. One changes their expectations and behavior as soon as one goes across the Arabian Sea.

And then of course, the exact reverse sequence of events finally brings back DesiMan to his cubicle.

And then again, just like that, he switches gears!

Remarkable indeed. Hats off to you, NRI traveller! :)