Dealing with rejection - Indian style

I got turned down for a job yesterday.  After spending 5 hours doing role plays and presentations and stuff.  It was in York.  A recruitment day for the YHA.  There were about 25 people there and about 12 jobs, so by pure statistics alone there was a 50/50 chance of being offered a job.

I was pretty disappointed to not be offered anything.  In some ways it would have been easier if they'd said 'We think you're crap, piss off', but instead they said, that I was good enough, but there weren't enough jobs.  This may have been a polite way of saying 'Piss off, you're crap', but they seemed pretty genuine.  What it did mean though, was that there were some people there, who were considered more suitable than me.

Under normal circumstances, I would probably have spent ages agonising over everything I did and said during the course of the day, trying to second guess the interviewers etc.  But I've been to India now.  I don't need a reason for things.  I'm used to not understanding why things happen.  And it wasn't just the Indians I learned this from.  Dean adopts a similar approach.  He described himself as being fatalistic and he was willing to accept things that happened and he didn't waste time and effort reflecting on them too much afterwards, to see whether the outcome could have been different.  Maybe that's why he's got the stamina for the trip he's on, because he's always looking forwards and not back.

One thing I've noticed since I got back is how much time English people spend a) choosing things and b) thinking about things to do with status, ego and self-esteem.  Maybe Indians do too, but I couldn't understand what any of them were saying.  Now I'm back I feel like that little kid in the Sixth Sense, I can hear voices all the time.

My first full day at home was Monday.  I took Ruth out for lunch and for a walk up Clay Bank.  It was cold, foggy, icy and very English.  I wasn't especially paying attention to the women on the next table but once or twice I overheard them, and they spent the entire course of their meal talking about dogs.  One of them was really excited about getting a new miniature Schnauzer.  They spent ages talking about why this is a desirable type of dog, and how affectionate they are etc.  I couldn't help but laugh.

I was laughing because I was thinking about the dog situation in India.  Basically there seem to be a lot of medium sized mongrels.  They don't have really big dogs or really small dogs.  They certainly don't seem to have breeds.  The dogs there are just hang about on the streets, sleeping mostly, occasionally looking for some food.  They don't have to try too hard, because the gutters are full of discarded food containers.  On two occasions I saw someone doing something which approximated walking a dog, although I wasn't sure on either one, whether the dog was just following them.

If India has any places that you can get a dog from, which I doubt, I imagine, the conversation would go something like this.

'Hello, I'd like a dog'. 
'There's one, have that one!'
'Don't you have any miniature Schnauzers?'
'Any what?'
'Miniature Schnauzers'
'I'm sorry, I don't understand the question'.
'Well, what type of dogs do you have?'
'Stray ones'
'Are they good companions?  Are they affectionate?'  Do they like children?'
'They're dogs.  They just do dog stuff, they're not service providers'
'I think I'll leave it'.

Choosing stuff, expressing preferences, it's all a bit of a luxury over there.

Before I went, some people told me India would be a life-changing experience.  I'm not sure it was for me, because when I used to lie awake shivering at Bhandari Swiss Cottages at 4 in the morning (I liked the daytime, because it was always sunny, but the nights were when I thought about home) I thought about the life I have, and I realised that it was already good, and I didn't need to change it.

At home I've got Ruth, and I've got friends and family.  They love me, they accept me, they understand me, and even when I talk absolute rubbish, they still listen to me and love me some more. 

I read in some guide book or other, that Westerners often feel guilty in third world countries.  Guilty for all the stuff they've got.  It didn't affect me that way.  I just felt lucky.  It's an accident of birth that I was born in the UK.  I'm not actively going out and stealing material things away from Indians and Africans.  I was just born that way.

One thing I did notice while I was away was that the few thiings I had with me, my bike, my camera, my phone, and all the other stuff I took, became more important to me, not less.  Whether they were just a mobile part of home I don't know, but I didn't want to give them up.

Even in Rishikesh, where people were off seeking enlightenment and trying to find themselves, I didn't want to let go of my life back home.  I didn't need to find myself, because I knew where I was.

Some of the Westerners I met in Rishikesh seemed to have missed the point somewhat.  It was an area where alcohol is banned, and eating meat is frowned upon, and even eating eggs is normally done in private (I'm not joking).  And what did they spend their time doing?  Buying illicit beer, getting pissed and eating chicken.  They could have done that back home.

Some of my favourite Indians I met were the ones at Rishikesh.  They were always smiling and at times they were definitely laughing in the faces of us Westerners, but not in a negative way, just in the way that you might watch chimps or seals performing at the zoo.  I used to wonder if they went back to their rooms on a night and said things to each other like 'You'll never guess what that English girl asked me for today!' or 'Look at that guy wearing the tea cosy on his head, is that how he thinks Indians dress?' or 'You'll never guess how much that Greek guy is willing to pay for a can of beer!'.

A lot of the emotional knots that I tie myself up in, wondering whether I could have done things differently, or whether I've come across badly in a social situation, or whether this activity or that is making me feel good about myself, are luxuries that only a Westerner needs to worry about.  Dealing with Indians is lot like Luke Skywalker's encounter with Yoda in the Empire Strikes Back.  Over there, thinking doesn't get you anywhere.  It's all about what you do, or don't do.  There is no try.