This fall I'll be writing a piece for the Rice Standard that will analyze the similarities and differences between China and India. That article will be considerably longer than this blog post, but I thought I'd post a "sneak peak" of what that article will look like.
In a 10 month period I've been through countries that represent over 42% of the world population (China, India, United States, and South Korea). The largest of these, China and India, both contain over a billion people, and the two Asian supergiants are both emerging as major players in the world economy. The differences and similarities between the two are fascinating, and after visiting both countries and seeing the major similarities and differences, I wanted to post an examination of where the two nations currently stand, and where I feel like they'll be in the future. Certainly this is a very important issue to us as Americans, because the way the two countries interact with us defines how our economy runs.
First, I might mention some similarities. First of all, it's unbelievable to see the amount of construction going on in both countries. Especially as you go out from the cities, construction cranes dot the horizon. The difference seems to lie not so much in the amount of construction, but in what is being constructed. China specializes in the production of cheap goods. Indeed, whole cities are often devoted to the production of a single product. India produces products as well, but as we're all aware, it's probably more likely to here the thick Indian accent on the other end of the phone when calling for customer support for your electronics than it is to see "Made in India" on the back of that same device. Conversely, few of us have heard a Chinese voice answering tech support, whereas "Made in China" is ubiquitous on all our products.
China and India are both trying to eat up market sure in all sorts of ways. They have both had varying degrees of success, but with very different methods. Both countries have very different but very ancient pasts, and both have had difficulty in coming to terms with the West. However, they both have come to their present success in very different ways.
Indian civilization dates back to the Indus River valley civilizations, but its history has long been a history of various civilizations encroaching on the subcontinent and establishing foreign rule over the land. This history of foreign occupation dates back to the time of Alexander the Great and moves forward through various other occupations all the way up to the time of the British. In 1948, India became a sovereign state, but it took almost a half a century for it to establish the strength to assert itself as a world power. China, on the other hand, has long been a sovereign nation, and the second half of the 20th century was more or less spent trying to figure out how a communist government could still assert itself with the West.
Today, the Indian economy is free market, capitalist, and in many ways, out of control. The market has complete control over the Indian economy, and it looks like utter chaos. Aside from a small minority of Indian businessmen who have been able to raise substantial capital, most Indians are limited to the little capital they can afford, forcing them to go into a business that infringes on an already saturated market. After all, how many cloth stores can one possibly have on one street? The Chinese economy, by contrast, is one of forced order. The Chinese have become exceedingly efficient (though not perfect) at identifying market forces and capitalizing on success and stamping out failure.
The mindset between the two nations is markedly different. The Indians value the individual (much as we Americans do), such that if someone wants to try something, they have the right to try and do it, no matter how it negatively affects that market as a whole (or at least, how it's perceived to negatively affect the surrounding market). The Chinese value society as a whole, seemingly at the expense of the individual, such that they pick and choose where to place their capitalization.
The question that follows is, "Which one is better?" It's not an easy question, and at this point I'm going to make a shameless plug and leave you hanging--I'll delve much deeper into this question in the fall and further analyze the nations of China and India.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
Home, sweet home
After 36 hours of traveling, a really good burger, and 13 hours of sleep, I am back in the United States. I suppose there's not a whole lot to this post--travel went smoothly, though it was a bit long. I'll post a couple more reflective thoughts to this blog, so this isn't my final post. I had a fantastic summer, but it is really good to be home.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Religion in India
In a single blog post there is no way I can do justice to the topic of religion in India. India is very rich in religious tradition, and without a doubt is a defining part of Indian culture. Both the United States and India are effectively pluralistic with respect religion, though they are dominated by very different religions. Instead of churches and steeples dotting the landscape, little Hindu shrines are omnipresent. Almost completely absent are any signs of Christianity, and despite being the second largest religion in India, we rarely saw an Islamic mosque (and I only heard the muezzin's adhan once in a predominantly Muslim slum).
