As the ship approaches India everything on decks 5 and 6 gets wrapped in plastic, and anything in the close quarters of the gangway is shrink wrapped and covered in cardboard in anticipation of the onslaught. As each nautical mile carried us closer to the epicenter of humanity, the MV Explorer prepared. The crew and ship braced themselves by wrapping the ship in plastic as protection and the faculty and staff attempted to prepare and brace our hearts for what we were about to embark on.Nothing can prepare you for India.
Nothing.
Professors and the two wonderful inter-port students alike attempted to give us a taste of India, to prepare us for what we were about to experience. Nothing can prepare you for India. India seeps into the cracks and crevices of ourselves that cannot be covered by plastic or guarded by shrink wrap. India awakens a part of you that had previously been dormant. India changes you.
Or, at least, India changed me.
Due to budgetary constraints, I was confined to Chennai, the port city in the southern part of India. Chennai is a working city- there are no tourist attractions- just Indians going about their everyday lives. Even the Lonely Planet guide book I consulted before arrival had this charming diddy to say about Chennai- "you would be hard pressed to find anything to faun over in Chennai". And yet- my love for India blossomed in Chennai, this unlovable working city in the south of India- a love that blossomed against all odds.
Stepping off the ship in India is even a shock- the mere act of taking your first few breaths on Indian soil is an experience. I was reminded of the line from Lord of the Rings "One does not simply walk into Mordor- it is folly. The very air you breathe is a poisonous gas". So it is in India. The country has industrialized so quickly that it is evident in every inhale that the environment is suffering painfully. Upon a closer inspection, India bares other scars of rapid industrialization; over-population, extreme poverty, rivers soiled with human waste, streets lined with large piles of trash everywhere. India is a country of vibrant colors, Bollywood and promise, but it is also a land of decay and waste.
On our first day in India a few friends and I took off for a shopping area call T-Naggar. The only way around Chennai for the traveler on a budget is by auto-rickshaw. Eight of us left the port and divided into two rickshaws. Now, the first thing you should know about India is that the most unlovable part of India is the auto-rickshaw drivers. Getting them to take you where you want to go is nearly impossible. They take you to gas stations, shops you have no intention of shopping in and you often end up at a location that is not the one you requested. Plus, haggling over the price of the ride is exhausting and can turn hostile. Not to mention the roads in India. Just like the rest of India- the streets are filled with people, animals, trash and human waste. In order to be a driver in India I think you need a lot of aggression and an approach to life that is a combination of reckless abandon and a maniacal death wish.
That being said, I never felt more alive than the moments I spent in the back of an auto-rickshaw, frightened for my life, unable to breath (between the polluted air the sheer number of us squished in the rickshaw), the driver, a man named BaBa, swerving around the packed road to get us close to a bus so that he could shout "Touch it! Touch it! Touch the bus!" until we complied and reached out to touch an equally packed public transportation bus. There is something about that kind of mayhem, that feeling that you could die at any moment so you might as well enjoy the ride, is unlike any I have ever felt.The next day I made a fatal mistake. After another long day of haggling with rickshaw drivers, bartering for prices and walking around in the hot Indian sun, I decided to indulge in one of the great loves of my life; Chinese food. I am not one for spicy food, something that is difficult to avoid in India and my love for Chinese food knows no bounds. At that particular moment in my life China felt like an age away and the ships asian inspired meals were... not too inspiring. As I ate my food happily, I had no idea that I would come to regret the choice of Chinese food more than I would regret any choice I made on the trip.
It hit me just after I had laid down to go to sleep. That intense discomfort that can only mean one thing- I am about to vomit like I have never vomited before. I practically fell off my top bunk and ran to the bathroom and settled in for what was about to be one of the worst 36 hours of my life. I'll spare you the details, dear readers, but know that I have never been that disgusting or disgusted in my life.
By the time I was healed enough to venture out into the city again, armed with a pepto and an intense fear of Indian cuisine, I had only one desire- to visit a temple.
Here, I will give you a short history of me and my religious beliefs. Be prepared to be offended (though I do not intend for this to be so).
All throughout my high school career I had been a devote Christian. I led the worship band for youth group, mentored other students, went to bible study and church camp every summer. My senior year, a friend of mine was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. By my graduation she had gone into remission and we all thought she was on the road to good health. I was slated to attend a Christian university, Palm Beach Atlantic, when the unthinkable happened. Before we knew it, she was gone. She was only 19 when she died. I self destructed- I spiraled into a depression that I was helpless to escape, and for two years I struggled with my faith as I tried to tread water. I left the church and haven't been back since.
It wasn't until I moved to North Carolina in an attempt to get my life back and attend Appalachian State that faith re-entered my life. by some off chance I signed up for a class on Genocide Studies that was immediately followed every Wednesday with a class on the history of Christianity. More than once that semester I called my mother in tears, wondering why the world was such an awful place to be. Despite the depressing semester, I found my major with those classes (Religious Studies with a minor in Peace Studies... so pre-poverty with a minor in depression) and met my wonderful academic advisor and his wife, two of the greatest influences in my life. I also found Hinduism.
I'm not claiming to a Hindu by any stretch of the imagination. I cling to the label 'agnostic', unable to abandon belief in something and unable to pin that belief to any one entity. Hinduism is the closest thing to what I believe that has a label and so, I was very excited to go to a Hindu temple.
The Ramma Krishna Mutt temple is like a small oasis in the world, tucked away behind a large gate a even larger trees. I spent the morning and afternoon there, meditating on faith, on my friend, my family, and on hope. There are only two places I have ever felt that in touch with myself, my faith, and (as corny as it sounds) the universe, and they are a Buddhist temple in Malaysia, and the MV Explorer. The Ramma Krishna Mutt temple was a reminder to me that in the (literal at that moment) shit-storm of my life, there is still peace, there is still hope and there is still serenity.India is a place of extreme contradiction, poverty and wealth, beauty and destruction. The very sad and the very happy are neighbors in India- but it remains, without a doubt, a magical place.
I know I'll be back to India soon, and this time I'll stay away from the Chinese food.
