The motherland — a name many immigrants and children of immigrants use for their ancestral homeland. For the Indian-American community, obviously, this would be India. Having your motherland a 20-hour (never direct) flight away can pose challenges and, with a global pandemic going on, be really inaccessible. Because of this, I hadn’t been back to the motherland for seven years before my recent trip to India. Yet, she welcomed me back with open arms.
During online school in 2021, I began to feel a longing to return to India. I was due for a visit and definitely missing my family; but it was more than that. I won’t say I fit in better in India — my accent, clothing, lifestyle and mannerisms make sure of that. But, spending years away from the motherland can leave a little gap that only returning can fill.
That same year, I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder. Crohn’s Disease is a digestive disorder that primarily impacts people living in the Northern Hemisphere. Crohn’s Disease is thought to often pass on genetically, yet it has been increasingly diagnosed in Indian-American communities, even though they are ancestrally from the Southern Hemisphere. Research is still being done to find out why exactly this is.
When I was in India recently, I didn’t have any symptoms at all. I’m not a doctor and have no idea what was going on with me medically; I just know I felt healthy the whole visit, which hasn’t been the case since I was diagnosed in 2021. I was even able to drink cow’s milk, despite being lactose intolerant, with no physical reaction. This was huge for me, since South Indian coffee is the best and I could have it every day (yay!). South Asian populations rank as one of the highest in terms of lactose intolerance rates. Yet, if you ask any Indian person, they would say the milk in India suits them fine, even if the milk in other places doesn’t.
It’s not just food, though. The climate, as much as I complain about being hot and getting bitten by mosquitos, had me feeling so much healthier. My skin was glowing and my hair was curling in all the right ways. I didn’t even use any curl products or lotion after my showers, which, if you know me, you’d know I use religiously in the U.S. I don’t know the science behind it, I just know that the motherland is doing her job — caring for her people the best she can.
From the bustling of the streets and the quiet of the hills, the auto drivers’ yelling and my aunt’s soft voice telling stories in Tamil, the mouth watering scent of sambar bubbling on the stove and the sweet smell of jasmine flowers being placed in my hair — it’s not just healing physically to be back, but also emotionally. The Diaspora Desis know all too well the divide between home life and work or school. Yet, in the motherland, there is no divide; you can finally catch a break. You can use the same language in and out of the house, go out with oil in your hair, don’t have to worry about the food you eat and the cultural clothes sitting in the back of your closet can finally see the light of day. I love the lifestyle I live in the U.S. as well; it’s just nice to practice traditions and have access to those special foods and items on days out of the year that aren’t just holidays. Going back to India always reminds me of how valuable these things are in my life and how much I actually enjoy them. I am for sure whitewashed, but having these reminders of what my culture is and why I should love it inspires me to be authentically myself and embrace those parts of me that I grew up pushing down. The motherland shows me the beauty I inherited and reassures me that she raised me right, even when I’ve left and questioned her.
The happiness I felt in India with even just little things, like wearing traditional earrings, showed me that I can do more to feel culturally connected. Since returning to the U.S., I’ve tried to remember that feeling and do right by myself by incorporating those small things into my life. I brought back Indian coffee powder for days when I need to feel like it’s a lazy morning at my aunt’s house. My chosen earrings for the semester — since I always stick to just one pair — are the little gold jimikkis my athai (dad’s sister) bought me.
It really is healing to return to the motherland