Hinduism is the most dominant religion in India, but we've found that it largely tends to be a religion of culture, rather than a religion of ideology. In other words, while other religions are often bent into a philosophical worldview, Hinduism does not seem to be perceived in the same way. I don't pretend to understand the nuances of Hinduism, so I'm not going to even try, but it is interesting to see the effects of the religion on India. When the nation of India was formed, it was largely on religions boundaries. As I've noted previously, Pakistan was formed as the Muslim part of British India and India was the Hindu part (with areas like Kashmir being the notable exceptions). Unlike Pakistan, which became an Islamic state, India was officially a secular state from the beginning (the Indian Constitution guarantees religious freedom).
Hinduism originated in India (or rather, it originated in ancient India, since it is essentially the world's oldest religious tradition), but it certainly wasn't the only religion that originated in India. Sikhism, Jainish, and Buddhism all have their roots in India as well. Hinduism is by far the most dominant of the four, but their is little conflict between them, perhaps due to the fact that unlike Islam or Christianity, none of these four religions are proselytizing.
Islam is the country's second largest religion, making India by some counts the world's largest Muslim country. Yet Islam in India is different from the Middle East. Muslim women still dress with the hijab and sometime even more coverings, but by and large, Indian Islam is not of the extremist brand that plagues many Arab countries. Indian Muslims do not seem to have latched onto the extremist terrorist groups that America is in an ideological war with. Perhaps this is a result of a tolerant majority population as well as a relatively stable government and economy. Muslims in India are not driven to hatred of the West, because the West comes to India bearing gifts of call centers and fiber optic cables.
One of the things I personally miss the most about America is the presence of Christianity. There are no churches to be seen here (save for trips to Goa), and I miss going to church. Only about 2% of the population is Christian (making it the third largest religions group in India), and many of those Christians are concentrated in certain areas (e.g., in Goa) where European missionaries had a greater impact. India is also unique in its treatment of Jews. India was one of the first countries to recognize Israeli independence, and was also a haven for those fleeing the Holocaust. As a result, while there isn't a large Jewish population in India, there is a significant enough of one to merit mention. I find it a bit ironic that India maintains such a close relationship with Judaism and Israel when the swastika features prominently on everything from the front of trucks to the doorframes of people's homes. In fairness, the swastika existed in India long before Hitler adopted it and made it forever associated with genocide.
Like most pluralistic countries, India has had its share of religious troubles. For example, the Mumbai riots in 1992 (featured at the beginning of Slumdog Millionaire) aren't exactly a bright spot on India's history. Hinduism is still evolving to adapt to a 21st century world with its concept of the caste system (also made illegal by the Indian Constitution). Yet the dalits (untouchables) are still often left out to dry in this system, and many have converted to Buddhism or Christianity as a way out of their suffering. Mother Teresa was famous for her work in Calcutta (now Kolkata) working with the poor living there and for her work on behalf of the Christian Dalits.
No state is perfect in its treatment of religion. India is a very religious country--very few people are professed atheists or agnostics (none that we interviewed for our study at the hospital), which perhaps reflects the idea that religion reflects your personal identity rather than your concept of how the world works. As I've written previously, your profession helps define your identity as well. It will be interesting to see how India adapts to the Western mindset of a more philosophical form of religion and a more diverse set of moral values. I wonder how Hinduism will change in the future and whether other religions will start to rise in Indian society as the world gets smaller.
Hinduism is the most dominant religion in India, but we've found that it largely tends to be a religion of culture, rather than a religion of ideology. In other words, while other religions are often bent into a philosophical worldview, Hinduism does not seem to be perceived in the same way. I don't pretend to understand the nuances of Hinduism, so I'm not going to even try, but it is interesting to see the effects of the religion on India. When the nation of India was formed, it was largely on religions boundaries. As I've noted previously, Pakistan was formed as the Muslim part of British India and India was the Hindu part (with areas like Kashmir being the notable exceptions). Unlike Pakistan, which became an Islamic state, India was officially a secular state from the beginning (the Indian Constitution guarantees religious freedom).
