Incredible India

India. There is no way to fully and adequately describe the richness of our experiences in India. All we know is that we are destined to go back one day, as the land, people, food, markets, culture, smells, sights and magic of India will tug on our heart strings forever.

This will be hard to do, but here goes...

India.

Take away your paved roads, your seatbelts, your car seats and your rules. Forget your highspeed internet, your DVD and MP3 players, your cordless phones and even your trusty electricity. Say goodbye to toilets, toilet paper, showers and soap; say hello to squatters (sometimes even a hole in the ground), bucket baths and a serious supply of hand sanitizer. There are no safety standards, quality assurance, guarantees or refunds. No hairnets, no gloves, no tongs...no worries.

Imagine life without public garbage cans or recycling bins, where people throw litter out of car and train windows because there is no other place to put it. Picture animals everywhere: dogs strolling around without owners, cows roaming the streets, chickens pecking about in the gutters and goats shuffling slowly through the marketplace.

Let go of all notions of organized and safe travel. Your bus will likely pull-over 4 times for fixing on 6 hour trip, and most of the journey will undoubtedly be spent in the oncoming lane as your driver is convinced that the other vehicles aren't going quite fast enough. If you don't have a reservation on a public bus or train, you fight (literally) for a seat or you will be standing for a few hours.

Let go of your conventional ideas of politeness and honesty. It becomes very clear early on that everyone thinks you are a walking bank machine. Your rickshaw driver will insist that the bus station is 5 km away and attempt to charge you double, when your map clearly indicates that it is merely 2. So you bargain furiously with him, until he gives in. You pass 15 taxi cabs in row and every single driver will ask if you need a ride, knowing very well that you already said "no thank you" to the previous 14 drivers.

You forget what its like to have personal space. Every street, bus, train, restaurant, and marketplace is packed with people. You are no longer shocked to see people sleeping in the train station, on the sidewalks, on the curb, on a table, on top of car, inside a car, underneath a car.

You get used to open mouthed stares, constant attention and an extreme lack of privacy. You become familiar with sayings like "what is your good name, sir?" and "from which country are you?"and "one rupee please?". You quickly learn that you can't believe everyone, you can't talk to everyone and you can't help everyone, although you desperately want to.

You realize how much of an impact you have on the world.

India.

You begin to relax about rules. You realize that the world as we know it is over-regulated. Once you survive the first unpaved road, you begin to enjoy the scenery of the route. You point out every banana plantation and rice field, every flowering tree, every mountain in the distance. You take advantage of the unexpected stop on the roadside, because you realize you had to pee anyway. You're glad there are no seatbelts, because you remember how uncomfortable they are. You enjoy the thrilling speed at which your bus driver (and all the other vehicles) are going. The faster he goes, the sooner you'll get there.

You realize that there is life beyond the internet, and that if you could actually find a decent service, you may end up spending all afternoon staring at the screen rather than discovering some ancient ruins. It becomes a fun game to count the number of power outages in your room at night, and you leave a flashlight by your bed, just in case.

You soon become accustomed to squatting and remember to have toilet paper handy in your pocket. You realize how much water you save when you bathe with a bucket and how long your hair can go without a shampoo.

You eat the samosas even if they seller uses his hand to pick them up and then wraps them in a piece of yesterday's newspaper, because you realize that despite this conduct, they still don't make you sick. And they are deliciously irresistible. So you have them everyday, over and over until you can't eat another samosa.

Although you can't bring yourself to litter, you realize that there are people and animals who rely on the garbage that ends up on the ground. The free roaming animals eat whatever food scraps they can find amidst the rubble and the poor scrounge around for bits of plastic, metal and cardboard they can sell. By the end of the day, much of the garbage has found its way from the ground to somewhere...more useful.

You eventually understand that the persistent badgering of taxi drivers and shopkeepers is simply an unyielding dedication to their jobs. It's nothing personal, they're just trying to make a living. You embrace this fact and learn to love the challenge of bargaining and friendly arguing. You realize that relatively, you ARE rich...even if by Canadian standards you're not. So its okay to get over-charged now and then.

You feel lonely when you aren't constantly surrounded by people. You watch in awe as the beautiful cityscape, filled with hundreds of brightly coloured, golden trimmed saris blowing the wind, leaves you breathless.

You ignore the staring. You understand that people are just interested in you because you are so different.

Above all, once you've strolled through the mystical marketplaces, tasted the divine spices of the curry dishes, viewed the rolling hills, boulderous mountains and huge canyons, met the bright-eyed little girls in their saris, watched the changing colours of the sunsets, found yourself lost in the winding cobblestone alleyways, searched for tigers and wild elephants in the teak tree forests, seen the Taj Mahal unveiled in all its greatness...once you've really discovered the magic of India, you will leave of piece of your heart there.