Taking the bus in India is nothing I would recommend to anyone afraid of death, dirt, poverty, speed, mad traffic, no rules, cockroaches, mosquitos, not being able to go to the bathroom for four hours, stinky holes in the ground where you finally get to do your necessities when it's poring rain and you don't know if the bus will leave you there, dropping your scarf on the floor realizing it's not a floor but a flood of mud, or getting everything you own completely covered in an odor I can't even explain here.
I'm afraid of all this, and you can imagine how relieved I was when we finally reached Dharamsala this morning.
Apart from all the stuff above, I met some wonderful people in all this mud.
The cabdriver who took me to the bus was a sik, named Mr Singh. He knew I didn't have any extra cash to tip him (because we couldn't find a working ATM machine). Despite this, he carried my bags through herds of buses and people and waited with me and all my luggage for half an hour at the bus station - muddy, stinky, cabs, homeless, hot, chaos. They had a rule saying they were not selling the bus tickets until 15 minutes before the bus was leaving - DESPITE that they had the three ticket guys there doing nothing, rolling their thumbs, while 20 people where waiting in front of them. Bureucracy in it's most stupid form! When we finally got the ticket Mr Singh hustled me onto the bus with the bags and all. I took his number for next time, and anyone going to New Delhi - Mr Singh is your driver.
When I settled down in the bus I met another saint-like-person. An Irish 20-something guy who just had been volunteering as an English teacher in the slum for three months. He told me the most heartbreaking story, starting off with three kids in in the class, ending the summer with more than 40 kids who'd learnt English and the possibility to start in a public school. He was really excited talking about the kids, and I started to wonder what I'm doing in the film business.
And now I'm here. In a guest house in the Himalaya above the monastery of Dalai Lama. I'm chocked, tired, weird in my belly and head, wondering what to do about this world. Just like all the other western tourists soul searching in India. It's not even the first time I'm in India, and surely not the first time I'm having this experience, I just sort of forgot what it felt like to really, really be alive...
No! No hanky panky. It's the busdriver doing his morning toilet + talking on the phone while serpentine driving.
Friday, September 11
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7 comments:
Oh what a trip! I told You I think You are brave! Be very careful with the food now!!! Only cooked foods. Take care. We look forward seeing You very soon in Sweden.
Yes that's India! It's so different from our part of the world!
You're so brave Åsa travelling all alone around the world!
Marie
Hit the nerve, as always: 'to really, really be alive' - realizing that is the constant strive, wether we're "rich" or "poor" or just getting by.
Åsa, I really admire your strength and courage! Thank you for sharing this on your beautiful bolg! / V
WOW! What a journey, a myriad of emotions you are going through, like everyone here is saying Asa- you are one brave lady- it takes a lot to travel here, and places like it, I know I wouldnt be able to do it alone- so I salute you!
Loads of big hugs!
Dawn
x
Thank you. you're warming my heart. You can all travel alone - if I can you can. The wonderful thing with this though, is that I'm able to share it with you thanks to this blog.
When I met the guy who worked in the slum I realized what one person can do. He raised more than 12.000 € alone for schools in India before he left Ireland. And he probably changed quite a few kids life in less than three months.
We have to remember that each one of us matters - it doesn't matter it's a cliché - because we can change everything in a split second since it's all in our mind!
You are so right!! We can all do anything and be anything!
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