Hinduism originated in India (or rather, it originated in ancient India, since it is essentially the world's oldest religious tradition), but it certainly wasn't the only religion that originated in India. Sikhism, Jainish, and Buddhism all have their roots in India as well. Hinduism is by far the most dominant of the four, but their is little conflict between them, perhaps due to the fact that unlike Islam or Christianity, none of these four religions are proselytizing.
Islam is the country's second largest religion, making India by some counts the world's largest Muslim country. Yet Islam in India is different from the Middle East. Muslim women still dress with the hijab and sometime even more coverings, but by and large, Indian Islam is not of the extremist brand that plagues many Arab countries. Indian Muslims do not seem to have latched onto the extremist terrorist groups that America is in an ideological war with. Perhaps this is a result of a tolerant majority population as well as a relatively stable government and economy. Muslims in India are not driven to hatred of the West, because the West comes to India bearing gifts of call centers and fiber optic cables.One of the things I personally miss the most about America is the presence of Christianity. There are no churches to be seen here (save for trips to Goa), and I miss going to church. Only about 2% of the population is Christian (making it the third largest religions group in India), and many of those Christians are concentrated in certain areas (e.g., in Goa) where European missionaries had a greater impact. India is also unique in its treatment of Jews. India was one of the first countries to recognize Israeli independence, and was also a haven for those fleeing the Holocaust. As a result, while there isn't a large Jewish population in India, there is a significant enough of one to merit mention. I find it a bit ironic that India maintains such a close relationship with Judaism and Israel when the swastika features prominently on everything from the front of trucks to the doorframes of people's homes. In fairness, the swastika existed in India long before Hitler adopted it and made it forever associated with genocide.
Like most pluralistic countries, India has had its share of religious troubles. For example, the Mumbai riots in 1992 (featured at the beginning of Slumdog Millionaire) aren't exactly a bright spot on India's history. Hinduism is still evolving to adapt to a 21st century world with its concept of the caste system (also made illegal by the Indian Constitution). Yet the dalits (untouchables) are still often left out to dry in this system, and many have converted to Buddhism or Christianity as a way out of their suffering. Mother Teresa was famous for her work in Calcutta (now Kolkata) working with the poor living there and for her work on behalf of the Christian Dalits.No state is perfect in its treatment of religion. India is a very religious country--very few people are professed atheists or agnostics (none that we interviewed for our study at the hospital), which perhaps reflects the idea that religion reflects your personal identity rather than your concept of how the world works. As I've written previously, your profession helps define your identity as well. It will be interesting to see how India adapts to the Western mindset of a more philosophical form of religion and a more diverse set of moral values. I wonder how Hinduism will change in the future and whether other religions will start to rise in Indian society as the world gets smaller.
Monday, July 27, 2009
A trip to the world's largest city
Mumbai, or Bombay as it was formerly known, is a teeming metropolis that is unlike any city I've ever visited. I commented while I was there that it was like New York City in the tropics, but that's only part of the story. Mumbai has an identity all its own, from the slums of Dharavi to the expensive waterfront apartments. Despite its terrible climate and smog-choked streets, people flock to the city in hopes of a better life and a higher income.Getting around the city during the monsoon season is a I don’t think any trip to India is complete without a trip to Mumbai. Formerly known as Bombay, the world’s largest megacity is the epicenter of Indian culture, society, and commerce. We hardly had a chance to dig deep into the city’s underbelly and experience its nightlife. However, we were offered the opportunity to visit the city and get a brief glimpse of what the city looks like.
Mumbai is quite frankly unlike any other city I’ve ever experienced. It’s a far grittier than any Western larger city, with the city bursting at the seams with its massive population grinding out their lives. As soon as we got into the city, it was immediately noticeable by the amount of traffic. The streets of Pune seemed absolutely tame compared with the number of cars and the number of people all trying to get around. The situation has led to a whole host of infrastructure problems. During the monsoon season, the city is prone to flooding, which leaves transportation at an utter standstill. Just going a few kilometers can take hours. Recently, progress has been made in improving infrastructure, most notably with the addition of a 3-mile-long bridge over the Arabian Sea that connects the Mumbai suburbs with the mainland.
