In the early 1900s, French Existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre propounded the concept of ‘bad faith’, a notion of limiting one’s individual identity despite life offering an infinite spectrum of possibilities. Unsurprisingly, humans suppress their ‘authenticity’ by complying with social norms and prescribed behaviours. For instance, the mundane schedule of a teacher kicks off with early morning mobility on jam-packed vehicles to the same old cubicles where a pile of registers dies to be of utility, an old pair of temporary markers long to be written on the whiteboard, and the classroom full of learners anticipate exciting lessons.
In today’s volatile economy, making ends meet is anything but easy. However, the truth is that monotony is an inalienable part of human life. What one perceives as ‘routine’ may be a source of ‘comfort’ for another, implying the nuanced interplay between ‘boredom’ and ‘familiarity’. Such conformity to routine reinforces the idea of one’s pre-determined purpose in life, limiting the possibility of treading alternative pathways. A struggling musician recognizes that only an album or two will not catapult her to financial prosperity rather familial obligations compel her to pursue a different path.
Now, consider a waiter whose deeply entrenched sense of hospitality is further magnified by the constant urge to yield to his customers, firmly believing that his sole purpose in life is to serve them. Internalized acceptance of ‘defined’ roles perfectly aligns with all kinds of professionals such as fashion designers, philosophers,and carpenters,all of whom relentlessly pursue the same pursuit throughout their lives. Thus, the perpetuity of life carries with it, the heavyweights of societal expectations, and adherence toward acceptable forms of behaviour, failing which people are politically, economically, and socially ostracized.
Borrowed identity
My perception of self is the amalgamation of two behemoths- embodiments of the Great Wall of China and the Taj Mahal. In this cultural tapestry, it is easy to get lost amidst the blend of immediate neighbours, leading to a moral dilemma-where do I fit in?
Fairness creams from the Indian and Chinese markets have built a narrative on the ‘inferior’ dusky complexion of the Nepalese while promoting fair skin as ‘an elixir of eternal beauty, unconditional love, materialistic gains, and societal validation’.
Breakfasts in the hilly region no longer consist of handmade millet chapatis (tortillas) or tangy achar (pickle). In 2022, the United Nations COMTRADE database on international trade demonstrated how Nepal imports edible fruits, and nutsworth $ 89.95 million from India alone. According to Freshela Exporters, nearly 310 tons of avocados were imported, which is an increase of over 100% from 2021.
Instagram reels of Bollywood celebrities like Shilpa Shetty give credit to trending breakfast ideas for her hourglass shape. To add to this utter disappointment, social media has been overpowering authentic Nepali cuisines by introducing the new norm of ‘avocado toasts and strawberry smoothies’; people consume them not because they enjoy it, but with the longing to fit in. With the free will to jump on the bandwagon due to FOMO (Fear of Missing Out), one’s ‘home culture’ diminishes in value. Pre-defined ways of existing have gradually begun to erode, instead giving rise to the new ‘normal’. For instance,a classic Nepali morning unfolds with a Chinese mug full of ginger tea while watching Indian soap operas. Families call it a day by serving dinner in Chinese dinnerware. When things become overwhelming and nearly every object in the house reflects Indian or Chinese craftsmanship, suffocation starts to set in.
As an acute observer of the globalized era, I am quite aware of its spillover effects, yet, I sometimes wonder who I am and where I stand. The never-ending goods, products, services, and ideas around me have nothing in common but a label: "Made in China or Made in India."
At my home, there is a stool called 'muda'- adored by generations. Sadly, it has worn out and I am beginning to think that I should get a new one. However, the mere thought of replacing her almost feels like relinquishing the warmth that I once yearned for while unwinding on a piece of Nepal. Her familiarity is long gone as she neither visually appeals noris of much utility.
On the night of my 22nd birthday, I longed for a brand-new chair to replace my late grandmother's '15-year-old' legacy. I wonder what has provoked me to belittle the hands behind this craft, and fail at acknowledging the tedious work that goes into curating the muda? To serve dinner in Chinese dinnerware while abandoning my brass plates (chares ko thaal)?
An article written by David Lucas in 2023 describes the origin and usage of mahogany, a tree native to South America, in making furniture. I am drowning in guilt for I have been subconsciously consumed by mahogany while discarding the embodiment of Nepal craftsmanship i.e., muda. Viewing this from the world-system lens of Immanuel Wallerstein, it can be observed how the world is classified into three different regions: core, semi-periphery, and periphery.Within this framework, Nepal lies in the periphery, grappling to balance the domineering interests and superiority of core and semi-periphery regions.
Mother and Motherland
Nation and mother are the two wheels of the same chariot; while mothers nurture, the motherland reminds them of their roots. To localize in a world that is rapidly escalating toward globalization is to preserve a plethora of one's art and culture. Sometimes the idea of rooting for one’s motherland irks me; I feel as pretentious as a desperate horde of paparazzi catching a sneak peek of ‘wardrobe malfunctions’ during movie promotions. I hate to admit that instead of embracing my cultural identity, I had abandoned it like an age-old encyclopaedia that lies unsullied on the bookshelf. My love for Nepal was as stale as a cookie soaked in all its putridity; the soggier it got, the less it enticed me.
Unfolding the Dilemma
The dilemma over ‘muda’ and ‘mahogany’ has made me reflect on my identity. As I venture out on a new voyage and re-write the chapters of my life, I have unlearned a few and look forward to re-learning the idea of what love for one's motherland can look like. What an epiphany this is: regardless of the detached umbilical cord of a baby, an offspring can never be too separated from its nurturer. This analogy perfectly captures the inner turmoil I experience while juggling two ends of the spectrum; globalization and localization, eventually finding a way to bring each other into harmony.
To discover our inner selves, we need to imprint the synergy between globalization and localization into our consciousness, allowing neither of the two to take over. On the path of self-discovery and identity formation, we should vow to promote, preserve, and defend national craftsmanship under all circumstances all the while embracing an infinite spectrum of possibilities.