#681
Hey everyone, from bustling Bangalore streets to quiet Manchester lanes, and from Shanghai skylines to Sydney suburbs – if you've ever packed a suitcase and stepped into a new world, this one's for you. I'm writing this as someone who's crisscrossed the globe for 30 years, loving the thrill of new horizons but aching at the growing chasm I see between us travelers and the places we visit. Lately, social media has been buzzing with stories that tug at my heart: Indians and Chinese folks abroad getting side-eyed (or worse) for small slips in etiquette, while settled migrants beg their kin back home, "Please, act like the ambassadors we all need you to be." It's a sad ripple in our global family – hate and disengagement toward migrants rising in the West and beyond. Why does this happen? And more importantly, what can we do to mend it? Let's unpack this gently, with no blame, just honest reflections for all of us.
The Heart of the Hurt: Why Do These Moments Multiply?
I've felt it myself – that one awkward chide from my English colleague in Manchester, 2007, after I absentmindedly leaned on a stranger's car. It stung, but it stuck, teaching me volumes about invisible lines we all draw in sand. Over 50+ trips, I've cringed at Indian kids turning flights into echo chambers of screams, parents scrolling away while the rest of us grit our teeth. Or spotting that telltale zigzag merge on freeways, loud phone chats spilling secrets to strangers, music blasting sans earphones, group huddles in tongues that isolate rather than invite. Queue-jumping in lines that feel eternal. And yes, I've noticed echoes of this with Chinese travelers too – not to point fingers, but to wonder aloud.
But why? It's not malice; it's a mismatch of worlds. Growing up in cultures where warmth means volume – think lively Indian markets or animated Chinese family dinners – quiet spaces abroad can feel like a cold shoulder. In India or China, talking loud isn't rude; it's connection. Sharing stories in your mother tongue on a train? It's joy, not exclusion. Yet in the West, where "personal space" is sacred, these feel like invasions. Add the chaos of travel – jet-lagged brains, packed bags, unfamiliar rules – and good intentions fray. For many first-timers, it's simply ignorance: no one told them that a freeway isn't a village road, or that earphones are the unspoken law of shared skies.
Dig deeper, and it's bigger than individuals. Rapid migration waves from booming economies like India and China mean millions arriving yearly, often under pressure to succeed fast. That hustle can blind us to subtleties. Social media amps it up too – one viral video of a queue-jumper, and suddenly "all Indians are like that." Stereotypes stick like glue, fueling disengagement. In places like Canada or Australia, locals already stretched by housing crunches or job shifts see migrants as "taking" rather than "adding." It's a perfect storm: cultural blind spots + travel stress + amplified negativity = walls going up.
And oh, the passport part – that glee in renouncing Indian citizenship I hear from friends abroad, or the impatience to swap it out. It pains me, not as a flag-waver
(I'm no patriot; my anchors are people, not borders, and the non-Indians who've shaped me outnumber the rest). Why the rush? For many, it's escape from red tape back home – endless bribes, crumbling infra, a system that feels rigged against dreamers. A third-world trap? Maybe, where opportunity abroad whispers "freedom" louder than duty calls. Yet, flip the script: Chinese and Vietnamese folks are trickling back, fueled by pride in their nations' rise, building startups in Shenzhen or Hanoi. It's not disloyalty; it's human – chasing stability, respect, a life less encumbered. But when it comes with fanfare, it stings those left behind, widening the emotional gulf.
Bridging the Gap: Simple Steps to Softer Landings
We can't fix the world overnight, but we can start with kindness – to ourselves and others. China’s leading the way with pre-travel "etiquette bootcamps" – short videos, apps, even airport talks on "dos and don'ts" abroad. Imagine India's Foreign Ministry rolling out something similar: a fun app with quizzes on "Freeway Zen" or "Whisper Wins on Planes." Would we listen? I believe yes – we're quick learners when motivated by love for our image, not shame.
Beyond governments, let's lean on communities. Diaspora groups could host "Welcome Abroad" chats – settled Indians in Toronto sharing tips over chai, or Chinese networks in London running role-play sessions. Schools and workplaces back home? Slip in global manners modules, like "Travel Like a Local Hero." For parents on flights, a gentle nudge: earplugs for tots, or games that turn squirms into quiet adventures. And us veterans? Speak up softly – that colleague's lesson changed me; yours could too.
On the flip side, hosts abroad: remember, we're all guests once. A smile over a scowl goes far. Programs like "Migrant Buddy" pairings – locals linking with newcomers for coffee and customs chats – could melt ice faster than rules alone.
For the passport puzzle? Let's reframe return. India could spotlight "Boomerang Builders" – stories of NRIs circling back with skills sharpened abroad, like those EHS pals of mine who might one day trade green cards for green initiatives here. No guilt trips; just inspiration. And for those staying put? Celebrate the global Indian – remitting billions home, bridging worlds. It's not about chains; it's choice.
In the end, this isn't about "fixing" Indians or Chinese – it's about us all tuning into the quiet music of respect. I've always craved that Sunday Bangalore homecoming, chai steaming as jets fade. You? Wherever your heart pulls, let's travel lighter, listen deeper, build bridges not barriers. Because in a world this small, every whisper echoes. What's one etiquette win you've learned abroad? Share below – let's learn together.
With wanderlust and warmth,
Karthik
9th October 2025..(John Lenon would have been just 85 today!! Boy)
9am.
No comments:
Post a Comment