Upon arrival to central Mumbai, we saw exactly what every tourist coming through Mumbai is supposed to see: the Hotel Taj Mahal and the Gateway of India. Neither of these structures is a particularly remarkable architectural achievement, and they draw their significance from some of the key events that surround them. The Gateway of India was built about a hundred years ago to commemorate the arrival of the British Royalty. Ironically, the last British troops to leave India left through the Gateway of India in 1948.
The Hotel Taj Mahal, unfortunately, bears little resemblance to the famous landmark in Agra, but it is significant in its own right. The hotel is the flagship of the Taj Hotel system, which is known for some of the top hotels in India (the hotel we stayed at in Goa was a Taj hotel), and without a doubt is one of the most famous hotels on earth. Unfortunately, fame in today’s world is not always a good thing. Like New York City’s two most famous towers, pro-Pakistani extremists targeted the hotel along with seven other locations in an act of terrorism against the Indian people. We remember the day the Twin Towers Fell as 9/11. Indians remember the Mumbai attacks, which left at least 173 killed on November 26 of last year as 26/11.
Like the response to our own terrorist attacks, there has been an increased sense of patriotism in the country, as well as a far greater sense of vigilance. Security guards and their metal detectors are posted outside virtually every mall, hotel, and high-rise building. For the most part, their jobs entail stopping camera-happy tourists like myself from taking pictures of “strategic” areas (read: nice office buildings) and using mirrors to look underneath cars. In addition, memorials have been placed in memory of the attacks and the people they killed.
Our next stop was another location of the Mumbai terrorist attacks: Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus (formerly Victoria Terminus). Fortunately, despite being the location of the brutal terrorist attacks of last year, the railway station is far more well known for another important role: it’s the railway station in Slumdog Millionaire. I don’t think it can fully be expressed in the movie what this station is like—it’s an absolute madhouse. when a train arrives you just see people start pouring out and the previously empty platform becomes a swarming mass of humanity.
Perhaps this, more than anything, sums up what Mumbai is like. Mumbai is overpopulated, choked by poor infrastructure and pollution, and has a stifling climate. Yet despite all of that, Mumbai is in a very real way the crown jewel of the Indian subcontinent. It is the epicenter of the culture of India. Bollywood and the hundreds of movies it makes every year is in Mumbai, and the high rent district along the waterfront is occupied by wealthy Indian businessmen and celebrities just a few miles from some of the largest slums on Earth. It is also the economic center of India, with many of India’s largest and most famous companies based in the city and 40% of India’s foreign trade going through Mumbai.
In conclusion, I couldn’t help but recognize the vast contradiction that Mumbai lives in. It’s a city that is undoubtedly one of the most cosmopolitan in India and certainly seems more “Western” in its attitude (at least compared to Pune), but still has an infrastructure that was outdated decades ago. It’s a city where we saw a Bollywood movie star being interviewed in the shadow of some of the most expensive property in the country just a couple hundred yards from where a young woman with a child was begging for money to feed themselves. However, it is no different in the fact that like all cities, it has its problems that need to be fixed. In spite of this, a trip to Mumbai was well worth the visit, and I’m very glad we were able to do it.
India's gift to me
I sincerely apologize for my brief hiatus. I have lots of half-written posts I'm eager to finish and put online. All it's going to take is a little motivation on my part. Unfortunately, the past few days have been spent fighting some of the nastier little microbes India has to offer. Thus, I've been unable to put the time and effort into my latest post regarding our recent trip to Mumbai.
Aside from the various illnesses we've contracted while we're here, India has had a few other gifts for us. One is compliments of our dhobis--slightly browner and (in the case of my socks) slightly longer clothing. Another is compliments of a different power supply and a cheap power converter: a room that is starting to get more and more full of electronic devices that no longer work (currently on the list of casualties: a DSLR camera, 2 cell phones, and an iPod that seems to be a bit finicky).
