05/25/19
On our second day in India, we travelled to Rishikesh in three vans. We weaved in and out of oncoming cars, people, cows and motorcycles. The journey was tough, as it took over nine hours to get to the city due to the traffic. The heat was also a challenge for our Menlo Abroad group, however each group solved in it in its own way. They shortened the trip either by lengthy conversations, loud music, or just staring out of the window. One group passed the time by aggressively directing Angela to swipe down, left and sometimes right in order to achieve the coveted goal of creating the 2048 tile in the online game.
The long journey behind us, we enjoyed a late lunch ordering the 15th naan for the group and indulging in the various dishes of the region, paneer (cooked cottage cheese), being my personal favorite. We met the approaching evening by bartering for tuc-tucs to take us to the center of the town where we began our urban trek. The city was overwhelming. Cars rushed towards us, children ran across the street in the midst of unrelenting honks. The small road was a shared space for vehicles, people and animals alike. Motorcycles weaved their way though the streets and cars sped towards each other with no regard for lanes, filling the air with shrieks and squeals of honks. The side of the road was not less busy. Shopkeepers invited us in to try their garments, a million bracelets shone out of other store windows. Incense burned though the air and this potent smell intertwined with that of the unfamiliar street food. Something was always sizzling, spitting, or sparking. However the city was most alive with the people. The color of their dress, their shouts, their beckoning, their laugher.
We walked though the crowds, crossed the Ram Jula bridge and headed further into the city. Here the colors, the smells, and the noise was even more intense and the bustle built until the street opened up to a square facing the river. The sun was drifting down towards the water, bathing the
square in a gentle rose-orange light. We had come just at the right time. The Aarti Puja - a fire devotion ritual to Shiva - had just began. Song, light drumming and strong incense filled the air, as the whole city celebrated the beauty of the river.
On my way, back I looked out at the river, where a few families had set burning lotus lanterns afloat in the water, and I wondered at the complexity of the city. It was diverse, bright and alive. On that evening I think we all fell in love with India just a little more.
On our second day in India, we travelled to Rishikesh in three vans. We weaved in and out of oncoming cars, people, cows and motorcycles. The journey was tough, as it took over nine hours to get to the city due to the traffic. The heat was also a challenge for our Menlo Abroad group, however each group solved in it in its own way. They shortened the trip either by lengthy conversations, loud music, or just staring out of the window. One group passed the time by aggressively directing Angela to swipe down, left and sometimes right in order to achieve the coveted goal of creating the 2048 tile in the online game.
The long journey behind us, we enjoyed a late lunch ordering the 15th naan for the group and indulging in the various dishes of the region, paneer (cooked cottage cheese), being my personal favorite. We met the approaching evening by bartering for tuc-tucs to take us to the center of the town where we began our urban trek. The city was overwhelming. Cars rushed towards us, children ran across the street in the midst of unrelenting honks. The small road was a shared space for vehicles, people and animals alike. Motorcycles weaved their way though the streets and cars sped towards each other with no regard for lanes, filling the air with shrieks and squeals of honks. The side of the road was not less busy. Shopkeepers invited us in to try their garments, a million bracelets shone out of other store windows. Incense burned though the air and this potent smell intertwined with that of the unfamiliar street food. Something was always sizzling, spitting, or sparking. However the city was most alive with the people. The color of their dress, their shouts, their beckoning, their laugher.
We walked though the crowds, crossed the Ram Jula bridge and headed further into the city. Here the colors, the smells, and the noise was even more intense and the bustle built until the street opened up to a square facing the river. The sun was drifting down towards the water, bathing the
square in a gentle rose-orange light. We had come just at the right time. The Aarti Puja - a fire devotion ritual to Shiva - had just began. Song, light drumming and strong incense filled the air, as the whole city celebrated the beauty of the river.
On my way, back I looked out at the river, where a few families had set burning lotus lanterns afloat in the water, and I wondered at the complexity of the city. It was diverse, bright and alive. On that evening I think we all fell in love with India just a little more.
