As I watched one hot sunny afternoon the air conditioned comfy tour bus, filled with white face faces pull away, I wondered why I sat on the dusty,dirty curb waiting for the National rickety bus to barrel down the road to take me to my next stop.
I took my seat at the open window and felt the fresh breeze on my face from the mountainous air and smiled. Across from me sat two wildly gorgeous Hindi gypsy women lavished in vibrant red and purple saris.Their jewels started on their fingers and their bracelets covered both arms right up to their shoulders. They had a large piece of festive cloth that they tied to the seat handles in front of them making a unique crib for their baby. Another son was dressed from the waist up only. Their husbands who paid no attention to them during the almost four hour trip wore white, with red turbans and they were great to look at as well. At the front of the bus was a Muslim woman who was having a bout with an Indian man. Of course I could not understand one word, but she was screaming at the top of her lungs and putting him in his place. I sat mesmerized the entire trip and why I take the local bus.
It has been much the same here in India for the past six weeks. I feel like I have been on a continuous movie set, part of a strange new world. I have not read more than a few page of Gandhi's auto biography as life is far too interesting; so I watch, witness and then I sleep.
They told me not to come. What are you nuts? India alone? at 75? It is different, the sickness, the poverty, the dirt, the filth. At least take an organized tour or at the very least have an itinerary. I listened, but I believed more in myself and how I like to travel.
I have seen all of the Temples, Palaces and Forts that I care to see. I have walked the narrow packed cobblestone paths in their town along side of loving cows. I watch them drink out of public water fountains and had flirtations with many. The dogs roam on the other side of me and monkeys jump over head. I played tic tack toe jumping over the cow shit and dog shit and missed twice. The horns beep from the thousands of motor cycles, rickshaws and cars. Here they ask you to please beep and they do till you want to scream from the noise. The merchants are pushy and try everything to lure you into their shops and again you want to scream "get away from me" and I did.
I have met lovely people and have met myself over and over again. The shopping is beyond fun and must admit I have gone nuts. My favorite kind of day is cash machine, rick shaw, shop. Next day, cash machine, rick shaw, shop. I have never felt more self indulged.
On the whole, the people are lovely and kind and will do anything to help you. One man gave up his desk and phone for 45 minutes while I tried to correct an airline ticket I bought; bad enough to do in the States. They do not smoke, but chew tobacco instead. While the streets are filled with dirt and dust, the people are clean. The weather has been divine. Rain for one hour the entire 6 weeks.
I witnessed the most poverty at the train stations. Children sleeping on the cement, rats running around, beggars and the terribly deformed with beautiful smiling faces.Then a cow wanders in and I shook my head and laughed. Once on the train there were banana peels under my seat, so I called the attendant. He stooped down, looked and stared and had no idea what I wanted him to do. So I slept with banana peels under my bed.
What is so fascinating about India is that each place is different. The Indians are wildly colorful,I have swam in the Ganges along side of cows, enjoyed the fresh water pools; The Taj Mahal will never let me forget my 75th birthday and to watch the prayers and their cleansing in the river is amazing.
There seems to be plenty of food and a lot of the children are well schooled. In the slum areas they are put to work early depending on their parents. One morning I went out to get my wash that I hung on the line only to see across the field a shack with a mother and two babies. I thought to myself, how can live be this divided. I wandered over to meet them and was invited into their shack. There was one cot, and blankets on the cement floors for the children. They cooked outside, I gave them some money and when I said goodbye I crossed the field back into my life of swimming pools, massages, gorgeous room and delicious food. There by the grace of God go I.