I aim to post a few more posts before I leave for home Wednesday night, and then once I get back hopefully I'll have the time (and more importantly, the motivation) to put in a couple final posts with reflections on the trip. It's hard to believe that this summer is almost over, and while we're anxious to get home, it will be a bittersweet departure from India.
Aside from the various illnesses we've contracted while we're here, India has had a few other gifts for us. One is compliments of our dhobis--slightly browner and (in the case of my socks) slightly longer clothing. Another is compliments of a different power supply and a cheap power converter: a room that is starting to get more and more full of electronic devices that no longer work (currently on the list of casualties: a DSLR camera, 2 cell phones, and an iPod that seems to be a bit finicky).
I aim to post a few more posts before I leave for home Wednesday night, and then once I get back hopefully I'll have the time (and more importantly, the motivation) to put in a couple final posts with reflections on the trip. It's hard to believe that this summer is almost over, and while we're anxious to get home, it will be a bittersweet departure from India.
Friday, July 24, 2009
India's Social Class System
There are many things about America that we've come to appreciate while here in India. One thing that I've come to appreciate is America's social dynamics. This has become particularly apparent in the way we approach interviewing patients. There is nothing weird about asking someone what their profession, monthly income, and religion. In the United States, such questions would be patently offensive. After almost eight weeks here, I feel like I've come to realize to a small degree the reason behind this cultural phenomenon.
Part of this is just a sense of cultural openness. In a country of over a billion people, many of whom are clustered into some of the most densely populated urban areas on earth (19 of the world's 50 most densely populated cities are in India). Being in such constant close contact with people is bound to lessen the sense of "personal space," both in the concrete and the abstract. However, I think that this idea of openness runs much deeper than any recent demographic changes in India.
India has long been known for its caste system. While the caste system still persists to some degree (on several occasions people have identified themselves as coming from a particular caste to me), it is by and large absent from the cities. Originally, there were four castes (priests, warriors, traders, and servants) with a fifth un-caste, the untouchables. The Indian Constitution makes the caste system illegal, but the ideas that were driven into Indian society by the caste system are still alive and well today.
The fact is that in India, people really do seem to be identified by their career. In other words, their job defines who they are as a person and what they have done with their life. For example, the role of the driver is to be a driver in life. He may work from 9-5 (or whenever he's needed), but from 5-9, he's still "a driver." He will never occupy the same social circles as the people he drives. It has taken a significant amount of getting used to, because when we first met Vishnu, our driver, we saw him as less of a driver and more of a potential friend (seeing as how he was literally the first person we met in India). However, the driver and the driven aren't ever friends. They serve their respective roles, but never cross paths otherwise. Likewise, the dhobi and the rickshaw driver are identified by being a dhobi and a rickshaw driver, not as being ordinary human beings.
This system means that far more than in the United States, your job defines your past, your present, and your future. Drivers and dhobis are treated like dirt (at least compared to how such corollary workers in the United States might be treated). This isn't perceived as a bad thing, by either the workers or by the people they serve. It is simply the way things are. The system results from a serious lack of social mobility. Someone in America might be the son of a coal miner or the daughter of a cleaning lady and grow up to be a NASA engineer or a Supreme Court justice. In India, something like that is still possible, but it seems that your parents’ relative position in society largely determines what your position in society will be, often irrespective of talent and motivation.
This situation is actually really sad. After all, Vishnu is just as much a human being as you or I, despite the fact that we have more money or education than he does. Yet this lack of social mobility is probably partly a result of the fact that there are only so many economic niches someone can fill. When there are so many people living in so small an area with so few opportunities, there is far less opportunity to rise in the ranks of social classes. Not everyone can be doctors and engineers, and this is reflected in the fact that admission to medical colleges and engineering schools makes admission to Harvard look easy.
