Lissette Lorenz

August, 2013

Warning: This post goes back and forth through time. I have technically been working on it since March. I am finally finishing it now. The best way to follow my train of thought is to pay attention to the dates. SO PAY ATTENTION TO THE DATES, Y’ALL!

April

The new semester at Obirin begins in two weeks. I have been on vacation for two months. They have felt like the quickest two months of my life. If I were to organize what these past couple of months have been like, it would be divided in three parts: pre-India, in-India, and post-India.

February

Pre-India: The first few weeks of spring vacation were spent planning for my trip to India. My co-fellow Peter said he had been wanting to go there and was looking for a travel buddy. After hearing his stories about his travels through China and Thailand, I was itching to experience some out-of-Japan traveling of my own. And since I had never touristically traveled to a foreign country alone, I jumped at the chance to go with someone who had as much free time as I did.

I learned several things about myself during that planning stage, namely that my planning skills are wanting, and that I am perhaps too trusting of government bureaucracy. Peter, being a more seasoned traveler than myself, had suggested months before that we give ourselves plenty of time to apply for our tourist visas. That prompted me to check the Indian government’s website for the application procedures, which stated that American citizens could receive a tourist visa in about a day or two after application at an Indian consulate in Japan. I informed Peter of this, and we then (mistakenly) planned all other parts of our trip before we actually applied for the visas, thinking that it would be a piece of cake. About two weeks before our scheduled departure, we finally made our way over to the visa center, only to be told that the website was outdated, and in fact it takes at least one to three weeks to obtain visas. That would have been okay except for the fact that Peter was bound for Korea the next day, for a week, and couldn’t leave his passport behind for the application. We ended up having to push the flight back two weeks, and then later moving it up a week, after the visas were processed faster than we had anticipated. Our original plan was to stay in India for one month. Now we were looking at about two and half weeks. We had made a costly mistake. We were not off to the best start.

Late February-Early March

In-India: We started off in Kochi in the south; stopped by Madurai to visit Jazmin; flew to Mumbai and Delhi; saw the Taj Mahal in Agra; then visited Christina up north in Daramshala. Here are some excerpts from the journal that I kept while on the trip:

 Arrived at Lady Doak in Madurai to  visit Jazmin at 6 am. Jazmin took us  to the teacher’s mess hall and for  breakfast we had chutney and dosa  and eggs that were meant for Gavin  who was visiting. At the table, Jazmin  swatted mosquitoes with what I will  call her electrocution racket. When  the mosquitoes touch the racket,  they zap into a bright light, sizzle, fry  and scream a faint “EEEEEEE”  sound. Next, refreshing bucket  showers. The toilet needs to be  manually filled with water from the  same shower bucket or else the  toilet’s contents will just dance around the bowl. Later we went to the massive Hindu temple, Meenakshi Amman. We saw no temple elephants, though we did see many worshipers, blessing themselves and their babies. White powder dabbed onto the middle of the forehead or red paint/wax in between the eyes. Black dots on babies’ faces to prevent the evil eye. Fertility stones that ironically looked like tombs to me. I’ve never really experienced a religion that felt so alive and visceral. Way more intense than Sunday mass, in my opinion.

***

I am writing from the Smyle Hotel in New Delhi. This whole trip has been a whirlwind of dust, gasoline, curry and mayhem. We are leaving for Agra tomorrow to see the Taj Mahal. It is supposed to blow my mind. I had really good curry tonight at a restaurant whose chefs supposedly come from a line of royal cooks back in the day of the Moghul rulers over two hundred years ago. I felt bad because we ordered too much food and we couldn’t possibly eat all of it so it probably got thrown away, when just outside on the street there are many beggar-children, women, the elderly, the disabled. I felt spoiled and insensitive. Was I supposed to ask to take it back with me and then have given it to a beggar? Would someone take it? I feel like a stupid, spoiled, cowardly tourist here, amidst all this obvious poverty. India could not be farther removed from Japan in my mind. I am experiencing MAJOR culture shock. I’m not sure I can handle the cut-throat feeling of New Delhi’s streets…

