India: First Impressions

We experienced a bit of culture shock as we were introduced to the many disparate energies surrounding us. These energies were quite startling; we marveled at the absolute throngs of people and vehicles and animals maneuvering through bustling city streets. They all moved in a tightly packed rhythm, inches apart. We found ourselves shaking our heads in disbelief. It felt like being in the middle of a perfectly functioning bee hive. The more civil attitudes of the Indian people proved a bit of a relief from the energies of anger and aggression that we often faced in Egypt. Horns beeped, scooters tooted, and animal bells pealed, all in a constant, practiced form of communication which kept the masses safely pulsing through the arteries of the enormous, smog-laden cities.

We soon found that authentic Indian food did not even resemble Indian fare in America. Mutton was the meat of choice, and the inherent spiciness of every dish proved to be quite challenging for our already churning digestive systems. We religiously chose cooked food and avoided local water, but our bodies still rebelled quite frequently at our choices. We were probably responding as much to the ancient energies around us as to the foodstuffs.

The air in the larger cities had a distinctive and disturbing metallic taste and smell that was extremely repelling. Three-wheeled, dented and ancient diesel taxis, known as “auto rickshaws”, spewed out a toxic cloud of white smoke, filling the streets, and one’s lungs, with fumes. It was hard to even take a breath. Dark, thick smog hung like a curtain around the cities, and in fact, its pallor pervaded all of the areas we visited except the northern, more elevated areas. Looking down and off into the distance from the high land at the foot of the Himalayas, an unbroken line of smog-laden air totally obscured the far vista.

The ever present caste of beggars throughout India definitely caused us difficulty. The greatest problem that we had occurred in the upper reaches of Dharamsala after we gave a desperate looking young Indian woman an extremely generous cash gift. She followed us for blocks, handing me the baby that she was carrying and crying for even more help, until we must have entered another woman’s territory. Then a second woman with a distressed looking baby hounded us, actually blocking our way.

We were later informed that often these young women are prostitutes by night, and that the babies they carry all day may not even be their own. Their desperation for money may have been to avoid the wrath of whomever they were forced to work for. Their gazes were empty and hopeless. It was extremely difficult to witness, and my heart went out to the little ones being dragged through the streets every day. I kept my heart open and acknowledged the pain that was so much a part of the everyday life of these women and babies, and did not judge them for intruding upon us so severely. They expressed no gratitude for what we gave them, as they surely had to hand the money over to someone else.

I usually sought to prevent myself from avoiding the beggars. Sheltering myself by avoiding them was frequently easy to do, either physically, by walking away from them, or by diverting my gaze from them. I chose instead to engage them when it felt right, and always to treat them as worthy people. We had been warned that children sometimes were purposely deformed to make them more effective beggars. We saw many kids and adults with missing limbs, or with limbs that were horribly twisted and mutilated. This was sickening and unthinkable to us, but avoiding the truth, and them, felt uncompassionate.

INDIA, DHARAMSALA PRAYER WHEEL