The American system has its own disadvantages and advantages. In the United States, where anyone can become anyone, there is a heightened sense of undeserved entitlement. This has led to all sorts of problems (including, for example, health care), but it has also allowed for social mobility. In addition, it also means that whatever someone may do during the week is largely forgotten outside of the workplace. In the evening after work, you’re no longer a salesman or a IT professional, but an ordinary citizen relaxing with friends and family. I think we call this idea of social mobility the “American dream.” India faces an enormous problem in trying to create the level of social mobility achieved in the United States. It will take an immense effort on the part of the Indian government to make high-quality education much more widely available. It will take decades, if not generations, to remove the implicit idea that the worth of a person is encapsulated in their job and salary.
Social stigmas are a big part of any culture, and India is no exception. India has a burgeoning middle class, but in order to keep it growing and increase the status of all Indians, it’s going to have to address the heart of the problems here. To a large degree, that will mean people from higher classes are going to have to reach down to offer a hand to those who they never would have considered looking at a decade ago. I hope to see the 21st century India a country of prosperous growth and social mobility. For those of us in the United States, we ought to be thankful for the social mobility we enjoy as Americans, not feel entitled to something more than we’ve earned.
Part of this is just a sense of cultural openness. In a country of over a billion people, many of whom are clustered into some of the most densely populated urban areas on earth (19 of the world's 50 most densely populated cities are in India). Being in such constant close contact with people is bound to lessen the sense of "personal space," both in the concrete and the abstract. However, I think that this idea of openness runs much deeper than any recent demographic changes in India.
India has long been known for its caste system. While the caste system still persists to some degree (on several occasions people have identified themselves as coming from a particular caste to me), it is by and large absent from the cities. Originally, there were four castes (priests, warriors, traders, and servants) with a fifth un-caste, the untouchables. The Indian Constitution makes the caste system illegal, but the ideas that were driven into Indian society by the caste system are still alive and well today.
The fact is that in India, people really do seem to be identified by their career. In other words, their job defines who they are as a person and what they have done with their life. For example, the role of the driver is to be a driver in life. He may work from 9-5 (or whenever he's needed), but from 5-9, he's still "a driver." He will never occupy the same social circles as the people he drives. It has taken a significant amount of getting used to, because when we first met Vishnu, our driver, we saw him as less of a driver and more of a potential friend (seeing as how he was literally the first person we met in India). However, the driver and the driven aren't ever friends. They serve their respective roles, but never cross paths otherwise. Likewise, the dhobi and the rickshaw driver are identified by being a dhobi and a rickshaw driver, not as being ordinary human beings.
This system means that far more than in the United States, your job defines your past, your present, and your future. Drivers and dhobis are treated like dirt (at least compared to how such corollary workers in the United States might be treated). This isn't perceived as a bad thing, by either the workers or by the people they serve. It is simply the way things are. The system results from a serious lack of social mobility. Someone in America might be the son of a coal miner or the daughter of a cleaning lady and grow up to be a NASA engineer or a Supreme Court justice. In India, something like that is still possible, but it seems that your parents’ relative position in society largely determines what your position in society will be, often irrespective of talent and motivation.
This situation is actually really sad. After all, Vishnu is just as much a human being as you or I, despite the fact that we have more money or education than he does. Yet this lack of social mobility is probably partly a result of the fact that there are only so many economic niches someone can fill. When there are so many people living in so small an area with so few opportunities, there is far less opportunity to rise in the ranks of social classes. Not everyone can be doctors and engineers, and this is reflected in the fact that admission to medical colleges and engineering schools makes admission to Harvard look easy.
The American system has its own disadvantages and advantages. In the United States, where anyone can become anyone, there is a heightened sense of undeserved entitlement. This has led to all sorts of problems (including, for example, health care), but it has also allowed for social mobility. In addition, it also means that whatever someone may do during the week is largely forgotten outside of the workplace. In the evening after work, you’re no longer a salesman or a IT professional, but an ordinary citizen relaxing with friends and family. I think we call this idea of social mobility the “American dream.” India faces an enormous problem in trying to create the level of social mobility achieved in the United States. It will take an immense effort on the part of the Indian government to make high-quality education much more widely available. It will take decades, if not generations, to remove the implicit idea that the worth of a person is encapsulated in their job and salary.
