From living in Myanmar independently, to backpacking in Sri Lanka with my best friends, to bouncing around relatives’ homes in India with family, the past month has given me a taste for the many ways to travel and experience a country. Each time I arrive in a new place, regardless of whether it’s absolutely familiar, completely foreign, or somewhere in between, I love the feeling of constantly learning. Every small moment and interaction has something to teach me about the world, about myself, and about how we fit together.
My first stop this holiday season was exploring Sri Lanka with Natasha and Dustin. Given our collective travel experience, our openness to living without many amenities, and our desire to stick to a tight budget, we weren’t shy to jump on the chaotic local buses, eat at the roadside, local restaurants, and stay in small hostels or guesthouses. For the most part, we saw a more authentic picture of Sri Lanka than most tourists. The buses took us through remote hillside villages and exposed us to locals of all walks of life. The local restaurants were simple and tasty, entertaining us with comedic and thoroughly confusing encounters. And the guesthouses, mainly run out of people’s homes, gave us a chance to meet and interact with locals in ways hotels can never offer. In many ways, Sri Lanka is very similar to Kerala, my native place in India. But despite the similarities and the ways in which I felt like I understood the culture and society, I still had plenty of surprising experiences.
Sri Lanka thrives off of tourism and is deeply built around it. There aren’t a lot of industries that bring expats to Sri Lanka, so it’s easy for all foreigners to get pinpointed as tourists. We structured our trip with the goal of seeing Sri Lanka from as local of a perspective as possible, but the tourist track and foreigner treatment were impossible to avoid. We found that several restaurants had separate tourist menus, where the English price was maybe double what was written in Sinhalese. With street vendors, we anticipated being charged inflated prices. Foreigners face this all over the world. Restaurants targeting and fleecing foreigners? That I wasn’t expecting. We intentionally avoided “foreigner friendly” restaurants and hotels, because of the high prices and the overly western atmosphere. But whether it’s for gourmet cuisine or at a roadside restaurant, it seems the mentality that foreigners should pay extra is pervasive. Especially as we gained a sense of what local costs should be, it became increasingly frustrating to know that we were helplessly being ripped off. At the end of our trip, I spent a day with my friend from Sri Lanka, Yohan. When I told him and his friends stories of our struggles, none of them were surprised. Sadly, tourist traps are practically an industry of itself.
Aside from navigating tourism, I was appreciative of the inherently helpful nature of most Sri Lankans. In general, people were eager to share their advice and guide us, whether we asked for the assistance or not. Sometimes it felt intrusive to be frequently approached or given unsolicited suggestions. But culturally it seemed normal to engage with strangers, which ended up benefiting us countless times. We relied on the bus network to get everywhere, and we owe our success to the bus conductors. Initially, we were desperate to get to our next destination and just hoped/prayed they would help. It seemed imminently possible that we would end up somewhere completely random, given the chaotic nature of the process. But I quickly built a surprising amount of trust in the system. Upon entering a bus depot, we would say the name of our desired destination and conductors would direct us to the right bus. Haphazardly, with our large backpacks, we would board the bus and remind the conductor of where we were headed. From that point on, we were in their hands. At transfer points, the bus conductor would arrange our second bus and toss us aboard. Midway through one particular ride, the conductor stopped our bus, flagged down another bus, woke us up, and pushed us onto the waiting bus. They hurried us and shouted, but miraculously we arrived at our desired destination, every time. Another time, our squeaking and squealing bus broke down mid-ride, so the conductor got everyone off, flagged down a new bus, and ushered everyone on. Shortly after, this bus also broke down, and we did the same dance again. The only time buses broke down in the entire trip, it happened twice on the same journey. Regardless, things had a way of sorting themselves out. No one gets hassled by such momentary mishaps.
Beyond just the bus conductors, people seemed generally willing to help strangers. Seated passengers on buses regularly offer their laps to hold the bags and belongings of standing passengers. This was quite useful given the wild driving style of most bus drivers. A family on the train offered the three of us some guavas as she cut them up for her children. I was impressed by her generosity and we gave her some biscuits in return. We stayed in an Airbnb in an idyllic beach town called Polhena (meaning coconut garden) and the hosts welcomed us like their own family. They picked us up from the bus station so we wouldn’t have to worry about directing a taxi at night. They gave us fresh tender coconuts from their garden. They offered other home grown fruits when they saw us in the room. They spent an evening tracking down Dustin’s shoe when a small dog ran off with it into the jungle. Learning about their lives, culture, and perspectives was a unique way to experience the region. Overall, I found myself wondering if there are any situations in which someone in the US would go so far out of their way to look after some lost tourists. I think the reason that there probably aren’t many such situations is the mentality that we are all individuals, existing in our own bubble. If I’m walking around on my own in America, I could go an entire day without really talking to anyone. Here, it was the opposite. Whether we liked it or not, we were talking to people frequently. Everyone is engaged with each other. It can be jarring to go between such different cultural expectations, but I could appreciate the ways in which a mentality of being communal, rather than so individualistic, has its benefits.
