India is a land of contrasts with its fabulous sights and foods(!!), along with some of the kindest people to be found, while also being a seemingly directionless and perplexing experience. The pros of the country make it a favorite on their own, but it's not the prestige. What makes it tops is that it's the Wild West of my 8 year old mind.
The Wild West explanation might be best illustrated in an anecdote.
I am in Fahtepur Sikri, a 30 minute bus ride outside of Agra (home to the Taj Mahal). A lack of signs and people put my ability to even get to FS in serious jeopardy. I did make it though and had a wonderful day jumping around Mughal ruins. As 5 o'clock approached, I made my way to the bus station to catch the last bus back. Sadly, after an hour of losing precious rupees to a 12 year old arm wrestling champion I realized that this bus wasn't coming. What did the Good Word have to say about my predicament? I found out that there's a bus that comes a quarter mile down the road (rather cryptic no?).
This kid took some cash off meOn my way over I picked up two Chinese girls (I shared a bus ride up with them and figured they might want to get back as much as I did) who had the same goal in mind; they looked more lost than I and were still holding on to the fast fading light of plan A. I convinced them to follow me in an attempt to find a bus I couldn't count on; just like that I had formed a posse. Talking to locals along the road, I had a rough idea of where to wait for this bus. Was there a bus stop or at least a sign that said where to wait? Of course not -- this is India without direction. I set up shop at a (reverse?) fork in the road where two highways merged with no idea from which direction the bus might appear. I was also feeling the heat from the embers of ire from Chinese girls who at this point must have been trying to recollect the early plot developments of the movie Hostel so that they could compare their situation accordingly. Now, let me say that the bus did make its way down the road; we flagged it down as if we had just robbed a bank and were looking for a getaway as cars whizzed by us. The day was won.
What I love is that I didn't remember this story until I stumbled onto it during conversation about my travels with my Aunt Pat three weeks after I had already been home. I preface by saying that most people know I like to spin a story. I can recall stories from the 7th grade with a depressing level of detail. I'm likely to bring one up readily without provocation or a sensible segue. The reason I couldn't remember my day on the highway is because in India it's par for the course. The events that day didn't differ much in difficulty from the one before it or the one that followed. India was my favorite because I forget the stories that would be the belle of the ball anywhere else. I loved Spain -- I'd move there in a heartbeat -- but it was so easy that aspects of it couldn't be anything but comfortable. And to those who say India is too hard? "It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard ... is what makes it great." - Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own
My Mom says that you should never end with someone else's words, but MAN Tom Hanks was great in that movie!
Honestly, the adventure is what really cemented the trip. The country of India -- where I felt lost plenty of the time -- is where that adventure shown through the most. My experiences there will keep me excited for my next trip and the one after that.