Social stigmas are a big part of any culture, and India is no exception. India has a burgeoning middle class, but in order to keep it growing and increase the status of all Indians, it’s going to have to address the heart of the problems here. To a large degree, that will mean people from higher classes are going to have to reach down to offer a hand to those who they never would have considered looking at a decade ago. I hope to see the 21st century India a country of prosperous growth and social mobility. For those of us in the United States, we ought to be thankful for the social mobility we enjoy as Americans, not feel entitled to something more than we’ve earned.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
The Language Barrier
Before we left for India, we were assured that everyone in the hospital spoke English just fine. And to be sure, the staff does know English, and indeed, cannot work without it, since virtually all the records are written in English. The only time Marathi (or Hindi--I never know which one they're using) is used seems to be when the patient or the patient's family would need to see it. However, that doesn't mean that we can always understand what is going on. Most of the conversations between people at the hospital is in some language we don't understand, and nearly all conversations with patients is in the patient's native tongue.
India has more English speakers than any other country in the world, so long as you use the term "English speaker" loosely. English is indeed becoming more and more prevalent, but Indian English is much different from American English, to the point where Indian English is sometimes unintelligible. In addition, many people have simply a cursory knowledge of English--enough to read and write patient records and pass their English courses in school, but not good enough to carry on a good conversation with American English speakers like ourselves.
A large component of our research relies on face-to-face interviews with the patient's families. This becomes difficult when the patient doesn't speak English and we have to use a translator. Sometimes we have difficulty communicating through them, which throws a bit of a loop into our study. Even simple questions like "How many children do you have" becomes impossibly difficult. I had a bit of a sick pleasure when I started watching the exasperated doctors try to communicate with the Iraqi family here for treatment, as they share no common language with anyone at the hospital.
The language barrier has been difficult to overcome, because it's hard to get involved when you don't understand what's going on. What it has taken on our part is the motivation to ask what's going on, repeat as necessary, and if they still don't understand, leave it be and move on to the next subject. In the future, I suspect that this problem will become smaller and smaller as more and more Indians learn English better and better. Language is indeed a powerful tool, and it's clear that mastery of it is a key to (or perhaps result of) success. The fact that English is the language of medicine has allowed us to have a far better understanding of what we're seeing than we would otherwise, and the fact that English is not the spoken language of the majority made me painfully aware of my own monolingual-ness.
India has more English speakers than any other country in the world, so long as you use the term "English speaker" loosely. English is indeed becoming more and more prevalent, but Indian English is much different from American English, to the point where Indian English is sometimes unintelligible. In addition, many people have simply a cursory knowledge of English--enough to read and write patient records and pass their English courses in school, but not good enough to carry on a good conversation with American English speakers like ourselves.
A large component of our research relies on face-to-face interviews with the patient's families. This becomes difficult when the patient doesn't speak English and we have to use a translator. Sometimes we have difficulty communicating through them, which throws a bit of a loop into our study. Even simple questions like "How many children do you have" becomes impossibly difficult. I had a bit of a sick pleasure when I started watching the exasperated doctors try to communicate with the Iraqi family here for treatment, as they share no common language with anyone at the hospital.
The language barrier has been difficult to overcome, because it's hard to get involved when you don't understand what's going on. What it has taken on our part is the motivation to ask what's going on, repeat as necessary, and if they still don't understand, leave it be and move on to the next subject. In the future, I suspect that this problem will become smaller and smaller as more and more Indians learn English better and better. Language is indeed a powerful tool, and it's clear that mastery of it is a key to (or perhaps result of) success. The fact that English is the language of medicine has allowed us to have a far better understanding of what we're seeing than we would otherwise, and the fact that English is not the spoken language of the majority made me painfully aware of my own monolingual-ness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
