When I was in the 11th grade of my school education, I went on a student exchange program to India with the German exchange organization YFU (Youth for Understanding). This is now about five years ago and though the Indian exchange program of YFU is growing and other exchange organizations have followed, I'm still asked very often “Why India?! I didn't even know that this is possible.” Yes, a student exchange program to India is possible, and it's definitively one of the best experiences of my life so far.

Of course, living as a 16-year-old Western girl in India for one year wasn't always easy. During my first weeks in India I was – quite frankly speaking – shocked. The first days I stayed with some other exchange students at the office of YFU in Delhi. It was the beginning of July, just before the monsoon, and thus very hot and humid. This alone was exhausting for us. But there was so much else: masses of people, often staring people, poverty, garbage, and a lot of different smells and noises. The language was different and even the Indian English was difficult for us to understand.

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Ever since I started working in Shahpur Jat in the southern part of Delhi, I have been inspired by the particular atmosphere pervading the small galis of this neighbourhood. However, it took me more than two months before I took to the streets to explore whatever they have on offer. One spring afternoon after sitting through several successive power cuts I decided to leave my desk and go out looking for adventure. For the last two months I have been hearing about how the place is full of design shops catering for the tastes of the urban and the fashionable, but on my way to the office I did not see anything like that, only the main market filled with small grocery shops offering the usual knick-knacks and the carts of the vegetable and fruit sellers.

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The first time I was in India I wanted to get to know the real India - not just the Lonely Planet-India, so I decided to do CouchSurfing. Occupying somebody else’s living room is not just about saving money. It is about sharing. A complete stranger shares with you his home. You can observe his morning habits, you eat with him, you can discuss every possible topic under the sun... Indians, at least the Indian CouchSurfers, are usually very keen on discussing the differences and similarities of their own and your culture. Hence, I got to know a flight attendant, an elephant rider, a family father, a son of a wealthy family etc. So I could see the differences between the lower, middle and upper social classes. It was an incredible experience!

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I recently read an article in the New York Times entitled “In India, Castes, Honor and Killings Intertwine”. Over the six years or so since I made my first journey to India, I have recounted to friends and acquaintances at home some of the anecdotes (I wince to use this word – as if abuse of women should ever be relegated to a mere anecdote) I have encountered in first, second, or third person regarding the ways in which women are abused, maimed, or sometimes killed, as in the case of the young girl in the aforementioned article. I always want to defend or make excuses for the country that I love. It’s true, there hasn’t been a case of sati [immolation of widows on their husband’s funeral pyre] in years (though I hasten to point out, there has been in my lifetime), but I recall reading of daily “kitchen fires” in the police blotter in the Bangalore newspaper years ago; and discovering that this was a twisted and polite allusion to an intentional act of violence often resulting in homicide, not an indication that the country needed to examine safety standards of stovetop ranges.

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I came as a woman to India, my choice of destination for fulfilling the next endeavors…

… and guess what, I’m still in India and believe or not: I am still a woman!

What is it like to be a woman from Germany living in India? What a simple and complex question at the same time! Let’s begin with the daily routine, pulling the bicycle out of the garage, preparing for the regular ride to work. This seemingly not worth mentioning act is today welcomed by a burst into heart full laughter of the by now well-known neighbor. Shortly after he asks in Hindi at least for the third time, what in the world I’m up to. Despite all the attempts of the most obvious explanations, ranging from the enjoyment of riding a bike, exploring the new city, saving money, looking for an exercise - to mention a few - he still seems to bang his head on what to make of this shockingly awkward picture. I will come across this almost paradigmatic reaction several times more on my way to work. I don’t mind, not the least, because it adds a significant amount of entertainment to my daily routine. I am grinning over some of the ones out there, bumping into each other or on good days crashing into street lights while staring towards the cycle lane.

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