It has been said that there are two types of people in the world, those who have been to India and those who have not. If one wishes to truly come to terms with their own humanity, I advise them to walk the streets of Chennai (formerly known as Madras). I thought that I was cultured, well-traveled, and had just about seen everything that the world could throw at me. After a few hours of strolling through the city, I felt as if I was traveling again for the first time.
Overwhelming sights, smells, and sensations immediately assault the body. The Indian air seems thick--a combination of humidity and pollution. Dust and garbage swirl everywhere as an endless stream of motorbikes and rickshaws races through the streets. Traffic rages with no order whatsoever. The sound of horns is deafening as it echoes off the side of buildings. There seems to be dirt covering just about everything in sight. In less than a minute, you are sweating, dirty, and completely out of your element. And then it hits you, that knee-buckling smell. A smell that can only be described as the unabated stench of humanity. A stench which will stick with you for the rest of your time in this extraordinary country. It will penetrate your clothes, your hair, your nostrils, and your soul. Weeks later, I still get whiffs of India on board the Explorer.
How comfortable can one be when they are constantly brushing past thousands of people? People that stare without looking away and bump right into you without a second thought. How comfortable would you feel if you were stepping over bodies sleeping across sidewalks, witnessing the worst poverty the world has to offer, watching adults go to the bathroom in the streets (not just #1 either), or refusing to donate to purposefully mutilated beggars? However, thinking back on the time I spent in India, there is something strangely comforting about the nonstop, in-your-face bustle of the country. The entire nation seems to buzz with an energy that rivals any other place I have ever been--an energy which somehow charges, and simultaneously drains, your batteries.
The music is amazing. Walking though the streets, the bass-filled beats and high pitch voices can be heard blaring from every shop and stall. I've always wondered why Bollywood movies randomly bust out into song and dance. Now I know it is impossible to walk through the cities and not do so yourself. Anyone who visits my apartment during the next few months will be subject to the best tunes India has to offer.
While the music may be addictive, the absolute best thing about India is the food. Imagine heaps of meat and veggies thrown together with delicious spices and currys. Everywhere I went, I just pointed at a random dish on the menu--I was never disappointed. In the West they give you forks and knives. In the East you use chopsticks. In India, you eat with the best tool of all, your right hand. In fact, it is customary to do most things with the right hand here because left hands are reserved for something else (toilet paper is hard to come by on this side of the world). Actually, sit-down toilets are also pretty hard to find--lets just say if you come to India, you better have good balance.
A good chunk of my time was spent at a meditative yoga retreat known as the Art of Living. I ate only vegetarian food and sat in silence for hours every day. We learned advanced techniques from a certified professional from the Art of Living program. The experiences I had during meditation are meant for me and me alone, but I can assure you they were profound and life-changing.
Speaking of profound moments, one day my friends and I visited one of the large Hindu temples in Chennai. The temple was amazing, but the most interesting thing was the wedding that was occurring off to one side. People were gathered around a young couple wearing traditional clothing who were adorned with hundreds of flowers. We decided to watch the ceremony for a while. As time passed, we began to make friends with the brides brother. The next thing I knew, we were taking pictures with the wedding party, sitting with the grandparents, and hugging the bride and groom. The family invited us to the reception where we enjoyed a traditional meal served atop a palm leaf. To get there, we walked barefoot for about five to six blocks through the filthy streets, an experience that everyone should try at least once. We later learned that the bride and groom had only met days before the ceremony.
India is an extremely beautiful and complex place. By the end of any trip there, you will be very ready to leave. The dirt, smells, sights, poverty and energy wear on every ounce of your being. Strangely, days after leaving, I had a craving to go back. I hear that's how it works with everyone who has been to India, even those who are from there. During my six days in the country, I only saw a small glimpse of the incredible intricacy of this world. While many SASers saw the Taj Mahal, I did not--an excuse to go back I presume. Indeed, I still need to watch the sun rise on the Taj, witness a cremation on the banks of the Ganges in Varanasi, feel the energy that flows through Bombay, and visit the Bodhi Tree where Buddha found enlightenment.
So I have found that it is true what they say, once a person sees India, they will forever see the world in a different light. Of all the places I have been, India is first on my return-trip-list. I still have so much to write about Singapore and Vietnam, but tomorrow I already pull into Hong Kong. My fingers cannot keep up with the pace of this voyage. I promise to catch you up to date before I hit Japan. Until then, keep it real out there in cyber-land.
p.s. My stomach was fine with the food in India. However, the food on board the MV Explorer is a different story.
