The above photo was taken in Kolkata
where our group on the Bare Witness Tour spent most of our time. It’s odd to be
riding along in a bus with cars, motorcycles, bicycle/human rickshaws and
tuk-tuks weaving in and out of lanes, horns honking in a cacophony of noise. It
seems useless to have actual lines on the roads as everyone ignores them…hence
the billboard to encourage people to be more like the Beatles.
where our group on the Bare Witness Tour spent most of our time. It’s odd to be
riding along in a bus with cars, motorcycles, bicycle/human rickshaws and
tuk-tuks weaving in and out of lanes, horns honking in a cacophony of noise. It
seems useless to have actual lines on the roads as everyone ignores them…hence
the billboard to encourage people to be more like the Beatles.
As we walked through streets and lanes,
we needed to be mindful of where we stepped as to dodge cow dung and sinister
looking puddles of the unknown. Smells bombard your senses with a weird mix of
smoke from cooking fires, cow and other species dung, exhaust fumes, incense,
frying oil and Indian spices.
we needed to be mindful of where we stepped as to dodge cow dung and sinister
looking puddles of the unknown. Smells bombard your senses with a weird mix of
smoke from cooking fires, cow and other species dung, exhaust fumes, incense,
frying oil and Indian spices.
The air is thick in both New Delhi and
Kolkata, laden with pollution, smoke and some moisture. Many of us felt as
though we were second hand smokers and some had respiratory infections and
challenges.
Kolkata, laden with pollution, smoke and some moisture. Many of us felt as
though we were second hand smokers and some had respiratory infections and
challenges.
Yet despite the dirt and pollution, I
felt so comfortable, safe and welcomed by often curious locals. My heart would
open every time I was greeted with a “Namaste’ or Namaskar”, accompanied by a
slightly bowed head and either one or both hands over the heart. And although
we had Indian food at virtually every meal, with many of my companions groaning
at the sight and smell of more curry, I loved the rich flavors and comforting
aromas. Not to mention the morning ritual of asking for masala chai,
the milky spiced sweet black tea that welcomed us, not only each morning,
but upon our group’s arrival in many places.
felt so comfortable, safe and welcomed by often curious locals. My heart would
open every time I was greeted with a “Namaste’ or Namaskar”, accompanied by a
slightly bowed head and either one or both hands over the heart. And although
we had Indian food at virtually every meal, with many of my companions groaning
at the sight and smell of more curry, I loved the rich flavors and comforting
aromas. Not to mention the morning ritual of asking for masala chai,
the milky spiced sweet black tea that welcomed us, not only each morning,
but upon our group’s arrival in many places.
Since returning a week ago, I get
questions like “How was it? Did you have a great time? Was it wonderful?”, to
which I have been giving the standard answer of, “it was intense and amazing”.
It’s so difficult to sum up the breadth of the experience in a short answer. My
feelings and emotional ride is best expressed through my blog, and now that I’m
back in the States I am officially in the “re-entry phase” of this whole
adventure.
questions like “How was it? Did you have a great time? Was it wonderful?”, to
which I have been giving the standard answer of, “it was intense and amazing”.
It’s so difficult to sum up the breadth of the experience in a short answer. My
feelings and emotional ride is best expressed through my blog, and now that I’m
back in the States I am officially in the “re-entry phase” of this whole
adventure.
There is something about India that
gets into my skin, my heart and my mind. I love the way they openly worship and
move along with their day. And despite the many confronting situations of our
tour, coming face to face with victims of sex trafficking, I saw hope, play and
love.
gets into my skin, my heart and my mind. I love the way they openly worship and
move along with their day. And despite the many confronting situations of our
tour, coming face to face with victims of sex trafficking, I saw hope, play and
love.
My return to the States throws things
into a slightly different perspective. I have to catch myself from rolling my
eyes at our first world suffering, having seen such unthinkable situations. As
Buddha stated, “we all suffer” and I remember this as I catch up with people in
my own community and hear their stories. Re-entry can be a bit bumpy. I can’t
ignore what I’ve been through as I step back into my own routine. Everything
seems a bit altered and I find myself flashing back to the many faces and
moments that made up my experience in India.
into a slightly different perspective. I have to catch myself from rolling my
eyes at our first world suffering, having seen such unthinkable situations. As
Buddha stated, “we all suffer” and I remember this as I catch up with people in
my own community and hear their stories. Re-entry can be a bit bumpy. I can’t
ignore what I’ve been through as I step back into my own routine. Everything
seems a bit altered and I find myself flashing back to the many faces and
moments that made up my experience in India.
And I realize, that everything isn’t
different…I am.
different…I am.
