A Journey made of People

Last month I had the opportunity to go on a long trip around North India. It was an amazing journey through incredible places, each one completely different from the other. Instead of writing a boring list of places and stories, I want to talk about some of the people I met during this trip. Some of them made me laugh, some of them made me angry, all of them made me think.

"The Train Guy"

We bought an overnight train ticket from Delhi to Pathankot even though the train was full. The train system in India is very. . . special; it doesn’t matter if there are spots available on the train or not, you can always buy your ticket and you will be placed on a waiting list. Apparently a “wait-listed ticket” gets you on the train no matter what, because so many people cancel their tickets all the time – or at least that’s what everybody told us…. When we got to the train station we found out there were no spots for us. We tried everything, but they wouldn’t let us get on the train.

Ten minutes before the train left—while we were already sadly accepting the fact that we would lose our money and miss our train—this short skinny guy dressed in a train uniform slowly walked towards us. He spoke no English at all and, in a very mafia-like style, told us something in Hindi. We know a little bit of Hindi, but all we could understand was, “something…. sleep …. something….. 3…something…. 10”. We decided that he meant that if we get on the train now, he will find us 3 beds to sleep in by 10 pm. Those ten minutes were pretty dramatic, we couldn’t decide if we wanted to trust this guy or not, and we got on and off the train at least three times. Right when the train started moving, we decided to take the chance, and we jumped on. We sat on the floor, with all of our bags right next to the bathroom. The already sad situation got even worse when this crazy man started doing unspeakable stuff in the bathroom, with a weird plastic bag, in which he put right next to us.
I was ready to spend the whole night on the floor by the train bathroom. Not able to sleep, we all got depressed and started playing games trying not to cry. But then, a miracle happened—or I should say three miracles. One by one we all found three separate beds on the train and we got to rest the whole night before getting to our station at 6 am. So the little “Mafioso” guy was right. Almost right… we were all in bed by 11, not 10.


"The modern Couple"

We arrived to Pathankot at 6 am. Needing to find a taxi to take us to Dharamsala, we were happy to find a couple of tourists from Israel that would share the expensive taxi with us. They were the only other foreigners on the train and we had been noticing each other since the night before. It was clear that they were going to Dharamsala—the only tourist destination off of that train route.

road to Dharamsala

We chatted for a little bit and we got on the three-hour taxi ride to Dharamsala. My travelmates were pretty tired, so I was the only one trying to make conversation with them, maybe also because of my great memory of my trip to Israel a few months ago. They were not bad people per se, just the typical western tourists in India who said things that really confused us. Like when they said that the people in the northeast are very nice because they are not “real Indians,” or when they asked us if it’s weird that we live with two Indian roommates, if we can handle them, or if they are “modern.”
Yes, they are “modern,” probably more “modern” than you. Even if they are “real Indians.” We never saw them again.


"The inspiring girl from Italy"

Most of my friends know that I have a complicated relationship with my own country. When I was younger, I even thought I hated it. How stupid of me. It took me a few years, but now I know how amazing Italy is. In fact, for many things it can probably be considered the perfect place. And I do miss it. Still though, I still try to avoid Italian tourists when I’m abroad.

The Tibetan government-in-exile is
headquartered in McLeodGanj.

In Dharamsala we were staying with some friends. They mentioned that there was an Italian girl living in their building. For some reason this time it was different, I was really curious to meet her to know what she was doing in this random place in the middle of nowhere. So I did. We talked for only thirty minutes, but that was enough to realize that she was different than other Italians. She lived in Southern Mexico with the Zapatistas for a while, then she came to India to study Hindi, Tibetan and other languages to work with Tibetan monks for the liberation of Tibet. This Italian girl reminded me that Italy is a beautiful, diverse country with all kinds of people. Not all of them watch reality shows, not all of them only talk about football (soccer), and not all of them are obsessed with fashion.



"The rich Punjabi man"

Have you ever heard of Couchsurfing? It’s only probably the most amazing thing that came out on the web in the past few years. Basically, it is a website that lists profiles of people that are willing to host travelers on their couches for free. It’s an amazing way to save money on accommodation and meet other people who are fond of traveling.

This is what I thought Couchsurfing was before we did it in Amritsar. Before leaving, we looked through many profiles and eventually found somebody that was offering four available rooms in a big farm with horses, camels, a restaurant, three swimming pools and a Punjabi Bhangra dance show every night! Of course we immediately thought it was too good to be true. It sounded more like a resort than a house, and we were pretty sure that we would discover some bad surprise. But, all of his references on the website were positive so we decided to give it a try. When we arrived in chaotic Amritsar, the mysterious guy who we still did not believe existed, sent a rickshaw to pick us up from the bus station (!) and a few minutes later we were on the road in the middle of nowhere wondering where the heck the driver was taking us.

one of the three swimming-pools

Thirty minutes later, outside of the city, we arrive to a beautiful farm, with everything that was promised on the website, including the (three) swimming pools. We spent four amazing days there and it really was all for free. The guy had a bunch of people working for him, so we actually didn’t meet him until the second day we were there.

