Come and See

            It is Tuesday, May 22nd, 2024, around 12:00 am the night before I am set to fly out from Dulles to Dubai and from Dubai over to Delhi to begin my internship at the Migration & Asylum Project the following week. I am pacing the confines of my room, back and forth, back and forth, in a state of total panic. I feel like I am completely in over my head. How do I always manage to get myself involved in these sorts of things? I don’t know anything about India. Hell, I’m no longer convinced that I know much of anything about anything. I have just read an article about how the majority of street dogs (street dogs???) in Delhi have been exposed to rabies, or at least all carry the possibility of transmitting rabies over to a person – why the hell didn’t I get the rabies vaccine? I don’t know what the hell to do if I get rabies. More than that, what do I even do if I end up getting sick over there? The travel health lady told me that I should avoid doctors' offices in India as much as possible if I can avoid it. I also don’t speak Hindi. Is that what the majority of Indians speak over in Delhi? No, my interview was conducted in English; there have to be at least some English speakers over there whom I can reach out to for help in an absolute emergency. Oh my god, what the hell am I doing? I don’t want to do this. I really don’t want to do this. I had other offers on the table, I could have done something else this summer, something safer, something a little less risky. Is it too late to back out, or….

            All of these thoughts and more are circulating back and forth in my head, completely overwhelming me late, late into the night. All of these, that is, but one other; softer at first, but gradually growing louder and louder: “I want to go and see.” I feed this thought like firewood to a flame, allowing it to outpace the rest of the noise that is clambering for attention inside of my mind, focusing on what it is I have to do, the job that I have committed to and signed up for; “I want to go and see. I want to go and see and experience what the world is like for myself.”


            It is now Friday, August 2nd, around 6:00 pm IST (Indian Standard Time). It has been exactly seventy-one days since I have last stepped foot in America; much too long to be gone. I am currently writing this piece while waiting for my flight to arrive at the Indira Gandhi International Airport, taking me from Delhi to another layover in Dubai, and from Dubai the long way home back to the United States. I go through the next several weeks in my head: “Let’s see, when I get to Dulles, I am going to go to Leesburg, Virginia, with my family. I need to repack my bags, I DEFINITELY need to go get a haircut and a shave, and I’ll have to try and fight off the effects of jetlag as best as I can. I wonder where we’ll go to dinner that night? I think I’m feeling Italian. Anyway, not important (or maybe seafood?), never mind, what happens next? Yes, the next morning, I will get on board a train that takes me north to Brooklyn, and from Brooklyn, I’m taking a week’s vacation, heading south to Bermuda for some sun and some sand (as if I haven’t gotten enough sun this past summer). When I get back, I’ll be doing the whole thing again in reverse, except this time picking up my car in Leesburg to make the drive up to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, to renew my driver’s license, then immediately driving back down I-95 late Monday night to Williamsburg to begin my two jobs working as a student admissions ambassador and a legal practice fellow the following morning. After that, I finally get to relax, except not really, because there’s one more year of law school to contend with after all that is done.” God, it’s been a full summer.

            “Full” seems to me a particularly fitting word to use in describing India, and Delhi in particular. The city is full of a great many things; full of people, certainly. Full of traffic, and drivers who don’t appear to have the general patience to be able to adequately deal with the frustrations of steady amounts of traffic, which in turn makes the country full of more and more traffic. Full of street dogs, and street cats, and street cows, and have I mentioned the traffic yet? The country, much like its capital city, is full of a lot of other things, too: full of joy. Full of pain. Full of poverty. Full of wealth. In many ways, the country is humanity at its zenith of humanness, with all the good and the beauty and the bad and the ugliness that inherently follows from being human. Maybe I am just describing a place, any old place. Maybe that’s simply what happens when you spend time anywhere that people live in significant enough numbers, but it all feels more when you go to India. There is just a lot more going on than some of the other places and countries where I have been. The country is full to the brim with humanity, on triumphant and terrible display.

            This is particularly true when it comes to how the country has dealt with its refugee population. Working at the Migration & Asylum Project this past summer, I have heard many stories from those seeking safety and solace in this new and frightening place that continue to chill me to the bone: stories of the intense prejudice and vitriol these people have faced in a nation that at times has gone to great and significant lengths to remind refugees just how truly unwanted they are here. But, in working at MAP, I have also come to see the very best of India; attorneys, advocates, and ordinary community members who are working hard to help make a difference in the daily lives of those individuals who are in most need of help and legal aid. During my time in Delhi this past summer, I have witnessed the lives of refugees turned, if not completely around, then certainly for the better thanks to the help of the dedicated attorneys and community volunteers working at MAP. The memories that I have made here, I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

            In order to get to know a place, in order to get to know a people, in order to get to know yourself, I think that there are times in life where you just have to push yourself outside of your comfort zone and dive headfirst into that which frightens you, and make no mistake, India frightened me. It continues to frighten me in a lot of ways; spending any amount of time outside in weather that was consistently over 100 degrees Fahrenheit was frightening. Getting to work each morning in the insanity of Delhi traffic was frightening. Wondering where I was going to be able to acquire food and water that was safe to consume in a country that is notorious for making travelers deathly ill was frightening. But coming to India was also one of the most worthwhile things I have ever done or will ever do in my life. If given the chance or opportunity, my parting advice would be for anyone who reads this to come and do those frightening, crazy things that bring you to the far-off corners of the planet. Come and experience the world around you. Come and see.


There are a great many people whom I would like to thank for making my internship at the Migration & Asylum Project this past summer possible:

 

            My friends back in America and newfound friends here in India who collectively helped to keep me sane and stable.

            My wonderful family, without whom I don’t think I would have been able to physically (or fiscally) make this summer abroad happen in the first place.

            Ms. Jamyang Lhamo & Mr. Nilotpal Datta for hiring me, and to the rest of the staff at the MAP Outreach office for welcoming me with such kindness and open arms.

            And finally, a very heartfelt thank you to Professor Christie Warren for recommending me to the Migration & Asylum Project and helping me to land this internship in the first place.

 

My sincerest thanks and appreciation to you all. This will be a summer that I could not manage to forget if I tried.

- Tyler Brooks, 08/02/2024