On marrying a "brown man"

I have always wondered about the ramifications of a white woman marrying an Indian man and choosing to live in India. How does she tackle the questions, the stares, the obsequiousness? Apparently the editors at Open magazine had the same thought and they commissioned an Australian writer in Mumbai to chronicle her feelings and share her experiences about being married to a "brown man" and living with him in India. Her article is both poignant and revelatory. Here are some excerpts:

How foreigners are regarded in India is a curious matter. Our white skin, and the belief that we have power and money, unwittingly elevates us to the top of the social hierarchy. Doors will open for me in India, while at the same time remaining closed for many Indians. Shop assistants will beckon for my attention,while ignoring other potential customers. Everyone wants to have a foreigner for a friend. I’ve lost count of how many times my neighbours have knocked on my door, asking me to meet every relative who visits them. They’re not interested in my husband, though.

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My husband is neither loudspoken, nor imposing. As a result, he often gets mistaken as my guide. I  remember one day, I was shopping at a stall at the Colaba Causeway market in Mumbai. My husband, who’d been looking at something else, came up to me and asked how I was going. The stallholder turned to him, and roughly told him in Hindi to go away and not interfere in the transaction.

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There have been ...occasions where my husband and I have visited the hotel rooms of male Indian friends staying in Mumbai, and it’s actually been inferred that I must be a foreign prostitute. The hotel staff did their best to prevent us from going to the room.

Read the article in full here.

• Photo courtesy: Open