Bhangra Dance show just for us

He was a nice Punjabi man, always wearing nice clothes and a red turban. We got to talk to him for a while and we found out that he lived a very interesting life all over the world, and now he owns this big place in the countryside with empty rooms that he just wants to give to travelers (only foreigners) that need an accommodation for free. He was definitely one of the most interesting people I met on this trip. A mystery I still think about.



“The guy at the Golden Temple”

If Mumbai is “level 5” in the “India-challenge-scale,” Amritsar is probably “level 10”. It’s chaotic, dusty, dirty, way overcrowded, and incredibly hot (at least when we were there). It’s definitely not the most relaxing place—actually it’s not relaxing at all. There is one thing though that makes it one of the most special places in the world: The Golden Temple. It’s the holiest site for Sikhism, a very interesting religion and a very important one for the region of Punjab. I do not consider myself religious, but lately I found myself in situations where seeing people’s intense connection to (some) god really touched me for some reason. After Jerusalem, this happened to me again at the Golden Temple. The architecture of the buildings, the colors of people’s outfits, the loud prayers from speakers placed all around the place, the perfect reflection of the lake that surrounds the temple—everything works together to make it one of the most magical and intense places I have ever been.

the Golden Temple

As I was staring at all of this, a young guy came up to me. He just sat next to me, and started talking to me. Now, since I got to India, I learned that foreigners get a lot of attention here. People almost never have bad intentions. They are just really excited to see people from other countries that look different and speak differently, and they love exchanging a few words or even taking a photo with you. (Sometimes they ask you, sometimes they just take it). Of course, because of some past experiences in Italy, there’s always a part of me that feels the need to be careful and watch my wallet every time some stranger approaches me, and this is what happened when that young guy sat next to me. It makes me laugh to think about it now, as that guy turned out to be one of the sweetest and nicest people I have ever met.

me and Vikas

He is 23 years old, from Amritsar, works at a cellphone-repair store, has 1 brother and 1 sister who just got married. He doesn’t speak English, but he really wants to learn it. He had the great idea to start talking to the thousands of foreign tourists (English people, as he calls them) that visit his hometown everyday, and now he is learning really fast. I talked to him for one hour—half in broken English, half in broken Hindi. Even if I studied Hindi for months, I never speak it in Mumbai because I always think I’m not good enough to have a real conversation with somebody. Yet talking to him gave me the courage to use all those grammar rules I learned from the books, and by the time we left, I felt like I had my first real conversation in Hindi! That was just one of the many reasons why meeting this guy made me feel so happy that day. I realized that I need to be more open to strangers since every one can teach you something new, whether a new language or about life.


"The fast food waiters, all’americana"

hotel in Katra

After Amritsar, the plan was to take an overnight bus, immediately followed by another ten-hour bus to enter the region of Kashmir and reach the very North of India—on the Himalayas. However, we ended up missing our stop in the middle of the night. When we finally got off the bus, we found ourselves in a random place in the middle of the mountains at 5 am with nobody on the street and, of course, it was raining. To make it even more dramatic, my friend was really sick, and we had to stay for him to get better. But, all the hotels were fully booked. All we could find was the creepiest and ugliest hotel I have ever seen. It was way overpriced, but we had no choice. After moving our stuff in, we immediately fell asleep hoping that all that was just a nightmare and we would wake up soon at our original destination of Srinagar.

A few hours later my friend was still too sick to get back on the road, so I decided to explore this random place while he was resting. It had stopped raining and the sun was shining on a beautiful town, with lots of people in colorful outfits, surrounded by gorgeous green mountains covered in forests. I spent the whole day walking around and, to be honest, it was actually a really nice place! The town was Katra, a very traditional place in Kashmir, where a lot of people go to visit the Vaishnu Devi shrine. The central street was filled with a lively market, lots of people, small shops, beautiful temples, horses, goats and cows wondering around. And in the middle of all this was an awkward, modern-looking, fast food restaurant that sold pasta, pizza, and all kinds of so-called “western food.” I found this pretty funny and I decided to try it out.

fast-food restaurant in Katra

The McDonald’s-style tables were all empty and the only people in the building were 4 waiters, all dressed in their cute green uniforms and hats—in real fast-food fashion. When I lived in California I rarely had fast food, but I was always so impressed (and a little freaked out) by how nice the waiters there were. All those fake smiles and those, “Hi! You look wonderful this morning. How are you? What can I do for you,” one-liners really made me feel good, even if I knew that they were just following the company policy. But here, even if the place looked the same, the waiter acted . . . a little different. They looked really mad at me for disturbing them, they rudely asked, “what do you want?” and they stared angrily at me for the whole time. When my food was ready, one of them just yelled, “HEY!” at me and went back to his chair, playing with his cell phone. As I was eating my sandwich alone in that air-conditioned fake restaurant, looking at all the colorful happy people outside, I kept thinking that there is a reason why this American fast-food culture is definitely not an Indian thing yet. Thank god.