Overwhelming sights, smells, and sensations immediately assault the body. The Indian air seems thick--a combination of humidity and pollution. Dust and garbage swirl everywhere as an endless stream of motorbikes and rickshaws races through the streets. Traffic rages with no order whatsoever. The sound of horns is deafening as it echoes off the side of buildings. There seems to be dirt covering just about everything in sight. In less than a minute, you are sweating, dirty, and completely out of your element. And then it hits you, that knee-buckling smell. A smell that can only be described as the unabated stench of humanity. A stench which will stick with you for the rest of your time in this extraordinary country. It will penetrate your clothes, your hair, your nostrils, and your soul. Weeks later, I still get whiffs of India on board the Explorer.
How comfortable can one be when they are constantly brushing past thousands of people? People that stare without looking away and bump right into you without a second thought. How comfortable would you feel if you were stepping over bodies sleeping across sidewalks, witnessing the worst poverty the world has to offer, watching adults go to the bathroom in the streets (not just #1 either), or refusing to donate to purposefully mutilated beggars? However, thinking back on the time I spent in India, there is something strangely comforting about the nonstop, in-your-face bustle of the country. The entire nation seems to buzz with an energy that rivals any other place I have ever been--an energy which somehow charges, and simultaneously drains, your batteries.
The music is amazing. Walking though the streets, the bass-filled beats and high pitch voices can be heard blaring from every shop and stall. I've always wondered why Bollywood movies randomly bust out into song and dance. Now I know it is impossible to walk through the cities and not do so yourself. Anyone who visits my apartment during the next few months will be subject to the best tunes India has to offer.
While the music may be addictive, the absolute best thing about India is the food. Imagine heaps of meat and veggies thrown together with delicious spices and currys. Everywhere I went, I just pointed at a random dish on the menu--I was never disappointed. In the West they give you forks and knives. In the East you use chopsticks. In India, you eat with the best tool of all, your right hand. In fact, it is customary to do most things with the right hand here because left hands are reserved for something else (toilet paper is hard to come by on this side of the world). Actually, sit-down toilets are also pretty hard to find--lets just say if you come to India, you better have good balance.
A good chunk of my time was spent at a meditative yoga retreat known as the Art of Living. I ate only vegetarian food and sat in silence for hours every day. We learned advanced techniques from a certified professional from the Art of Living program. The experiences I had during meditation are meant for me and me alone, but I can assure you they were profound and life-changing.
Speaking of profound moments, one day my friends and I visited one of the large Hindu temples in Chennai. The temple was amazing, but the most interesting thing was the wedding that was occurring off to one side. People were gathered around a young couple wearing traditional clothing who were adorned with hundreds of flowers. We decided to watch the ceremony for a while. As time passed, we began to make friends with the brides brother. The next thing I knew, we were taking pictures with the wedding party, sitting with the grandparents, and hugging the bride and groom. The family invited us to the reception where we enjoyed a traditional meal served atop a palm leaf. To get there, we walked barefoot for about five to six blocks through the filthy streets, an experience that everyone should try at least once. We later learned that the bride and groom had only met days before the ceremony.
India is an extremely beautiful and complex place. By the end of any trip there, you will be very ready to leave. The dirt, smells, sights, poverty and energy wear on every ounce of your being. Strangely, days after leaving, I had a craving to go back. I hear that's how it works with everyone who has been to India, even those who are from there. During my six days in the country, I only saw a small glimpse of the incredible intricacy of this world. While many SASers saw the Taj Mahal, I did not--an excuse to go back I presume. Indeed, I still need to watch the sun rise on the Taj, witness a cremation on the banks of the Ganges in Varanasi, feel the energy that flows through Bombay, and visit the Bodhi Tree where Buddha found enlightenment.
So I have found that it is true what they say, once a person sees India, they will forever see the world in a different light. Of all the places I have been, India is first on my return-trip-list. I still have so much to write about Singapore and Vietnam, but tomorrow I already pull into Hong Kong. My fingers cannot keep up with the pace of this voyage. I promise to catch you up to date before I hit Japan. Until then, keep it real out there in cyber-land.
p.s. My stomach was fine with the food in India. However, the food on board the MV Explorer is a different story.
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