In search of belonging

A reflection on moving to India

I moved to India in 2022 with my partner and two cats. Before then, I had spent my whole life in the United States. I was born into an Ecuadorian-Nicaraguan family and primarily grew up in Miami.

Since the move, I am constantly asked by family, friends, and strangers — both in India and the U.S. — “How do you like living in India?”

To begin answering this, I want to share two personal stories.

Story 1: A generous Airbnb host

Shortly after moving to India, I had to spend a couple months in Delhi for work. I lived there on my own in a simple yet cozy Airbnb, not really knowing anyone outside of the office. A few weeks into the move, I had dinner with a colleague. On my way home, I experienced what I would later realise was likely a severe migraine. First, my vision blurred. Then, I could not think or communicate coherently, as if my thoughts had jumbled into an alphabet soup. Finally, I experienced an intense headache.

I, being a stubborn male, was confused by the situation but figured it would resolve itself with rest. However, my partner and a couple friends with medical backgrounds were highly alarmed and feared I was possibly experiencing a stroke. They urged me to go to a hospital, but none of us knew Delhi well enough to identify a decent, nearby hospital. Transit was also a concern, as I wasn’t entirely lucid. So, in this moment of crisis, we contacted my Airbnb host, who lived nearby and was a Delhi native.

We hardly knew each other and had hung out once before briefly. Without hesitation, he rushed to his car and took me to the hospital. By the time I got to the hospital, the worst of my symptoms had subsided, but I stayed the night out of precaution given that I lived alone. My Airbnb host stayed with me through most of this period until he was confident it was safe to head back. The next morning, he checked in on me, and his mom prepared food for me.

These individuals were practically strangers to me, but provided me a level of care that is rare in the U.S. However, in India, people can often be this generous and kind.

Story 2: “Latino? I love the Spanish!”

Typically, when I meet people in India, they show obvious confusion about my name, appearance, and accent, but are too shy to ask, “Where are you from?” So, to clear their doubts, I have developed a habit of explaining upfront that I was born in the U.S. and am of Latin American origin. Funnily, people usually assume that I am partially Indian because I can pass for Indian and because it’s rare for a man to adopt their wife’s surname.

Anyways, about a year ago, I was on a work call with a woman who led an organisation I was exploring a partnership with. She was well-educated, urbane, and highly accomplished. When I introduced myself, as I often do, I mentioned that I had recently moved from the U.S. and am Latino.

In response, this woman, without hesitation, replies, “Oh my God, I just recently came back from Spain. I love Spanish people! They are so friendly!”

I will admit, I was tempted to say something witty or sarcastic, like “I would not know,” but I was reluctant to embarrass this person just for my petty satisfaction. Instead, I simply smiled, said “that’s nice” and moved the conversation along.

Personally, this is a very typical experience in India. Few people have any clue what “Latino” or “Latin American” means, let alone can identify Nicaragua or Ecuador on a map. Most people’s familiarity with the region starts and ends with Mexico or Brazil. This especially applies to working class Indians I encounter (e.g. drivers or retail workers), but extends to elite, educated Indians like the one I met on the call.

To be clear, I don’t hold any anger or resentment towards these individuals. It would not be fair to expect differently from Indians when people from the Americas (i.e. North, Central, South America) are equally ignorant of Indians. However, I have to admit that it hurts to constantly feel alien and othered, even with the great kindness and warmth I otherwise experience in India.

How do I find belonging?

In many ways, life in India has been profoundly enriching. Family and community ties are deep and stand in stark contrast to the lonely individualism of the U.S. Ordinary people are capable of great generosity and decency just because. Of course, I say this from a highly privileged standpoint of being male, fair skinned, educated, and wealthy. Inequality and prejudice are severe issues in India and, because of my high status, I am afforded special treatment and deference. Still, I am in awe of the warmth I regularly encounter in India.

Further, in honor of this new place I call home, I have worked hard to educate and integrate myself, rather than being an ignorant foreigner. For instance, with regard to food, I comfortably enjoy Indian spice, eat with my hands, and cook a range of Indian dishes. I have traveled to various parts of the country and witnessed its stunning diversity, and picked up a little Hindi to get around. In and outside of work, I strive to inform myself of political, social, and cultural life in the country. Recently, I’ve even been told by a couple individuals that my accent is “Indianizing.”

In recognition of how well I have adapted, family and friends sometimes remark that I am quickly “becoming Indian.” On the one hand, this gives me great pride because it makes me feel accepted. However, on the other, I sometimes ask what I have sacrificed in exchange. I cannot deny that I miss mi gente, cultura, idioma, y comida (people, culture, language, and food).

When I imagined leaving the U.S., I had a naive dream that I could be a “global citizen” in the sense that I could find joy and community wherever I go. Moving to India has shown me that this is far more complex than I imagined, even as the net outcome has still been overwhelmingly positive.

Contemporarily, the main question I grapple with is, “How do I find a sense of belonging in the absence of my cultural connections?” I don’t have a clear answer to this and maybe never will, but I am excited for the journey. Thank you to those who have shown me kindness, patience, and curiosity along the way.