Pramila Jayapal spent a few years of her childhood in India before moving with her family to other parts of the world. Originally from Kerala, her family eventually settled in Bangalore, long after the author had settled in America, completed college, and married an American of European descent. She returns to India on a two-year grant, to learn more about her professional interests, development, and answer deeply personal questions about her identity as an Indian. The trip is a revelation in almost every way.
Jayapal is a feminist and finds herself with intelligent, well-educated upper class Indian woman who, to her amazement, are uncomfortable with the idea of being labeled feminists. The modern women she interviews manage to hold and live by so many contradictory ideas that the author must struggle to hold her tongue. The next tenet of her faith in her western life to be slashed to ribbons is the concept of development as promoted by westerners. She understands early on that the men and women living in isolated villages with problems they and their ancestors have confronted for centuries perhaps have a much better idea of what problems need solving and what solutions might work.
As an Indian in a fairly traditional family, the author grew up with the customs and practices of Hinduism but she has little understanding of what it all means for her on a deeper level. She is the first to admit this, and one section of the book covers her search for insight into the spirituality of her faith and how to approach it. Her forays into ashrams and temples are among the most honest excursions curious westerners will have access to, and are a testament to her honesty as a pilgrim. A lot of her time is spent in Varanasi, and here begins the most moving part of her story.
The author and her husband decide to begin a family, and this decision opens the door to the best and worst that Indian medical care has to offer. Her story brought me to tears for many reasons.
Throughout this book I identified with much that she said and felt about India and her months of discovery, much of what she learned unexpected and confusing. I felt like I was with her at every step, groping to understand, and remembering going through the same feelings when I first went to India almost forty years ago. Few memoirs of encountering India are as insightful, honest, or rewarding as this one.