my first trip to India

New Delhi Travel Blog

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Dec ’05 - Jan ‘06

From the moment I stepped into the country, every sense was overloaded.     Everything was foreign… new sights, new smells, new sounds, new feelings, new tastes.  Of course, it was to be expected and yet it was nothing like we expected.      Not worse, not better, just different.  I’ve realized that India cannot be compared to a country like America.  It just isn’t fair.  The vibrancy and richness of the culture and people fall into a completely different category altogether.  The people are beautiful and their hearts are big.  I really can’t put into words what it was like.  However, it was without a doubt, a life-changing experience.  Besides experiencing some unconventional meals (tried any goat lately?) and customs, my heart grew for the people.  

            I will never forget the sights of the dirty, trash ridden streets, the lame man with leprosy, the professional beggers who drugged and stripped their children naked, the bright colors on the buildings, clothes and cars, the poverty-stricken slums, the numerous starving cows both on the side and walking down the middle of the road, the numerous idols and the Taj Mahal at sunset.         I will never forget the smelll of sewage on the streets, curry and spice saturated clothes, constant pollution that made it hard to breath and indescribable smells as strong as the bright colors.  I will never forget the feeling of riding the metro through town, being squished into an auto, the bumpy rickshaw ride, the train ride through the country side, peeing into a whole in the ground, holding a hungry child, always rubbing against or bumping into someone and walking through temples 3 times as old as America.  I will never forget the taste of Indian food for the first time, mutton (goat), the water (don’t drink it!) and tea masala. I will never forget the sounds of cars constantly honking, dogs barking, children crying from starvation, children laughing at the way we looked and talked, the Muslims call to prayer at 5am, the Christian family in the slums who didn’t ask for money, but for God’s peace in their home, the music and the Indian believers who prayed and worshipped in their native tongue, Hindi. 

I will never forget my first trip to India. 

pbobenhausen says:
You are a great writer. I enjoyed reading your blog. You have a talent for putting words on paper.
Posted on: Oct 15, 2007
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