Across the Universe

Almost 20 years ago, I was having a conversation with my old Auntie Mame (yes, I have an Auntie Mame). We were talking about traveling. At that point in my young life, I had only been to France, England, Canada and the Caribbean. I asked Mame if she had ever been to Europe, and she said she had not. I was so surprised because I remember her telling me so many travel stories. I told her, ”Well, you MUST go! Paris and London are so fabulous!” Because, like, I knew, being such a seasoned traveler at age 27. She quickly said, “A” – my family calls me “A” – “London and Paris are just like New York. You have to go to the Far East…it’s like another planet!” And the first time I was in Asia, I totally got it. She was right. In Europe, with the Latin-based languages, you can still decipher menus and street signs. And my high-school French could still get me a glass of wine and directions to the bathroom. But in Asia, good luck using that high school French (except for parts of Vietnam)! But after four months traveling around Japan, China, Taiwan, Korea, Vietnam, Thailand, Laos, Malaysia, Indonesia…even Burma, for God’s sake…and a five-week “break” in New Zealand/Australia, we were ready for India. Or so we thought. “Another planet” didn’t even begin to adequately describe India. We were not ready.

Two emails should have warned me what we were in for… The first note is from my cousin who spent her honeymoon in India:

“India is an amazing, magnificent, terrifying, heartbreaking, and unbelievably beautiful place. Please be safe.”

The second is from a college friend, and an extremely seasoned world traveller:

“I loved it there. Absolutely crazy. Crazier than almost anything I’d ever seen. And amazing food.”

All I saw was “amazing, magnificent” …blah, blah, blah… “amazing food”…blah, blah, blah. “Terrifying”, “heartbreaking”, “crazy”, “be safe…”: missed all that. For the time being…

We started our month in India in Mumbai, and then traveled up to Rajasthan (Udaipur, Jodhpur and Jaipur). Then we trained over to Agra and the Taj Mahal. Up to Delhi. Then to Rishikesh/Lakshman Jhula, and finally ended in Varanasi. And everywhere we turned, India was an assault on the senses. To wit:

Smell: It’s true: India smells delicious. This is strange for 2 reasons: One, it’s so dang hot, you would think it would smell like B.O. And two, there are cows everywhere so you’d think it would smell like manure. (And it does, but only close to the cows.) But these two scents are not the predominant odors. The spices, the food, the smell of the flowers and the trees wafting through the hot air. I understand people’s use of the word “intoxicating” after spending time there. Even when they’re burning bodies in religious ceremonies in Varanasi, you can smell the smoke, but it’s not unpleasant or overwhelming. This mix of smells – from sandalwood to dung to body odor to everything else – it may not always smell delicious, but it is indeed fragrant, and ever-present.

Taste: We had some amazing meals in India. Tikka Masala (of course), thalis, raita in many different flavors, the most delicious lassis, and so many other things I don’t remember the name of. After a month there, I did miss beef…and I’m still on a break from Indian food for now…but I’m really excited to get to London this fall and head straight to Brick Lane!

Touch: When I thought of India before actually going there, I thought of fantastic markets, crowded with tents and people, spices and textiles with incense clouding the air. Like that scene from Indiana Jones but without the murdering thieves/chase scene part. (I actually think that was set in Morrocco, but you get my point.) Well the real India lived up to this image in my head, with just one adjustment: Add about 100,000 more people to this market!

India is a VERY crowded place. Home to 1.2 billion people. In comparison, the population of the US is only 314 million people. And India is just 1.3 million square miles in area, where the US is 3.8 million square miles. Sorry, enough math. Just look at this map:

Four times the people in 1/3 of the space. And these numbers don’t take into account all of the cows! And man, there are a lot of cows. And cars and scooters. Long story short, lots of people, lots of cows, lots of beeping. Those of you that know John well know he does not like crowds. John was out of luck. There was no where to escape the crowds. And those of you who know me well know I do not like to be touched by strangers. The good news for me was it’s not kosher in India for men to touch strange women, so there was no unwanted touching (thank God!). Strange men did try to “help” us with our luggage outside every hotel, airport, and train station. And a lot of guys did sidle up next to us and touch John’s arm, tugging him to come into this store or that one (which only made John want to “touch” some of those guys with five folded fingers of discipline). But the only “touching” story that I have is this one, which was kinda sweet…

One day, in Lakshman Jhula (a holy city, and a DRY town, by the way! Travel tip: BYOB!), we were crossing the very crowded pedestrian bridge over the River Ganges from one side of town to the other. On this bridge there are people, scooters, cows, cow pies, and monkeys that steal food and sunglasses. Well, this older Indian woman had some biscuits that she was feeding to a monkey (bad idea!). I passed her and looked over and smiled and she smiled back. Then she started walking next to me (and staring…a lot of staring in India) but she was smiling and she was a woman so it was ok. Then I thought she was going to hand me a biscuit so I could feed the monkeys, I guess. But she didn’t. She just brushed up against my hand with her hand. I was confused but didn’t think much of it. Then this older Indian guru (complete with robe and turban and no shoes) who was walking behind both of us laughed. He came up to me and said, “she wants to touch you…she thinks you are a big white angel.” If only he didn’t say “big” it would have been perfect.

(SIDE NOTE: I did get asked to have my picture taken an exorbitant amount of times. I felt famous! Or, I guess, I felt white. The same thing happened to us in China, but much, much less frequently.)

Sight: There are a lot of things you can’t un-see in India. Most of these things happen along the side of the train tracks as your going through a small town. There’s not much indoor plumbing happening in small-town India, and not many outhouses either. People are just squatting there, on the side of the tracks, doing their “morning business” for the world to see. No shame. Women can’t show their ankles in public, but they can pull up their sari and cop a squat just about anywhere.

Also, I’m not sure there’s anywhere else in the world you can see a public cremation. Lucky you, they don’t allow photography along the banks of the Ganges in Varanasi where these cremations take place. Hundreds of people (locals, tourists and cows, alike) all come out to watch and send their loved ones off in a blaze of glory.

In addition to the call of nature and burning corpses, there are certainly many other beautiful things to see in India, but you’ve already seen them in books, right?

Sound: If you read John’s “Crosstown Traffic” post, you know most of what we heard in India was taxi drivers trying to give us a ride (or rather, take us for a ride) and touts trying to sell us something. We also heard a cacophony of beeping. India isn’t a quiet place. Even at night, stray dogs howl incessantly.

We did hear some cool Bollywood songs, like this one:

Catchy, right?

The Beatles famously spent some time in Rishikesh getting their India on (the hippies are still hanging out there), and after their stay they wrote a number of songs that were influenced by Indian music and culture. I don’t know the full story behind John Lennon’s lyrics to “Across the Universe” but this line captures a bit of India for me:

Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind…

But then he goes on to repeat, perhaps in defiance, “nothing’s gonna change my world, nothing’s gonna change my world…”

Well, India, you definitely changed my world. Namaste, Mom!