As established yesterday, I have been here for 2 weeks now. (Well, 16 days if you are my immigration officer).
Today at lunch, Divya commented on how weird it was having this white American girl in front of her eating rice with her hands. Suma turned and goes, "Ok, so today for the first time, I have realized that you are white."
Divya looked up in mock shock: "Wait - Jen is white?"
I said, "Suma. I have been here 2 weeks. You just realized this?"
Suma explained that she has recognized that people look at us when we were out, but all this time she has been wondering why. And why it seemed to be a different kind of look. Today, it clicked. "They look at you, and then they look at me. It is like they are amazed to be seeing a foreigner, and then wondering what I am doing with you. It isn't just a glance - it is a different kind of look."
This was interesting, as clearly it's something that I realize (and am accustomed to) everywhere I go. It is less this time around, and I think that can be accounted for by an increasing number of expatriates here in Bangalore. But yes, I am still stared at. I was wondering if they ever felt strange being with me, or realized if we are treated differently, but wanted to wait until they said something.
As we walked back to work, we passed through a large group of women heading the opposite direction. We were all acutely aware of their looks, the giggles. "Why does it matter? You're just white."
"Jen, I am going to make you a T-shirt" said Divya. It will say, "I have white skin, and I have blonde hair. But otherwise I am just like you."
Today at lunch, Divya commented on how weird it was having this white American girl in front of her eating rice with her hands. Suma turned and goes, "Ok, so today for the first time, I have realized that you are white."
Divya looked up in mock shock: "Wait - Jen is white?"
I said, "Suma. I have been here 2 weeks. You just realized this?"
Suma explained that she has recognized that people look at us when we were out, but all this time she has been wondering why. And why it seemed to be a different kind of look. Today, it clicked. "They look at you, and then they look at me. It is like they are amazed to be seeing a foreigner, and then wondering what I am doing with you. It isn't just a glance - it is a different kind of look."
This was interesting, as clearly it's something that I realize (and am accustomed to) everywhere I go. It is less this time around, and I think that can be accounted for by an increasing number of expatriates here in Bangalore. But yes, I am still stared at. I was wondering if they ever felt strange being with me, or realized if we are treated differently, but wanted to wait until they said something.
As we walked back to work, we passed through a large group of women heading the opposite direction. We were all acutely aware of their looks, the giggles. "Why does it matter? You're just white."
"Jen, I am going to make you a T-shirt" said Divya. It will say, "I have white skin, and I have blonde hair. But otherwise I am just like you."
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