Visiting India, seeing the world

Out of India

SEATTLE — One of the benefits of bringing our newspaper to you online is the feedback that readers offer.

The "comments" section on this site is filled with good advice from veteran travelers, people who have lived in India and people living there now.

"People who haven't been to India, truly haven't seen the world," writes Natasha Jaksich, of Renton.

As a first-time visitor to India, I agree.

Where else in the world can you wake up to the sounds of the Muslim call to prayer, chanting from a Hindu temple, church bells and birds singing — all at the same time?

Where else will you find women sitting on their porches sorting rice, shopping in the markets or walking to the public tap to fill metal containers with water while dressed in gorgeous saris in the brightest blues, greens, yellows and oranges you can imagine?

Where else could you find yourself driving in a three-wheeled open-air taxi in four lanes of traffic clogged with cars, cows, camels, elephants, motorcycles and rickshaws; riding a camel into the desert; walking barefoot on the marble floors of the Taj Mahal; floating along tropical lagoons in a houseboat and hiking in the mountains, all in the same three-week trip?

Yet, as fascinated as I was by India, when the time came to board my flight in Mumbai for the 24-hour journey home, I was ready to leave.

It can be hard

India is hard travel — hard on the body, hard on the psyche. The power goes off. The hot water isn't hot, or sometimes there's no water. The traffic noise and exhaust fumes give you a headache.

You can visit the tourist spots, stay in nice hotels or guesthouses, and if you're on a tour, pretty much avoid most of the hassles. Travel independently, though, and sooner or later, you're back outside dealing with the realities of being in the real India — sweating in the 95-plus heat, stuck in traffic with cows and cars, or crowding around an airline-ticket desk trying to get your money back on a canceled flight while a clerk writes out receipts by hand, making copies with carbon paper.

India is full of myths when it comes to travel. Guidebook authors tend to romanticize its beauty. Nonfiction authors go for the shock value, describing the worst of what you're likely to encounter in one of the world's poorest countries.

The truth is that most travelers probably discover an India that's neither overwhelming beautiful nor horrifically sad.

I expected to be constantly fending off beggars, but found that I was more bothered by aggressive shopkeepers and touts selling their "guide" services than by the few people who rapped on the car window or tugged at my arm asking for money.

I ate well and didn't get sick.

I didn't have to pay $250 a night or stay in five-star hotels to find comfortable rooms that met Western standards for cleanliness. The family-owned hotels and home stays I booked were immaculate, and my $73 a night hotel in Mumbai was as good as or better than anything I've found anywhere.

Many times, India tested my patience, but what travel experiences worth having don't? There were days when I was hot, tired, frustrated and ready to leave. Then I got back to Seattle and said "so what?"

I wouldn't have traded the amazing evening I spent at a family-home stay my last night in Kerala, even though at the time, I was sweating buckets and longing for air conditioning.

Nor would I have missed the experience of traveling 20 hours on an overnight train from Delhi to the Pakistan border, despite waking up freezing at midnight and asking myself why I was doing this.

And Delhi. I'll never forget the sights and sounds and smells of this exotic capital, even though being there meant confronting the faces of homeless children who make their beds on the train-station floors.

"Take a deep breath," I said to myself almost daily. "Get used to it. This is India."

Before I left, I asked myself if I'd come home wondering what took me so long to get to India, or if I'd feel as through I'd never want to go back.

Do I wonder now what took me so long ?

Yes, and if you've been thinking about going, don't hesitate.

Would I go back?

Absolutely.

Carol Pucci: cpucci@seattletimes.com