The Initiation
Our first ten days of travel, in some ways, felt more like an initiation… an introduction to our new lifestyle as we exist on the other side of the world for the next three months. This “initiation process” included frustrations, excitements, language barriers, and of course The Eagles, because it truly isn’t Southeast Asia without someone singing “Hotel California”. These subtle moments served as some kind of reminder that we were finally here.
Arriving to Bangkok, our bodies were worn from seventeen hours in the economy cabin of Singapore Air. Jet lag hits a bit harder than it used to, but we took those first three days to enjoy the city as best we could. We stayed relatively busy learning how to manage the SkyTrain, which is the most popular mode of transportation that can get you relatively anywhere in the city. Athough it was quite confusing and frustrating at times, it typically led us where we wanted to go. We drank passionfruit smoothies on the side of the road for less than a dollar and ate as much spicy Thai food as our bellies could handle. We explored the wandering streets and stumbled upon floating markets where the locals would sell their goods by boat on the Chao Praya River. At night, the city came even more alive with ladyboys, Thai sex workers, loud bars with live music. It was quite the spectacle to see. I had forgotten how a piece of the city culture in Thailand includes old white men who come to rent, hire, or marry these young Thai women. Those first three days went by fast and we had a wonderful time, but I was ready to get out of the big city and finally get to the place that I’ve always considered “my first love”.
With all the anticipation that led up to my return to India, I expected our arrival to feel more monumental, but instead it actually felt…familiar. Like it was only yesterday that my 24 year old self came here alone and terrified of what the outcome of my decision to travel alone would be. Little did I know that those five months would be some of the most transformative months of my life, leading to where we are now. Three years later I returned to India with one of my closest friends, Hannah, and months later met with my now husband, who embarked on his first trip overseas to visit me. Through that trip, I got to see India through the lense of those I traveled with and my perspective of India shifted, in neither a good or bad way, it was just different. Now I’ve returned a third time around, seeing how the country itself has evolved, but also recognizing that the way I perceive the world is based on the lense I choose to view it through. Like India, I too have changed.
Our first stop was Pondicherry, a small beach town colonized by the French. It felt like an anti-climatic first stop, as we were eager for dosas, spices, smells, chants, and the rawness of Indian culture but instead were offered mediocre French cuisines and a sleepy town that may or may not have lost its luster because of the pandemic…? However, the second day there we got to see the town come alive, realizing that our Monday arrival provided the quietest day of the week. As restaurants and store fronts opened, we ate authentic South Indian cuisine, walked endless miles on the fractured pavement…all while dodging the loud horns, chaotic driving, and a plethora of street dogs roaming the neighborhoods. In looking for an ATM, we found ourselves wandering lively streets with neon lights and shops offering very westernized clothes for men yet still the traditional dress for women. This display was something I had never seen in India before. When we cut into the alley ways, however, we saw the India that I was more familiar with - men and women sitting in the streets selling coconuts, flowers, grains, and sandalwood.
One of the many lessons that India has to offer is that one must surrender to the flow and you must let go of any preconceived notions of the way things will go. With a couple failed attempts at getting us to the places we intended on visiting, we ended up with two tickets on a sleeper bus to Ooty, a mountain town in the Western Ghats of Tamil Nadu. We packed our bags and left at 10 o’clock at night. Finding the bus station was an adventure in itself, leaving us feeling uncertain if we were even heading to the correct place. Justin and I crawled into our upper bunk, above the driver seat, and situated ourselves and our bags into the small nook where we would attempt to rest for the next ten hours. Considering we were directly behind the sound of the horn (and Indians love using their horns), we actually got a decent night’s sleep. We woke around 6:30 the next morning and as I wiped the condensation off the window, a lush, mountainous jungle was out the other side. On our arrival to Ooty, we were greeted with friendly, but eager taxi drivers wanting to take us to our next destination. After stopping for a quick cup of chai and a masala dosa, we walked up and down the hilly streets of Ooty trying to get Justin a SIM card for his phone and then bargain with the right taxi driver to take us to Masinagudi.
It took about forty hairpin turns through the mountains, passing waterfalls and wildlife along the way, we arrived to our new home within the Mudumalai Tiger Reserve in Masinagudi. It was a gorgeous six room mountain chalet, each room having it’s own private balcony with incredible views of the land around us…all for $26 a night. It was the perfect place of refuge for a sense of calm. We lived among the tigers, leopards, and wild creatures of the jungle but in our short time there were only greeted by monkeys and plenty of stray dogs, cattle, and sheep. We took our time there to slow down, drink tea, listen to the array of jungle sounds, and take short strolls to the village where we were greeted with curiosity and welcoming.
After our few days of relaxation, we were ready to move on to our next destination and our three hour drive took us through two more Wildlife Reserves, where we were thrilled to finally see some elephants. There is nothing quite like seeing those gentle giants roaming in their natural habitat. It was a perfect send off to our time in that part of the country and about forty five minutes later, through some small towns, we end up in Mysrore, the bithplace of Ashtanga Yoga…
