Will my ears recover? - Stories from India

Recently, I completed my first trip to India. The country is enormous! In my three weeks, I only visited 3 places in the northern part, but in that time, there were too many things that went on. The honking was the worst part. It’s something that I never got used to. I still don’t understand the social rules or expectations here, but I guess that’s life. Here’s a few stories that made me laugh or feel uncomfortable.

Masala Dosa

One of my last days in India, I was in Jaipur eating a masala dosa and writing in my journal. A young man approached me making small talk. In India, there was never a moment when I was out in public that someone didn’t approach. “What are you writing?” he asked which was a nice change from the typical, “Where are you from?”

I told him I was writing about my experiences in India. 

“How do you like India?” he followed up with a big smile. His buddies were watching the interaction from the front of the counter. I took one of my earplugs out.

“The food is delicious and all the spices, colorful art and clothing is amazing! But I can’t stand all this noise!” I said honestly. 

“Noise?” he said, his English not following.

“Beep beep! Beep beep! Beep beep!” I imitated and this caused an eruption of laughter from everyone eavesdropping on the conversation. For the next 10 minutes, I watched the man go to different people around the street translating our brief conversation and always getting a big laugh at the Beep beep. 

The masala dosa from this story served on leaf pressed plates.

Dancing in Domino's

On our mission to find a service provider that would sell a foreigner a sim card, I had to use the bathroom. Luckily, there were no public toilets anywhere. Not on the street, not at the restaurant, and not at Airtel, the data provider. When it became close to unbearable, the man assisting me with my phone told me to go to Domino's across the street. 

Out the door and in the American chain, I was happy to find a western toilet with a bidet, toilet paper, and a mostly clean sink. Leaving the private bathroom, I was greeted by a dining room filled with Indians staring at me. I smiled awkwardly and waved, but no one blinked or waved back. Feeling uncomfortable by the attention, I started dancing. 

I shimmied my shoulder here, did a little 2 step there, Suzie Q, Suzie Q, turn around and pose! I danced my way through the hall to the exit. I laughed at myself and returned my attention to the audience. No one was laughing. They were all still staring.

I did a curtsy and ran out the door.

Welcome to the Scammer Shop

On my last day in India, Johan and I were standing at a table eating some street food when a guy approached me to make conversation. He asked if we would go visit a shop. He said that he gets 200 rupee ($3) for bringing tourists to the shop and some commission if we buy anything. I still wanted to get a magnet for my cousin, so we decided to go. When we arrived, the shop was quite fancy with a plethora of things: sculptures, hand woven rugs, silver, jewelry, wooden souvenirs, musical instruments, etc. Johan was skeptical. We were greeted politely and then shown to the 3rd floor where I could find some magnets. A woman showed me a box of items and made nice conversation while I tested the strength of the magnets until I found one that I liked. I was still paroozing when a man approached us. The woman left to find some more magnets and the man aggressively handed me different pieces telling me, “Buy this one. Buy this one. Look, ‘I love India.’ You love India don’t you? Buy it. It’s nice.”

“You’re not helping,” I said to him directly and then walked away.

After that, the woman offered me the magnet for 100 INR less than her original asking price.

This place was weird.

Before I said yes to the magnet, Johan and I ventured down a floor to look at some silver.

“Did you buy anything yet?” a man questioned before we even finished with the stairs. The aggressive sales strategy continued as the guy argued with Johan that his price for silver was reasonable. Johan had just spent the last 2 days talking with different shops and selecting pieces that he plans to sell in Europe. I sat next to Johan while the salesman yelled at him that he didn’t know what he was talking about. Then, asserted that “The madam” (me) would like a necklace.  

“I’m good with stones and macrame,” I thought to myself while we left to look at the carpets.

The carpet salesman was quite nice. He spoke English and French and was effective at communicating with us and giving us a good experience. When the salesman mentioned free shipping to Europe and being a government supported company, Johan decided to take their card, but the salesman seemed sad.

When we got back to our hotel, Johan asked Chat GPT about the carpet prices and found them to be suspiciously low. Chat GPT told us that the shop was actually illegitimate. A fake. They were imitating a different company with a similar name that was government supported for high standards and quality assurance. Chat GPT told us that we dodged a bullet by not purchasing from them. 

Chance Conversation

When I realized that the yoga ashram was only 15 kilometers away from Rishikesh, I decided to trek there. It was more challenging than I thought because I had to go up 1000 meters. I ended up on a trail that a lot of Indians use to visit a popular temple on the top of the hill. Walking alone among the group, people couldn’t help but stare at me and my backpack. While resting on a rock, a young university student approached me. She asked if I was Indian and then which country I was from. Apparently, her friends ditched her after 3 kilometers and told her to go catch up to me for company.

At first, I was going faster than her even with my heavy load. I was happy to be moving my body. Every few steps, she’d let out a heavy sigh and a, “Hare Krishna! This is hard!” because she was so unaccustomed to trekking. It seemed like most of the Indians were out of breath and shocked at my steady pace up the hill. 

“I would offer to help you carry your bag, but honestly, if I take any more weight, I might faint!” she exhaled in exasperation. 

In our conversation, we talked about detachment, life, relationships, and the strangeness of Indians’ behavior towards foreigners. It was interesting to hear her perspective on her own culture. It validated my feelings of overwhelm and my experiences. She assured me that the man who grabbed me by the river was out of line and that wasn’t typical behavior, but that I needed to be careful and cautious when walking alone. My favorite was her comment on the staring. 

“They’re honestly just curious. They see something interesting that makes them curious and that’s fine! Take a glance and then move on, but so many people just stare,” her eyes bulged out and she flung her arms towards the ground. “Even worse are the shameful people who approach you and ask for a photo! Hare Krishna! Have some decency!”

In the end, we’d walk together a little over an hour before my weight slowed me down and she found the pep in her step to blaze forward in the name of God. Though I didn’t catch her name and will probably never see her again, I was very grateful for her attitude, perspective, and company.

A group of Indian men on the trail to a sacred Hindu temple.

Final Thoughts

There were a million little things that caught me by surprise. For example, how difficult it is to buy a train ticket! I have so many stories from India that stand out in my mind. When Johan and I were reminiscing, the list of strange mishaps or surprising acts of kindness went on and on. After 3 weeks, the only thing I learned was how to ignore people the correct way so that they leave me alone. I imagine it would require at least a year of immersion to really begin to understand the subtleties and nuances of Indian culture, but I’m not that motivated. Next time, I’ll likely be more intentional about yoga and ashrams and hopefully, I’m not as culture shocked as this time.

Alright reader, that’s it for this one. As always, thank you for reading my work! If you feel like you’re getting value from my content and would like to support my craft, you can offer a donation at Buy Me a Coffee or consider subscribing for more, exclusive, content. Thanks for your love and support. Cheers to a healthy humanity!