More insufficient words
March 18th, 2008 at 1:45 am (india, travel)
So India isn’t all that bad, though for a couple of weeks it sort of felt like it was, in fact, all bad. Here are some random observations:
Hinduism is perhaps the most intense and passionate religion I’ve ever encountered, at least its manifestation in northern India. I think I mentioned this in my previous post. And in its passion is hidden (or maybe not hidden, maybe blatantly out in the open) the sexual repression that is so deeply held in this culture. I have never seen so many sexually frustrated men in one place: the way they dance with one another, the timbre of the music, the way they look at western women (and good lord, some of the bullshit they say to us), and the way the young men talk about girls. And ironically, all of this separation of the sexes is supposed to reflect respect for women? I saw little of this. Yes, yes, I have a distinctly American feminist perspective. Too bad.
Being a female tourist in India can be a lonely experience. The men wouldn’t talk to me because I was with Trix (though, if I wasn’t with him, I can’t say that the conversation was all that welcome - Indian men, please stop staring at my boobs and treating me like a sex kitten), and the women wouldn’t talk to me because they don’t talk to anyone except each other, apparently. This combines to create this odd visible/invisible position: I was stared at relentlessly while in public, but no one would speak to me, except the odd person here or there. Totally bizarre.
The food was for the most part great! This was an excellent change from s.e. Asia, where the food is typically (and surprisingly) so so.
Spirituality and religion are no trifling matter in India. Unlike s.e. Asia where Buddhism is integral, but also somewhat removed or mundane (which to clarify from a way earlier post about Laos, I generally expected), religion in India is essential and rich and unmistakeable. You cannot walk 10 feet without walking into a shrine, or a holy man, or a kid selling offerings. It is simply the fiber with which India is woven.
Eh, all of these words are mundane and insufficient. I’m still reeling a bit from the experience to be able to capture them - or really, to feel like capturing them. Maybe this is all best for in person stories, no?