We are traveling in a vast and varied cultural and physical landscape. Planning this trip was frustrating because there were too many places we wanted to visit in too little time, so we decided that we would divide it into two weeks in the South and two in the North with specific locations to be determined. We arranged a flight from Goa to Delhi at the midpoint and then, knowing we would end our trip in Delhi, hopped on a train headed towards the legendary Rishikesh; a small town straddling the Ganges River as it flows out of the mountains. It became internationally recognized when The Beatles dropped in to spend some time with The Maharishi and wrote The White Album. Since then it has drawn spiritual seekers and Yoga devotees to its many ashrams and has become a backpacker haven. The setting is supremely beautiful, with the river coursing through the green foothills of the Himalayas, but we arrived and the rain came down heavily for two days, limiting our exploration. We are here during the monsoon season and we expected to get wet, but up to this point had been very lucky weather-wise, with a particularly dry and occasionally sunny experience. This was our seasonal reminder and the location provided an interesting perspective on the rains: the river rose enormously and flooded many areas around its banks. Houses and temples were engulfed in the ripping current and we watched sadly as cows and goats floated by. I had never seen flooding like this and probably would have been worried had the locals shown any concern, but it is obviously a typical situation and life continues even as property is lost and roads become rivers.
As the rain finally subsided after about 36 hours, we were able to wander around the town and appreciate some of its culture. It is a spiritual Mecca for yogis and promotes some new-age healing and philosophy that we are disconnected from–people inquiring about 40 day intense chakra realignment are aliens to me–but it was fascinating to enter this world as a passing traveler. India often seems strange and foreign to my sensibilities, but Rishikesh seems both stranger and more familiar: it caters to its clientele, which means Western food dominates the menus but alcohol is forbidden. It is spiritual, yet less religious than other parts of the country. It has a tourist feel, but many visitors stay much longer than other places. Basically, it is unlike anywhere else I’ve ever been and is a world unto itself. It is not exactly my scene, but I think it is a mind-blowing sociological demonstration of a self-breeding culture; people come here seeking something and there will always be someone to satisfy that craving, be it plastic jugs to fill with holy river water, intense spiritual cleansing, sitar lessons or a plate of pasta.
India is constantly evolving and one of the best places to get out what you put in. It is for you and from you, both import and export. I see now that I am wrong to think of my journey as a selfish and voyeuristic experience but can accept that it is a cultural exchange–not simply goods and services bought and sold, but dreams and desires revealed and shared.