Tasha, Dustin, and I definitely didn’t have a traditional Sri Lankan holiday, but we made it special. We aren’t typical tourists, and I love that. Sometimes an afternoon playing cards at a local tea shop and becoming friends with the owner is the perfect way to feel connected to the local culture. Sometimes watching a pack of monkeys is more entertaining than the tourist attraction we were outside of. And sometimes, even after a full day of being tossed around on buses, it’s still magical to be exploring the world with your best friends. From Christmas sunrise on the top of a mountain in the middle of a Buddhist pilgrimage, to New Years around a small campfire on the beach, we celebrated in our own way. I don’t know if we can make it to a mountain every Christmas, but I do hope elements of our adventures become quirky traditions and stick with us for years to come.
After leaving Sri Lanka, I flew to India and met my parents, as they arrived from the US. Our trips in India are always a bit hectic and the experience is nothing like a tourist vacation. We spend time in several cities, but instead of trying to see the cities, our trip is mainly about connecting with as many relatives as possible. Through their eyes, I learn about life in India and current issues. I see what daily life and routine looks like in their world. For my grandparents all struggling with health problems, day to day life is quite negative or monotonous. So we try to bring some energy into their lives and support them to the best of our ability. In the process, we all drive each other a little crazy, but I’ve always admired my parents’ decision to make these trips a priority. Being around my family in India gives me the space to reflect on how my background has played a role in my past and to envision how I want it to play a role in my future.
I was recently asked whether India or America felt more like home. Objectively, I’ve spent more time in the US, I went to school there, I have lived there all my life, and I am American. But I’ve always felt very attached to my roots. From values and family, to culture and food, I feel like an Indian who has been influenced by America, rather than the other way around. Despite the things about India that are frustrating and dysfunctional, I am proud of my culture and background. Of course, there are many aspects of me that have been cultivated and encouraged to shine, as an American. My liberal thinking and confidence, my willingness to take risks or question the norm, and my independence and freedom are some of the most valuable things I have. And even when I know many of my relatives don’t know how to appreciate these aspects of my identity and might even disapprove, I love the feeling of being part of the larger family community. For as long as I can remember, my parents and I have ritually gone and seen certain family members every year we visit, and I find myself wondering what aspects of tradition and connection to family will I be able to carry forward on my own. Being able to visit India on my own has been a big step towards finding my own place within the family, but it will take time to figure out these relationships in my adult life.
I am so grateful to have spent this holiday season with some of the people I care most about in this world, even while being so far from home. That being said, it’s hard not to be nostalgic of the traditions I grew up with and the celebrations that took place at home without me. Regardless of where I am in the world, the holiday traditions that were defining moments of my childhood are still rooted in my heart and bring a smile to my face. But even though these memories will always be part of who I am, this year I experienced the holidays in a new way, as an adult shaping my own life. From decisions small to big, this journey has made me feel grown up and in charge, in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. Professionally, I accepted an opportunity that suddenly relocated me to a new country. I built deeper relationships with my family in India. And I feel more confident in myself, the person I am becoming, and the path I am going down than ever before. I knew I would be faced with countless growth opportunities, but I didn’t realize how deeply empowering each step would be.
Starting in Sri Lanka, the first row of photos shows the progression of sunrise on our Christmas morning hike up Adam’s Peak. The view was incredible, but the crowds were intense.
After Adam’s Peak, we traveled to Kandy. The next row shows the central lake and a particularly stunning sunset.
The next rows, and the title photo, are from the icon train journey from Kandy to Ella. The train was manic, but we pushed our way on and the views/experience were worth it.
From Ella, we made our way directly down to the Southern tip of Sri Lanka. We stopped in Matara, Mirissa, and then spent more time in Galle. The first row shows some of the architecture of Galle Fort and the ocean views. The second row showcases the beginning of a photo-shoot that quickly devolved into absolute silliness.
The next two photos capture some of the downtime we spent at a local tea shop. We played cards there, drank tea, and made friends with the sweet, old lady in charge. Tasha took a particular liking to the black cat that seemed to live there too, and I loved their stare-down when we left.
The next rows are from our last stop, Bentota. We spent New Years here, which consisted of a fresh seafood dinner, campfire on the beach, a picnic of drinks and snacks, reflective moments, a guy randomly throwing rings of fire, fireworks and lanterns lighting up the sky, sparklers of our own, toasts to the future, and impromptu dance parties.
On my last day, I met up with a friend and past colleague, a native Sri Lankan. We toured Colombo, and it wouldn’t be a trip to Sri Lanka without some peaceful photos of the many beautiful Buddhas. Including, a photo of delicious food and the bus-filled streets, two iconic parts of the trip.
And now a few family photos from India. The first row are from the family lunch in Cochin to celebrate my Dad’s and his brother’s birthdays. His brother and family live in Melbourne, so it’s always lovely when we can coordinate our trips in Kerala together.
The next row shows a few photos from an evening trip to the beach.
The following row is from a family gathering in Kottayam, where we visited extended family on my Dad’s side.
The photo on the left is with my grandparents (on my dad’s side) and two of my cousins. On the right is from our stay in Chennai, visiting a longtime family friend of my mom and her family.