"Our host family in Srinagar"

I did not know much about Kashmir before going there. I had only heard about it on the news every time there was some turmoil or political problem. Some people told me it was a dangerous place that tourists have been avoiding for years. All of this made me a little nervous when we entered the Kashmir Valley. Driving up and down the Himalayas, I was nervous of what to expect. I fell asleep for the last few hours of the ten hour taxi ride and when I woke up I found myself in one of the most magical places I have ever been. Srinagar, the main city in Kashmir, is very difficult to describe. The ancient pretty houses made me think of Florence, the massive castle on the hill made me think of Germany, the pointy roofs made me think of Amsterdam, the lotus flowers in the water made me think of South-East Asia, the “boat-traffic” on every canal made me think of Venice, the monumental mosques made me think of Istanbul, the predominantly Muslim culture made me think of the Middle East, and the colorful Hindu temples, the rickshaws and the bustling downtown reminded me of the rest of India. Add a gorgeous lake, green lush forests, snow-capped mountains all around and millions of beautiful people and you have Srinagar.

After the amazing “couchsurfing” experience in Amritsar, we decided to try it again. This time, it was even better! The family we stayed with was composed of a father, a mother, 2 sons and a daughter—the siblings all in their 20s.

Last home-made dinner with our host family

They were incredibly kind, to say the least. They were modest people, with some pretty hard times in their past, but they were extremely generous and ready to share all they had with us. It was an amazing experience to sit on the floor in their small but warm living room, listening to the father’s incredible life stories, joking and laughing with the boys, while the mother sat on the floor in the attached tiny kitchen, cooking amazing home-made food. Like the majority of people in Kashmir, they were Muslim, and it was very interesting for me to stay with them for a few days and see how it really does not matter what religion, cultural or language background you come from—you can always meet amazing people all over the world. Breaking down these barriers was a big deal for me and reminded me of so many people back home in Italy who would be too scared or ignorant to do the same.


"The 7-year-old Buddhist monk"

Muslim mosque and Tibetan flags

Ladakh is a region that sits elevated in the Himalayas on some of the highest points of India, both in terms of altitude and latitude. It is like nothing I have ever seen before. Amidst the highest ranges in the world, the geographically and historically important Indus river formed wide valleys that transformed the landscape to look more like the moon than any place on our planet.

sunrise on the Himalayas

It’s a very dry and stark terrain, strongly contrasting the snow-capped mountains and the intense blue sky. This is the surreal background to an incredible culture, where Buddhist Tibetans meet the Muslim traditions of Kashmir. Every summer these people mix with the masses of tourists from India and the West that decide to visit this magical place despite of the freezing weather and the physically strenuous ailments caused by high altitude. We also had to deal with this (especially the altitude-related problems), but we were rewarded with kind and gentle people and epic views of Buddhist monasteries that will always remain in my mind.

motorcycle tour of Ladakh: Likir Monastery

One day we rented a motorcycle to explore Ladakh. Our first stop was the morning prayer in the Buddhist monastery of Thikse. We set our alarm at 4:30 am (like almost every other day of our trip) and started our 1-day Ladakh motorcycle road trip. I cannot describe how miserable it was to wake up that early in the freezing cold and ride a motorcycle across the desert. I have rarely felt that cold in my life. But, I immediately forgot about that feeling when I saw the incredible view of the Himalayas at sunrise, with the strongest colors I have ever seen, and we drove through an enchanted valley scattered with Buddhist stupas and monasteries.

Thikse Monastery

The impressive view of the Thikse monastery left me breathless, (that and the 4,000-meters-high-mountain air that literally froze my nose). After taking some photos we climbed the hill only to discover a completely empty town where the only people were Buddhist monks getting ready to pray and five obnoxious French tourists whose main purpose was to ruin the whole atmosphere. At 6:45, we took off our shoes and entered the monastery, where some very nice, smiling, monks invited us to sit in a corner of a dark prayer hall. Something like thirty monks, of all ages, started the daily ceremony that involved praying, singing and eating breakfast. I really felt like we (the tourists) were disrupting the magical ambience by being there with our backpacks and cameras. But the monks seemed as if they did not care. At least most of them didn’t, except for one.

morning prayer

He was a seven-year-old boy that kept staring at us, with a facial expression that was somewhere between curious, confused and annoyed. We were there for more than one hour, and I think he was staring for a at least 40 minutes of it. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I know how he made me feel: so embarrassed to be there, so self-conscious, so rude. I felt like I was doing the worst thing in the world, bringing all my “western-ness”, all my things, all my superficiality to such a silent, peaceful, pristine environment. It didn’t help that one of those French women’s cellphone started ringing really loud in the middle of the ceremony and she could not turn it off.  I wanted to disappear. Being a good tourist is a difficult job. You want to see and experience everything, but that often involves ruining what you're seeing, just by being there (see Venice-Rome-Florence). All we can do is try to be as respectful as possible to the environment, the culture and the people we meet, and keep our cellphones on "silent".