Overwhelm me, please

"This is a commercial interruption. We will resume our regular programming shortly."

I had been hinting to my husband for many years now that I would like to get to India one day. After seeing the slides that he took of his train journey here 20 years ago, I have been fascinated with the color, the architecture and the sheer exotic nature of the culture. India has not let me down. In fact, I don't think one can prepare themselves for the totality of the sensual and emotional thrill ride that is part of visiting the subcontinent.

I dedicate this entry to my husband. Thanks to him for the hours he spent researching and setting up this entire trip. The accomodations were excellent, the weather moderate and the movie was great! We would joke about "India T.V." because it always felt like you were floating through a movie set in a surreal dream. Every corner had an interesting tidbit to mull over if you worked hard at looking and listening to everything your brain could process every minute of the day on the street. I always thought that Tucker happened to get lucky and come upon an eccentric sadhu every so often, which produces National Geographic quality photo ops for the friends at home. What I found is that this is the norm for India. Every street of every day of every hour was chock full of PBS special dramas for your own private viewing. It was also exhausting, but addictive. The great hotels were necessary to give oneself some recovery time from the sensory overload that is India. The guides were critical at the beginning, but they became annoying and tedious later on in the journey. As time went on, it became clear that I was developing a love/hate relationship with India. She is a Siren and a Harpy. And my husband was magnanimous to share Her with me on his 60th birthday.

These are my impressions of Delhi, as I wrote them in my journal after our first day in India. They will apply to every city:

"Delhi is a dichotomy of sensations that defies explanation and leaves you wondering how the damned thing continues to run and pulse on continuously. Crowded, dirty, smoggy. Fast-paced at one moment, slow and tedious the next. Exciting and colorful. Squalid beauty. Intimidating aliveness. Compelling, yet repulsive. Devout and unethical. Friendly and challenging. Noisy. Magnificent ancient architecture neglected to the point of tawdriness. Life. Rebirth. Deadness and decay."

If you are thinking that this could describe alot of other places, you are wrong. India is an in-your-face, this is real life survival, welcome to the good, bad and ugly every-minute-right-out-on-the-street experience. I loved it. It also made me sad. And I did have a day when I cried for India. India did not have that brand-new-starting-over-in-our-own-special-place history that Americans love to be so proud of. Try adjusting to a legacy of thousands of years of conquering moguls treating you like peons and raping the land of all of its wealth and promise for their own personal pleasure and power. This culture is still trying to recover from ages of medieval management. I applaud their smiles and their pride in the forts and palaces that are part of their history. I am not surprised by the many levels of intolerance the population has for differing castes and religions. The Beatles only showed us the hari krishna version. One simply cannot visit another culture and impose your own values upon it. We saw quite a few "ugly American" types. India isn't white bread, folks. But if you want to be exhilarated, surprised, captivated, enticed and intriqued.....visit India.

And the FOOD. (I promise you that I do not weigh in at 250 lbs., but you have to appreciate a good culinary experience.) Birthday Boy's dinner was at one of the hotel restaurants. Excellent meal. Naan and chutneys and mint yogurt for appetizers. I ordered the tandoori chicken and Tucker had a curried lamb in brown gravy. There were some entertainers on a small stage. One played the bongos, another the sitar and the last played a piano-like squeezebox item. Nice atmosphere. Deep fried cottage cheese with a sweet syrup for dessert and Indian "ice-cream", which only ressembles Ben and Jerry's because it is cold. The sauces were lighter than we have had at home. But then, American Chinese food doesn't belong in the same family as what we had in Taipei and HongKong. We were careful to avoid any food on the street. But we should have tried the deep-fried samosas prepared all over India. It might have given us some "after shocks", but then India is a love/hate relationship.