
India is a tepid cesspool of humanity where absolutely nothing makes any sense whatsoever. There are normal toilets, yet no toilet paper; cows roaming the streets, eating from dumpsters, yet millions of people go starving; it is not just nine hours ahead of EST back home but an intriguing nine and a half; a place with a fierce hatred for their neighbor Pakistan yet with a fun little choreographed border closing ceremony, complete with handshakes and all. Shit, cow, dog, and/or human, lines the sometimes paved, sometimes pebbled, all the time dirty," sidewalks." In a matter of hours, your nostrils are treated to a cocktail of smog, engine fumes, and curries. Beggars tug at your clothes. Random altars are encountered dedicated to a Ganesha (an elephant-person hybrid), a Hanuman (a monkey-person hybrid) or another of the thousand-plus Hindu gods, with puja (an offering typically of food) set before it. Sadhus (Hindu mystics...aka homeless guys) roam the streets in their brightly orange cloth. Children ask you for money, monkeys jump from electrical poles, and svelte dogs prowl the alleyways, scrounging for whatever scraps they can find, whatever the tens of thousands of homeless people didn't get to. Shopkeepers constantly harass you for their "good price" goods while suspiciously friendly english speaking "students" want to help you along. "Tourist information" kiosks seem to be nothing more than tourist scams, even the most official looking offices. Taxi drivers, auto rickshaws and bicycle rickshaws, the caste system of the transportation world, desperately want to take us somewhere (typically, straight to one of these upstanding "tourist information" offices they happen to know about!). Indians gawk at you as you walk down the road, some sneaking pictures, while the more audacious asking to take a picture with you, then greatly desiring to shake your hand afterwards, leading to the obvious application of yet more hand sanitizer.
Welcome to India, the world's largest democracy, the birthplace of the Buddha, the land of the Hindus, Jains, and Sikhs, the home of the Dalai Lama, and the second most populous country on the planet. In short, it is, for all practical purposes, a cluster f!@#... and we adore it immensely!
After 36 hours of sleeplessness, three plane rides including a layover in Sharjah, United Arab Emirates, we finally landed in New Delhi on Wednesday, October 20, at 5:00 a.m. and promptly made our way to the train station, hoping to evade the chaos that is Delhi before sunrise. Unfortunately, we underestimated how truly crazy this place really is! After making our way to the train station, red-eyed and semi-conscious from the overnight flight(s), we amateurly succumbed to the touts outside the train station who were trying to "help" us along, taking us to "official" agencies that were going to book our fare for us northwards to Amritsar.

We were on our own, without a map, without any sleep, and without a clue in the world as to where we were or how to get to where we were going. The sun was now up and soon the streets would be mobbed. We went through the run-around that apparently is the travel system of India and, after three hours of deliberations about our next steps, we finally settled on a flight to Amritsar and train tickets to and from our next two destinations for the next ten days before meeting up with Kaitlyn's parents on November 1st in Delhi. We then walked a few blocks around the area, soon realizing that we were hungry. "Here goes nothing," I thought to myself, bracing for my first Indian meal for the next month. We found a little hole in the wall place with four items on the menu (which in hindsight, probably wasn't the wisest of choices for our first Indian meal!) and buckled down for the adventure ahead. As it turns out, whatever it was, really wasn't that bad and, 24 hours later, really wasn't too bad on our stomachs either!
We headed back to the airport for our 7:00 p.m. flight, exhausted from the unanticipated jaunt into Delhi and subsequent extra hours of forced consciousness.
Amritsar
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This is the home of the Sikhs, "those guys with the turbans," and the centerpiece of the Punjab state of India. We decided to start our Indian escapade here, a place where we expected it to be a little more subdued, to ease into our host nation for the next month. What we got was a somewhat mixed bag. The craziness and plight surrounding us, rough to stomach even by our well-traveled standards, was, according to some other travelers we met, actually far more pleasant than other areas of India we will soon be looking forward to visiting! Now, in hindsight, having returned to Delhi, we must agree with that assessment! Amritsar, for whatever reason, seemed to lack a real tourist presence. Despite it being home to one of the most recognizable symbols of India, the Golden Temple, white people were rare to come across.
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In between taking part in several photo shoots (though far less than our new paler British friend Laura), and enjoying three meals at what we perceived to be the safest option in town, Kaitlyn and I spent most of our two days in Amritsar inside the beautiful Golden Temple complex, a wondrously peaceful refuge from the world around it.
