As a tourist India has been an adventure, but as a student it has been upsetting.
It's the amazing fun India that leads visitors to fall in love with the culture and excitement of the country, and in many cases start to emulate the Indian way of life (or aspects of it). The French embassy unofficially calls the extreme version of this "schizophrenic India"; a term they apply to nationals that require rescuing after doing something only locals should do. Fully submerging in or drinking from Mother Ganges on the Varanasi ghats, which lies beyond the point where the water starts to run septic or at the point where trash, floating animal carcasses and raw sewage rattle your senses, being one key example.
After a month in India and a week to go I can say I've been able to let go and feel comfortable in this country.
India's rich history means that wherever you go there is something to see: a 13th century Jain temple with 1,400 carved columns, no two the same; an ancient fort still used today; another fort with powerful architecture, excellent views and detailed rooms preserved from the time when maharajahs were powerful; and, the head of Shiva carved into a rock and periodically washed by tides on a popular beach in Goa.
Religion is there too, adding colour and depth to everything. Ganesha - the elephant headed god for good luck - is in auto rickshaws, offices and shops all over the place. In one shop trying to sell saris to Steph I spotted a rat casually walking along the merchandise. The owner informed me of the rat's religious significance and then fed it some chapatti. Transportation of all forms is routinely held up in cities by cows, allowed to co-exist on the streets only because of their holiness. Diwali, the festival of lights, takes place in October and is a time for thunderous fireworks. On the main day of the holiday our yoga instructor in Udaipur invited us into his home to meet his family, eat a special meal, and dodge his son's arsenal of bangers. And last, are the holy men who loiter in the squares and near the temples contently watching the day go by.
History and religion are fine, but it's the travel and adventure that motivate me, including, the auto rickshaw journeys down crowded streets; convincing the bicycle-rickshaw driver to let me drive him where I want to go while in Agra; the camel trek in Thar desert complete with dinner under the stars after viewing the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen; cruising by scooter to the beaches and towns of Goa with the rhythm of the last of the season's monsoon rains tapping and crashing all around us; avoiding bats in Jaisalmer's fort, rats in the Agra train station, monkeys at dusk at a hill temple in Jaipur and cows and dogs absolutely everywhere; and last, getting a hot chai tea to my berth after traveling overnight by train to a new place just waiting to be explored.
Picture me now - Jodhpur pants, Nehru collared shirt, and open-toed sandals. I've got a pirated copy of the White Tiger in one hand and a banana lassi in a clay cup from a street stall in the other. After reading a few pages that provide some insight into the real India and finishing my sour yogurt drink I'm confidently walking the streets without a care about the mess that lies beneath my exposed toes. I'm finding the train station rats cute, instead of counting them in dread. I'm on a full Indian diet and embracing all washroom facilities - even those found on the train. I'm comfortable in India and have fully adopted the traveler's very pseudo and luxurious version of an Indian way of life.
But -- I can't get too comfortable here, I've been a student for far too long.
Today we arrived in Varanasi, India's most holy city; the Canadian Embassy doesn't have to worry about me. You can be sure that no part of my body is going to submerge into the Ganges during our visit here. I get that it is holy, but how anyone can regularly bathe in such polluted water is beyond me. I've really taken to India and all it has to offer, but there's a lot that keeps me from getting too comfortable.
We got hassled by touts daily and they got the better of us a couple times (Mr. Raj of Jodhpur I'm looking at you in particular). We had our fair share of stomach upsets and sore throats. And, because of these things anxieties ran high the whole time concerning scams, security and health. But these minor annoyances aren't what really stopped me from fully embracing India. Rather it's the state of the country in more general terms that keeps me from getting too comfortable.
It's heartbreaking to see so many dirty children on the streets working to survive rather than learning in schools. Just as it was sickening to see an elderly woman live out the last of her days covered in flies and suffering outside the steps of a busy store. The poverty in India is as sad as I was told it would be, but that doesn't make it any easier to accept.
Trash and pollution are inescapable, period. There are garbage piles everywhere you go, from narrow pathways to Goan beaches, and from temple entrances to the middle of busy streets. If these garbage piles have not been set alight then they are feeding grounds for rats, goats, pigs, dogs and cows. The air quality in Delhi and Agra was so dehabilitating that we were unwilling to spend more time than we had to in either place. Now, on a per capita basis Canadians produce far more waste than the average Indian, of that there is no dispute, however, I am left thinking that there is almost no waste management in India. Garbage piles and thick air must be taking an enormous toll on the health of Indians - I feel it and I've only been here a month.
Oddly enough a giant decaying Agra tourist map on a billboard outside the main Agra train station brought a lot of this into focus for me. I took a picture because at first I thought it was funny - in a cynical sort of way. At one of the main points of arrival for the Taj Mahal, India's most recognizable tourist attraction, there's nothing more welcoming visitors than a destroyed 30 year old sign. As I was taking the picture a nearby auto rickshaw driver softly said, "I know, I know. I'm sorry, my government is broken." Now fixing this sign should hardly be a priority for Indian governments given the situations I described above, but it's presence there in the state it's in combined with the auto rickshaw driver's sad statement seemed to suggest an element of hopelessness about the state of affairs.
Now, for me as a tourist corruption has just been a minor annoyance, but for many Indians it must be a death sentence. In the White Tiger the main character's father dies of TB in an understaffed rural hospital because of a scam that allowed doctors to falsely claim compensation for seeing patients in public rural health facilities when in actual fact they worked full time in private hospitals. Throughout this fiction the main character is witness to considerable government corruption. After witnessing such profound poverty and mess in much of India I can't help but wonder how accurate an account this book really is.
So, I have valued my time in India, but I'm even more aware of just how lucky we are to live in Canada. As we leave India my thoughts are definitely focused on a lot of the problems we witnessed.
No comments:
Post a Comment