India

I’ve sat down and tried to write this blog post so many times over the past week, and I’ve been mocked by the unmoving, blinking cursor every single time. I don’t know where to start.

I think one of the reason’s I’m having a hard time with India’s post is because I wasn’t able to think clearly in India. My brain was completely frazzled from start to finish. I arrived in Thailand a few days ago. I exhaled stepping out of the airport, and my shoulders dropped revealing how tensed-up and short-breathed I had been for 6 days straight. I do believe that your body holds energy, and mine was absolutely grappling with the stress and discomfort that my brain wasn’t processing in time. It’s moments like these that I’m so appreciative of my blog, because it gives me an outlet to untangle this mess of thoughts coherently and maturely, aside from angry scribbles and curse words in my journal.

Of course, my weekly disclaimer that this is my experience, an entirely subjective perspective. Please don’t interpret this as a commentary of the country as a whole, or a universal take.

We did the “golden triangle”: New Delhi, Agra, and Jaipur. It’s a tourist loop in the north/center of India. Once again, zero other tourists. All the attention was narrowed on us, and this was no glorified spotlight. I have never been leered at more, followed more, photographed more, or touched more than I have here. Look, I get it, who wouldn’t want a photo-op with a gorgeous, hilarious, fair white woman such as myself, but my gosh, I felt like an exhibit in a dystopian zoo. I understand a lot of it is innocent curiosity, but a lot of it very much is not. To name a few examples: men making inappropriate gestures at Andrew about Sarah and I, men non-discreetly taking photos of us (with the flash on), men amassing in haggles and following us around, men circling me with their phone out recording a video, men this, men that. A grandmother posing gently for a photo with me, or some kids running up to say hi, I can tolerate. A man forcing himself beside me for a photo he’ll probably send around saying“new wife!”, I can not. Do you know why I didn’t see many women out and about? Because they stay inside to avoid the harassment. That is my biggest criticism of India. I do not chalk that up to “cultural differences”. Our drugged-up, male hostel host trying to get us to sing, despite our rejections, boasted “No means nothing in India!!!”. I will leave my rant at that.

I tried very hard to keep an open-mind. India definitely had some redeeming qualities. The monkeys, the temples, the Taj Mahal, and being an overall extremely unique experience. The Taj Mahal made my entire trip. We went at 5am, in the dark, to watch the daylight slowly illuminate the site. Magnificent. Made practically entirely of marble, it appears different hues of cream, pink, and blue in different lightings. It was magical watching this illusion. For a few minutes, the three of us just stood still, jaws agape, staring in awe. By far, our most pleasant moment here. I also enjoyed getting a glimpse into a whole new religion. I love the fact that everybody on earth believes in their own form of religion and divine power to help guide them through life. Despite all of our differences, everyone really is just searching for the same purpose. The same answers to the same questions.

Here’s another jaw-dropping moment: our bus driver dumped us in the middle of a 5 lane highway. Yep. Literally in the middle of a lane. We got-got. We got-got real good. I booked us a bus from Delhi to Agra and 4 hours in, our driver stopped in the middle of a busy highway, shook us awake and ushered us off into the middle lane. He said “Agra! Here!” and drove away smugly. Oh, the rage I felt. His buddy must have been a tuktuk driver because I’m certain they had a deal where the bus would drop the 3 tourists off on the highway to be scooped up by the tuktuk driver and fleeced for more money to get into Agra. You will rue the day, Siddharth. Rue it. The tuktuk driver, after already demanding an outrageous amount of dang rupees, tried to scam us thrice by claiming the government scanned his license plate and we owe him more toll money. Take a hike. Literally. Touch grass.

The traffic in India is the most overstimulating thing I could have imagined. Non-stop honking. I simply do not understand. Our slimy tuktuk driver honked at an on-duty ambulance. They drive with four fingers on the wheel and their thumb blaring the horn. One evening, we tried to walk to a restaurant that ended up not even existing, and we had to haggle a tuktuk back because it was unbearable to spend one more second on the street. I’d walk down a less developed street and men would literally grab my arm to pull me into their shop slash house slash dirt floor. I swatted somebody once! And I am not a swatter! I’m telling you, if I was not so averse to violence.. those guys would get some serious.. verbal insults coming their way :(

I feel I couldn’t think because there was never a moment of space, quiet, or security. Absolutely not a place for whimsical daydreaming, and I fear that just isn’t a reality I can happily exist in. I got a whole bunch of bug bites and asked ChatGPT if I have malaria, and it said “Maybe! Or, you could catch any of these other eight life threatening diseases from mosquitos in Jaipur”. Cool cool cool.

We went to a grocery store to buy chicken to cook for ourselves, and the guy handed us a WARM chicken breast with dirt on it. Right after, the power went out, the fridges all turned off, and he goes “don’t worry, this happens all the time”. As if frequent disturbances in the temperature of raw meat is reassuring. Every single day that we were in India, the power went out for a few minutes. We ate curry on the floor of our hotel room, stained everything we owned, transferred a distinct curry smell to all of our drying laundry, and for the rest of the week I survived on diet cokes.

Plot twist: I did not have a terrible time in India. I felt uncomfortable, filthy, and agitated, sure, but I didn’t expect to come to India and be pampered, coddled, or impressed. We’re budget backpacking. I knew India would be jarring for me. I was taken aback at the intensity, but I’m not at all upset with my decision to come. My travel partner, Sarah, loved India! I know that my ‘complaints’ are simply the culture clashing with my personality. I am the outsider on their turf, I know that I am to adjust and interpret accordingly. I like my personal space, peace and quiet, justice, nature, and freedom. It is my preferences that don’t align with India’s norms, not the other way around. If anything, this experience made me that much more grateful for having the liberty to even have those preferences, to have grown up in a balanced society as a comparison.

I’m sure that my reflections on India will evolve the more distance I gain. I’m sorry this post was more negative than the other ones. To end on a positive note, I’M LOVING BANGKOK!