There is no way to describe the feeling of travelling besides ecstasy. Driving through a new city on a rickshaw, dodging through crowded streets filled with cars, motorbikes, free-roaming dogs and holy cows. Sitting on an Indian hotel roof, looking at a different side of the same moon that you know so well.
The feeling of euphoria I get when I am experiencing something totally new, something completely out of my comfort zone is no less than a high. New tastes, smells, even awkward encounters like the one I experienced while writing the draft for this blog as three girls and a baby tried to converse with me in Hindi; all have unique things that make them special. The baby, maybe 2 or 3 years old brought me a flower and I put it behind my ear. She got another one and tried to stick it in my other ear.
India is beautiful. The smell of spices and street food fill the cities. The vibrant colours cover every building, every woman. Sarees of every shade decorate their bodies, leaving only their ankles and wrists which jingle with the sound of their bangles and anklets. Prayer flags of red, blue, yellow, green and white drape the sides of peoples homes, businesses, waterfalls, trees and mountains. Some have faded from the sun, but they still serve their purpose of sending the prayers off to be carried by the wind.
Even at the highest peaks you will find prayer flags, piled on top of each other. We climbed up to 14,000 ft in the chilly Himalayan mountains and saw the sunrise. Gradually the snowy peaks were revealed, the stars started to disappear as the sky turned from black to blue and the frost all over the grass and flags sparkled in the sunlight.
But everything that goes up, must come down and every high has its lows. The feeling of heartache when a child knows how to reach his or her hand out to beg before it learns its first words. The ever-itchy dogs with their ribs poking our and pieces of flesh missing from vicious dog fights, that are traumatized my human contact and are all too familiar with the motion of picking up a rock. The terrible smells and sights of public defecation, the cows eating trash bags and the crippled men, women and children; dragging their frail bodies across the pavement.
It can be overwhelming at times, like when trying to get a rickshaw and thirty men crowd around, all competing and yelling different prices at you. Seeing hundreds of people sleeping on the side of busy streets in Delhi; the constant honking, the sound of dogs barking when you are trying to sleep. Riding on the wrong side of the road in a taxi and veering away from a head-on collision by only a fraction of a second. The persistent beggars who poke and pull at you and follow you sometimes for long distances. Driving 40 mph down a windy, two-way road that really only has room for one car; putting your life and trust in the hands of the taxi driver, knowing in the event of a crash the only place to go is down thousands of feet.
When a woman comes up to you with her baby and insists she only wants milk, “no money” she says. You sympathise with her and buy her a can of powdered milk and you feel good about it, until the next day when the same woman approaches you and you realize you have been scammed, she sold it back to the shopkeeper for a profit. Only then do you start to notice things about the beggars, like the gold earrings that the mother is wearing, and that her baby actually looks pretty well-fed.
The sight of dirty, teary eyed children at the train station like the ones on the TV commercials, except this time you cannot change the channel and pretend they do not exist. You look at them and know that even “a dollar a day” as they say, does not have the power to change this child’s life; only keep them from starving at best. Trying to imagine the unfathomable circumstances that brought them to this place, and happen far too commonly.
At times it seems like the bad outweighs the good, but there is something underneath it all that I can’t explain, I am not sure anyone can. Beneath all the chaos and discomfort there is something beautiful and interesting. Maybe it is an acquired taste, like spicy foods; not for everyone. I think it’s something everyone should try, see how they can stomach it. I for one, am addicted.
