Rajasthan – The Adventure Begins - February 9

Oh, where to start? We left the Ashram about 1 pm – after both of us had our sessions with Ravishankar. Kavita received a much stronger message than I did – and she, too, had a lot to think about. The cab showed up – a small white 4-door compact, and we were off. It was an 8-hour drive – only about 250 miles – but we were driving in India – where anything and everything goes. I think this was the first time in my life where I was the minority – and alone in that status. In the 4 days I was in Rajasthan, I never saw another Westerner. When people saw me looking out the window – because my eyes were glued to the scene passing by – they openly stared right back at me. Some people came up to the car to get a better look, especially when we were slowed down by traffic in the cities. It was an odd feeling. When I actually interacted with people they were charming – and interested - although they couldn’t figure out why I was here. My favorite response was from the camel driver. The cabbie pulled over so I could shoot a picture of him. He started yelling and I thought he was upset that I took his picture. “No,” said Kavita, laughing, “He was asking you if you wanted a ride!”

The cities - so unlike anything in the US. It is one small shop after another. I watched a man get dental work – right on the street, another get his hair cut. A man urinated against a wall – no one paid attention. Fruit and veggie pushcarts stand in rows – the red carrots glow in the sun, the oranges are big and plump. Tire stores have the surplus stacked higgledy-piggledy on the roof. Trash cans don’t exist - garbage is strewn everywhere. People casually step around piles of rubble that litter the street. And color explodes – in store signs, billboards, saris, turbans, truck art, the vikkrams (jitneys). When I met Arpi, Kavita’s husband, he told me that his first impression of America (he visited last year) was, “Where are all the people?” I laughed – it is so astute. When I drive down Lighthouse Avenue in Pacific Grove I see some people walking between shops, some talking by their cars, some sitting outside at cafes – multiply it by 500 and you have the number of people on a similar strip of town in India. People are driving, pushing carts, riding bicycles (I saw a bicyclist carrying 3 huge soft round bags- each at least 5 feet in diameter. The third was balanced on top of the first two – and a man was sitting on top of that!). Women (and some men) walk by balancing huge stacks of wood, cow dung patties, water jugs, or just bags of unknown stuff on their heads while cows meander through it all. It is absolute chaos – oh, America seems so sterile in comparison - not that I am complaining!

8 hours in a cab . . . I had to face the inevitable – the dreaded bathroom stop. We pulled over at a tea stand that was covered with Coca Cola signs (I took a photo - all the photos of Rajasthan will eventually be posted but not until I get into Haridwar later this week. I can’t transfer photos from the Ashram computer – takes too long). The cab driver drank with us – I toasted him for his driving. You could not pay me enough money to take on that task! And then, the bathroom. Cement floor – trough in the middle. One straddles and squats. Okay, so I can’t squat with my right knee but we will make this work. The big challenge, however, was the lack of light. When you close the door it was pitch black. Interesting. I noted where the trough was, closed the door, dropped my pants and then started laughing. I have NO idea where the stream was going to land – hopefully not on my shoes. When I finished, I pulled up my pants, stepped toward what I hoped was the door, opened it, did NOT look back, and walked out with my head held high. Washed my hands in an outside washbasin– no soap. No problem. I was grateful for it and knew I had my bottle of hand wash in the car. I could now do 4 more hours in the cab.

We arrived around 9 – the drive was over and a new adventure was about to begin.