I'm Home

Whenever I return from India (or Thailand or Nepal) it alters my view of the US.

For some period of time when I come home I see things through "India
eyes". It's so different here once I've been there. To a degree the
"India eyes" are always present; that is one of the reasons I go
overseas.

Traveling is so easy here in the US by comparison. The longest stretch
I covered in India traveling by ground was an epic drive from the
airport in New Delhi to Rishikesh (discussed in an earlier post).

That ride was only 224 km; it took about eight hours and left my
traveling companion completely dazed.

As I write this I'm on an Amtrak train sitting next to a lovely woman
named Sandra in a comfortable seat watching the pristine landscape
roll by.

I'll be traveling 824 km today from Fairfax Virginia to Charleston
South Carolina. The trip will take 10 hours.

Today there are no roads morphing into dirt tracks, no piles of a
liter or shanty towns. Only clean water, trees and a couple of bald
eagle sightings thrown in for good measure.

There's not a speck of garbage on this train, everyone has a seat,
there is a dining car and the air is climate controlled.

This "normal "feels like the height of luxury, as did my trip to the
dry cleaner the other day to get the new hippie jacket I bought in
Rishikesh cleaned.

I walked into the pristine glass front building with the clearly
delineated queue, television playing to pass the time. Long racks of
clothes, each sheathed in plastic, spin on a giant motorized carousel.
Laundry there consists of my hands and a bucket, or for many who live
there, the river and a rock.

I can't adequately describe the disparity between these laundry realities.

Or the disparity of my experience buying fruit.

Or the experience of simply walking down the street.

It all feels so cushy here, so luxurious.

It' nice to be home :)

Hmmm

(Written during week 9 of the trip, posted later)

I was talking to a friend at home the other day about starting to feel physically depleted from my trip. Emotions and spirit are strong but the body is fatigued a bit.

She asked me if I thought that most people who come here for a few months feel depleted this way or whether it was just me in particular.

Her question has been rolling around in my head the past couple of days. 
Not sure why this question has engaged mind but it did so I'll share what arose.

There are a number of reasons why I in particular get physically depleted around the two month mark in India. 

Part of it is that I am attune to what is occurring in my body and mind. I spend a significant amount of time in various forms of meditation (my asana practice being one of those forms). As a result I have a strong sense of what my body and mind feel like as a baseline.

Another factor is that I am sensitive both emotionally and energetically. There is no way to accurately describe the effect that the sensory stimulation here has on the nervous system. I roll with it smoothly however, I think I underestimate the effect all the noise in particular has on me. 

I often live in quiet places and although the frequent loud honking of horns doesn't make me jump, it does cause a physiological effect.

Another part of it is that I am used to eating very cleanly...virtually no processed food, minimal amounts of dairy, wheat, sugar and fried foods, no alcohol, no drugs, no tobacco. I think this results in me having a lower tolerance to eating in an unhealthy way because my body is so used to getting good input. 

And finally the reality is that I am 4 weeks shy of being 54 years old. 

My lifestyle is that of someone in their 30s. In my mind I am ageless but there are realities of the body. I think that is something that I don't take into account much because I am strong enough to do this, but surely my chronological age must be a factor too.

I am curious to know whether other people within 10 years of my age get depleted while they're here. Surely they must. Interestingly, of all of the people that I talk with I am the only one who doesn't get stomach issues here. But then again I am more cautious than most in what I consume, it worked for me every other time so I continue to do it.

Rishikesh

Although Rishikesh is a big tourist destination for both Indians and Westerners at it's core it is a seeker's place and has been for countless years. That is why I like it here so much; I've been fortunate to have spent five weeks in Rishikesh on two separate occasions.

Many ashrams and gurus reside here. The air is replete with the sounds of chanting, bajans and bells. Each night as the sun sets arati (light) ceremonies can be seen and heard all along the water's edge.

It is so very India here and yet, as I said in an earlier blog post, there are enough Westerners around to afford me a level of comfort with regard to accommodations and food.

I've grown accustomed to the myriad sights, sounds, smells and tastes not to be found where I live  but while they're fresh in mind I want to try to describe some of them.

The sadhus here are numerous and of different types. Many who wander the streets in orange robes are visiting from somewhere else, there are turbaned men living in makeshift shelters or literally on the road or on the ground, there are those whose entire bodies are covered with holy ash and there are those who appear mad.

There are also those that sit and smoke lots of hash in little cylindrical clay pipes. A number of them have offered to sell me some, to which I reply "no thank you, I don't need it" and walk on with a smile because I truly don't.

Many animals also wander the streets here. The brown furred monkeys who steal food right out of people's hands as they walk by, the beautiful black faced grey furred monkeys who are bigger and mellower, dogs who lay on the ground sleeping so stock-still that you truly think they could be dead.

And of course there are the cows. So many cows on the streets, amongst the traffic, along the ghats. They are the objects of a great deal of affection. Some are decorated with painted horns, occasionally you'll see one wearing a beaded necklace. People pet them, feed them and turn on the public water faucets for them so they can quench their thirst. Many of them seem quite healthy and of course some do not. Overall I would say more cows appear healthy proportionally then dogs.

And of course there is no describing Rishikesh without mentioning her most salient future, Ma Ganga.

I have said in previous posts the Ganges is a beautiful river here and she is both an object of veneration and used as a source for everyday life tasks like laundry.

Flowered offerings drift by as one sits on her banks. Leaf baskets containing flower petals, burning camphor and incense serve as little boats ferrying prayers to the Divine ear.

Every day, all day, people come to bathe in her sacred water. I never get tired of witnessing this. There is something endlessly fascinating about this spectacle of color, skin and devotion.

Traditional Indian style chai stalls via for attention with the new fancy glass fronted coffee stores. The traditional stalls, whose chai is a fraction of the price, are primarily frequented by Indian people. The chai is made in well worn pots over an open flame and is laced with enough sugar to fulfill any dentist's dreams of avarice. Fortunately the serving size is minuscule by bloated American standards.

Rishikesh is paradoxical in that one can be experiencing a vista which appears placid to the eyes  while at the same moment is an all out assault on the auditory sense.

It's the honking that really gets me. It is the one thing that genuinely challenges my equanimity. A little toot to indicate one's presence would suffice to get attention but most drivers lack the Japanese aesthetic. When it comes to using the horn more is not less here.

And so I bid farewell to this place, to India and Sri Lanka. It's been a spectacular trip...