***

Arrived in Daramshala at around 7 am. We watched the sun rise over the Himalayas after a very bumpy/scary bus ride over the cliffs. The view was striking. I also had to pee really bad. I did, and the view from the toilet was worth it all. We made it to Christina’s after a bit of confusion as to which house was hers and stepped into what reminded me of a cozy Hobbit hole. It’s made of all-natural materials, and has its own fireplace. It was very cozy (though she does get lots of critters co-existing with her, eating her roof, etc.) Daramshala’s air is by far the freshest. This place is gorgeous! 

***

I just found a HUGE SCORPION in my journal, sitting above a pressed rose I received in Mumbai. It was as big as my palm, and was a shiny black. Christina helped me fling the book away from us on a far-off road and far away from her house. It might have already been dead when I found it. It may have been looking for a nice place to rest, between the snug pages of a book, beside a flower. But man, scorpions are scary. And to think Christina has seemingly gotten used to their presence! She is a strong woman. 

***

Late March

Coming from my convenient life in Japan, most of my days in India came as a shock. The poverty, the dust, the smog, the haggling, the garbage burning in the streets, the haggling, the garbage clogging the canals, the haggling, the traffic, the crowds, the noise, the haggling—the Japanese wouldn’t stand for it, I thought. My Japanese neighbors would have made so many noise complaints if my neighborhood in Machida were ever so loud as a neighborhood in Delhi. Even though Tokyo is a big and bustling city, its denizens can enjoy clean air, water, and food. I drink tap water from my apartment in Tokyo. I had to drink only bottled water in India. I felt so spoiled for living the life that I do. Why was I fortunate enough to lead a life of comfort with high-tech vending machines while these begging children dressed in tattered hand-me-downs ask me for a few rupees on a dusty road of Mumbai? What can I do in the face of staggering inequality, especially when I’m only in the country for two weeks?

Thankfully, I had Jazmin’s and Christina’s perspective on life in India to balance the shock and guilt that an inexperienced girl like myself was going through. Yes, life in India is hard compared to life in America and Japan, they both told me (in their own way, of course). But there is kindness and beauty along with the squalor and the daily struggle. Jazmin and Christina are strong women that laugh often. They know good people who call India their home and care for it. The parts of India that they shared with Peter and me helped create a richer, more dynamic picture of the country than what Peter and I were gathering just from traveling on our own, with little information except for what was in our guidebook and what our eyes witnessed on the streets. (That is not to say, however, that we didn’t meet great people other than the Shansi fellows and their acquaintances on our journey. Some memorable people include an auto-rickshaw driver who somehow intuited that we lived in Japan; two friendly, young guards at the Taj Mahal, who while both were vastly different in appearance, were both proud to call themselves Indian; and a funny, Kochi backwaters’ tour guide with a huge rice belly and good sense of dramatic pause.) Among other things, my experience in India taught me that 1) I am too sensitive and timid to haggle, 2) I don’t feel comfortable simply being a tourist in a developing country, and instead would want to spend my time volunteering and working with others who are doing kind deeds locally, and 3) always carry small bills and coins, because no one wants to give you change, ever.

April

Post-India: It felt so natural returning to Japan after India. Landing at the Narita Airport, seeing and hearing Japanese everywhere, and watching the mix of rural and urban landscapes pass me by from the express train to Shinjuku were such a comfort to me. I felt like I was returning home. In India I felt like an alien trespassing through uncharted territory. In Japan I feel like I am visiting an old friend. While I feel like I grew a little as a person after my trip to India, I am relieved to be back in my little apartment in Tokyo, preparing lessons for the new semester.

August

My trip to India seems both ages ago and just yesterday. The spring semester officially ended this week, and summer vacation is here. Next on my list of travel destinations is Miami, Florida (to celebrate my sister’s fourth birthday) and then hopefully to Korea, where I’ve never been. May the adventures continue!