Scene from India: The cultural exchange
On the drive from Jaipur to Agra on October 3, my Indian driver was rocking out to Hindi music, bobbing his head side to side. After a few hours, he turned around and asked if I had any music that I wanted to play. I handed him my phone and USB connector. He plugged it into his radio. His radio chooses songs from the device at random to play.
“Money to Blow” by Birdman, Drake, and Lil Wayne is the first track from my phone to come on, blasting from his quality sound system. We’re in the Indian countryside with farmers with huge bundles of grain balanced on their heads, their sons with sickles in the fields cutting stalks. Rusted trucks are passing by without hoods—you can see the ancient fan belts churning and their wooden truck beds holding chickens, goats, and men. We’re next to shepherds in flowing robes and camels pulling carts. Women in colorful, thin robes with shimmering of gold from their veils are passing by on the backs of motorbikes.
Here I am with my driver blasting Drake, the Canadian-born hip hop star, my driver’s speakers eking out more bass than the speakers have ever produced before. My driver turns around and asks me what this “Money to Blow” means. I explain. Surreal.