There are only two ways to offend my Indian sensibilities. First, you can point out that my English is “very good.” English is the only language I speak with any degree of competence, so if my English weren’t “very good,” I wouldn’t be able to get myself understood, ever.
The second way is to tell me that you’ve “always wanted to go to India” to find yourself, discover its ancient wisdom, or some variation thereof. Let’s get one thing straight: Indian “wise” men are no wiser than any others, they’re just better at marketing.
I blame The Beatles. Sure, “enlightenment tourism,” as Professor Ritu Birla, Director of the Centre for South Asian Studies at U of T, calls it, has been around since before the Fab Four made their pilgrimage to my country in the 1960s. The idea of the mystical and ancient wisdom of the East goes back to the Orientalist school of thought that portrayed India as an exotic, romantic place of enlightenment.
India is not exotic and it’s not particularly romantic (even the Taj Mahal has a limited “wow” factor from up close). I’d argue that the country’s failure to deal with the greater-than-half of the population below the poverty line suggests that it’s not that institutionally wise either. There’s no storehouse of ancient wisdom that gets passed from generation to generation of Indians — or if there is, I certainly missed out when it was my turn!
Maybe you don’t think all Indians are inherently wise — that would be racial or national stereotyping after all. But the gurus and wise men that you’re going to India to seek out aren’t really much wiser than the average Indian either; they’re just good PR people. Salesman, marketer, entrepreneur — these labels fit the modern guru better than “spiritual teacher.” I’m a spiritual skeptic as a general rule, so I’m not going to pretend that my bias against the idea of some greater power or knowledge doesn’t play a role here.
Enlightenment tourism is an industry in and of itself in India. Foreigners swarm cities like Jaipur and Jhodpur seeking opium to lead them to “enlightenment” and a guru to show them the way. But they’re also just ordinary tourists to the hotels, restaurants, and other businesses that benefit from their presence. They’ll treat you well, because if there’s another thing Indians are known for, it’s hospitality. These places are no different from, say, Niagara Falls. Both use their natural resources or reputation of their culture and geography to make money from tourists.
Here’s another thing: if enlightenment is possible (and a lot of people genuinely think it is), then I don’t see why you have to go to India to attain it. Sure, the “East” first named moksha and nirvana, and created a framework for explaining the need for release from the cares of everyday life. Yet nowhere in the canon of “Oriental” religions is there a requirement to “find” yourself under a tree somewhere in rural India. If you’re searching for enlightenment, you’re just as likely to get there in a subway car in Toronto as in a village on the South Asian subcontinent.
You may find India exotic, but I’ve lived there for all but two years of my life, so forgive me if the magic is a little lost on me. It’s not that I don’t feel attached to the land of my birth, but separation from it hasn’t changed my ability to look at it clearly and critically.
So do me a favour: if you want to find yourself, take the money you’re planning to use to make that trip to India and send it to an NGO working to help bring the living standards of the people there to some decent standard. Then go outside and do something for the people of your own community — you may find that they are wiser than you think.
