YOGAJOURNAL.COM 115Last year, Yoga Journal ran a travel essay by a US-based yoga
teacher who had visited India with his family. His account was not
unlike many Western accounts of India and in the vein of what we
call “poverty-porn.” In these stories, India is consistently described
as a place where those from North America or Europe can “fi nd
themselves,” “surrender,” “fi nd grace in poverty,” “learn tolerance,”
“experience culture,” or “withstand an assault on the senses.”
In other words, for all too many white yoga practitioners, India
is the other. It is the “dirty” escapist fantasy that leads to a “life-
changing, transformational” experience for travelers.
Most tourists, even educated yoga practitioners, may not realize
that this attitude perpetuates colonial and structural forms of
racism. Structural racism, also known as white supremacy in the
US context today, is not about individual acts. Instead, it is about
the institutional, taken-for-granted privilege that makes it possible
for a US citizen to easily acquire a tourist visa to India, when the
inverse is next to impossible for the average Indian. In other words,
structural racism determines who gets to go where and how. So,
before you plan a trip, refl ect on why you want to travel to India
and consider the broader history and implications.
Many people see travel as the antidote to racism. Travel can
allow us to see cultural diff erences—this is true—but when
“diff erence” becomes a source of self-affi rmation, travel is reduced
to a form of virtue-signaling, or self-congratulation, which only
leads to more re-centering of the white experience. Many travel
to places black and brown folks come from to experience personal
“transformation” in the face of devastating inequity and call this
gratitude. We have all seen this type of social media post: the
“simple happiness of the locals, despite the fact that most live in
poverty, made me realize how fortunate I am, and how easy it is
to be happy.” This is a normalized form of racism, like referring to
African-American music as “ghetto” or the everyday racist question
brown folks know all too well: “But where are you FROM?”
The challenging aspect of this, for most of the white people who
teach and practice yoga (about 85 percent of yoga participants in
the US are white, according to the National Institutes of Health), is
that you must confront and deprogram the attitude that prioritizes
intentions over impact. Ask yourself honestly, “Am I going to India
to make myself feel better about my place in the world?” Or worse,
“Am I posting about it on social media so I can pat myself on the
back for it?”
Put another way, traveling to a place—where locals cannot
easily travel to where you are from—to “bring back” something
you can then market or sell isn’t dharmic or yogic. It’s not even
appropriative. The word for that kind of transaction is imperialism.
If you are a white yoga teacher,
you may go to India to better
understand and learn something,
and when you come back you feel
that it adds value to your teaching,
which you essentially sell. Is this wrong?
Well, yes. Someone who lives in North
America is taking intellectual property
from India and turning around to teach
it and sell it at a profi t while nothing
is going back to the country of origin.
This leads to the erasure of indigenous
knowledge, and more importantly, this
is exactly how white supremacy endures
in 2019.
It’s hard for many to hear this, but
commercial yoga does not have a pretty
story, and, as with many aspects of our
culture in 2019, we are long overdue for
an honest conversation about how race,
capitalism, and colonialism have played
and continue to play a role in shaping
what we think belongs to us. The question
then becomes, what do we do with this
knowledge, not only as individuals but
on a structural level? How do we proceed
in a manner that leads to justice and
equity? Ultimately, the question more
yoga practitioners need to ask themselves
before they travel to previously colonized
areas is not “How can I do what I want”
but “Why do I think I have a right to what
I want?” This isn’t just about you or your
intentions, however “good” they may be.
And fi nally, if you still want to travel
to previously colonized areas for yoga
tourism, we encourage you to consider
these questions before you go:
1) Would you still go if you weren’t
taking pictures or couldn’t post about
your trip on social media?
2) Would you still go if you couldn't
buy anything to bring back (souvenirs for
yourself or to sell) or leverage your time in
India for fi nancial gain?THE TROUBLE
WITH TOURISM
A scholar of critical race theory and a yoga teacher explore the
problematic ways Westerners describe their travels to India.
BY RUMYA S. PUTCHA AND SANGEETA VALLABHAN
RUMYA S.
PUTCHA, PhD,
is a scholar of
postcolonial,
critical race,
and gender
studies. She’s
the author of
the forthcoming
book Mythical
Courtesan |
Modern Wife:
Performance and
Feminist Praxis
in South Asia,
and her next
project is titled
Namaste Nation:
Commercial
Yoga Industries
and American
Imperialism.LEARN MORE
For more information
about structural
racism and how
colonialism shaped
global racism and
injustice, check out
these resources.A Theory of
Imperialism
by Utsa & Prabhat
PatnaikOrientalism
by Edward W. SaidInglorious Empire
by Shashi TharoorWhite Fragility
by Robin DiAngelo