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Built in the center of an artificial lake, the Golden Temple is at the heart of the Sikh faith. Before entering, our shoes and socks had to be removed and we were each given a head covering to wear while inside the complex. Sikh guardsmen, despite their imposing presence with large turbans, swords, and scowls, actually turned out to be some of the friendliest people we have met, eager to help answer any questions we had and proud to welcome us into their beautiful temple. Having been to several religious holy sites on our trip, I must say that the Golden Temple was by far the most welcoming to outsiders and even to locals, a testament to the Sikh faith.
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The doors to the complex remain open 24 hours a day, as homeless people lined the far walkways, given a refuge for the evening. Free food and drink are also provided to any and all visitors to the complex as well as community lodging to both tourists and pilgrims alike. The temple itself was amazing, a sight we will always remember and a place I had always wanted to see. But perhaps more than anything, we will take with us just how amazingly welcoming the Sikhs were, how friendly and calm and genuine their believers were. We will remember an old man, clutching onto a cheaply framed photo of the Golden Temple, admiring it from every angle. This was his new prized possession, a souvenir he will take back with him to whatever village he was from, as a reminder of his visit to Amritsar, the holiest of holies, and quite possibly, the highlight of his simple and yet long life.
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Next, we took a crammed and bumpy ride in the back of a jeep 45 minutes to the border with Pakistan to watch the border closing ceremony, what has become a major tourist draw. I remember how Kaitlyn freaked out having gone through the border of Israel before, justifiably of course, since we hear of so many problems and acts of terrorism in that country. Therefore, I decided to stay mum on how this was possibly an even riskier location for us to
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be, since the hatred between India and Pakistan is perhaps more intense than any two nations on the planet, not to mention the whole nuclear weapons capabilities they both have. Neglecting to mention any of this to Kaitlyn, we geared up for whatever was going to occur. Our car dropped us off one kilometer before the border where we had to walk with hundreds of Indians to the actual border site. We then had to pass through two Indian security checkpoints before we were fully upon the border. Much to our delight, we were told we were VIPs for the event since we were foreign tourists and were given a front row seat, as close to the actual border as possible. The event itself was unlike anything we had ever experienced before. Take a pep rally, complete with loud speakers blaring your school's fight song and a guy on a microphone trying to get everyone revved up, mix it with a closed off street with two iron-wrought gates, and throw in a bunch of guys with guns running around, goose stepping, taking turns yelling into a microphone while thousands of people cheer on in the stands surrounding the action while the same exact thing is taking place a few meters on the other side of one of the gates, only with far less people in the stands and quite a few more men wearing onesies. It was quite the show, a testament to the nationalism of both countries infused with a bizarrely choreographed bravado. If nothing else, it was definitely worth the trip out there to be able to peer into the other side and get a glimpse into Pakistan. The sad reality is that the show will likely soon be coming to an end as the tensions between the two nations begin to heat up and the ground that we walked upon will once again be surely off limits.
Mcleod Ganj
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Next, we headed to the Indian state of Himichal Pradesh, adjacent to the Himalayas, and the home of the exiled Tibetan government and community, including the Dalai Lama. After taking the local Indian bus, complete with break down, flooded roads, and death defying twists and turns up cliffs, we arrived in one piece around midnight, ready to see a completely different side of India, notably and for the first time, the pleasure of clean air! We awoke the next morning and explored the tiny mountain hamlet around us, crossing paths with the countless saffron-clad Buddhist monks milling about. Every time I saw one wearing round glasses, my heart dropped with the anticipation that it might have just been the Dalai Lama
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himself, though, of course, it never was. It was our first peak at the Himalayas and Kaitlyn's first delve into the Buddhist world, both beautiful things! We trekked up a hill and saw an amazing waterfall, did some shopping, and explored the temple and Tibetan museum, learning about the plight of the people. It was definitely all a relaxing few days, a breath of fresh air, literally, from the fraction of India we had already come across in our brief stint in the country.

We caught an overnight bus back to Delhi, a really horrific overnight bus (we thought overnight buses were bad in Turkey!), and have now arrived in Rishikesh, the yoga capital of the world, for a few days before meeting with Kaitlyn's parents in one week, a reunion we both are extremely excited about! Neither of us have gotten sick (yet) and are in a constant state of sensory overload. New Delhi lacks one redeemable quality and is definitely not for the faint of heart. It will definitely be a treat to explore the rest of India with the Bagnatos...and in hotel rooms complete with toilet paper!