Safely Home

We arrived home safely after a 31 hour marathon that took us through Helsinki and London. Settling in and reflecting on this wonderful trip we are filled with an extraordinary variety of images and emotions. India has not really changed that much in 30 years, or for 300 years for that matter. Sure there are a lot more motorized vehicles and the larger cities are quite polluted, the population has risen dramatically, and everyone has a cell phone, but this just adds to the amazing noisy, chaotic, aromatic, colorful flavor of an ultimately indescribable mosaic of character, history, spirituality, death, life, smoke and ashes, animals, mud and sand, silk and metal, saffron and shit, kindness and cruelty, and every other polarity of emotions and life-events that you could imagine. The final few days were rife with some of the more negative effects of modernization and bourgeoning tourism. When traveling, one is always interacting with, and somewhat at the mercy of, others. We are constantly dealing with issues of trust. Most often we meet wonderful, kind people who will guide us along the way and treat us warmly. However, tourism is a major industry in Rajasthan and people are very industrious and creative in finding ways to earn a living. People sell almost anything and find imaginative ways to serve the visitor as a way to make a few rupees. Rickshaw wallahs or taxi drivers will attempt to divert you towards their relatives’ shops for a ‘personalized tour of a worker-owned co-operative,’ or offer ‘cheapest shop in town, avoid tourist prices, no pay white-face tax.’ This will ultimately translate into a hefty commission for the driver from what typically amounts to a tourist-oriented outlet for slave-labor sweat shops. ‘Students of English’ will also be glad to help you find your way to these showrooms while promising to help you find the government-owned emporium that you were originally looking for. We had a few occasions where hours of our precious time in India were spent negotiating these situations and I feel that they should be mentioned even though it casts a negative hue over what was an incredible experience. More potent are the memories of the kindness shown to us in our vulnerabilities. People went out of their way to help us, stimulate us, and encourage us. On one occasion, while negotiating the puddles of urine and cow dung on the floor, Cindy walked into a rusty iron pole which was protruding from a truck. She gashed her forehead and was bravely dabbing her head with a Kleenex to stem the bleeding. We were surrounded with people directing us to a doctor’s office across the street. The doctor happened to arrive simultaneously on his bicycle and led us to his office where he treated Cindy patiently and thoroughly, cleaning the wound and applying ointment. When she asked how much we owed the doctor graciously replied, “You are my guest.” In India people will tell you, “The guest is like god.” Most of the time this is exactly the way we felt we were treated. We have very fond memories of our drivers, Kuldeep, Jamil, Usman, Anand, Bramesh, and Mandeep, all of whom went out of their way to offer us a safe, exciting and ultimately unforgettable experience. We are also thankful to many of the entrepreneurs, hotel owners and managers (Parvez at Delhi Bed and Breakfast, Harish at Mewar Haveli in Udaipur, Lulu at Bundi Haveli Hotel, Mr. Singh at the Pearl Palace in Jaipur, Anil of Four Wheel Drive India, Yogi at Yogi’s Guest House in Jodhpur, Harsh Khan at Bhairon Vilas in Bikaner, and Shambu at the Atithi Guest House in Jaipur) who epitomized their slogan, “Arrive as a tourist, leave as a friend.” We were shown extraordinary kindness by Gapu in Jaisalmer, Gaju in Jodhpur and a multitude of others whose names we have forgotten or perhaps never learned. We will never forget so many of the nameless children whose smiles were worth the world, who were interested in having their picture taken, inviting us to their homes, or who just giggled to see these strange looking westerners in their path. We were amused and warmed by the Hinglish amalgamation of words and phrases, such as, “I’ll just go and come,” and “If you happy then I happy.” We were told how one of our drivers’ fathers “used too much ganja and got dead.” We loved (and also adopted) some of the friendly bodily gestures such as that subtle jiggling of the head and waving of the hand that is seemingly unique to Indian people. Our speech slowed down and was broken up into understandable phrases to match the pacing of the English spoken. Remarkably, a large portion of the people we met spoke English along with Hindi and their own local dialect. India is rich with a multitude of cultures, languages, and religions. It is a country of a hundred million people; it stretches from the mighty Himalayas in the north, is nurtured by the holy River Ganges and its fertile plains, and is home to desert lands and tropical jungles. It is surrounded by oceans and dotted with hill stations. There is so much more there yet to explore. Until next time India!