I took off on my first solo travel in India this weekend, heading by myself to Bhuj to visit a friend who is working at an NGO there. I took a bus (air conditioned this time, but to be honest, I kind of preferred the last bus I took that lacked it), that headed due West from Ahmedabad. The stressful thing about bus travel is that there are no signs to tell you where you are, and, in one of the most surprising things to date in India, the street scenes of cows, food carts, and people milling about on dusty roads have become normal for me. I, therefore, have no idea where in India -- from Delhi to Calcutta-- I am when I see that scene out of a window. Add to that not being able to speak either Hindi or Gujarati, and that makes finding the correct stop a huge challenge (not to mention I have never seen Bhuj, don't know where on the line of stops it is, or, to be honest, exactly what the correct pronunciation of it is)!
This aspect of solo travel opens ones up to the people surrounding, relying upon them for information, for help, or just for a friendly face. I ended up sitting next to an 18 year old boy who became quite enamored with the fact that I was his "first American friend" (a fact he reminded me more than once on the trip). He proudly showed me his report cards (whcih, for some reason, he was carrying with him in a portfolio), making sure to note the HIGH HONORS and MERIT designations. Talking with him was a refreshing reminder of how what we take for granted in the United States can have such little bearing on people elsewhere in the world, I was showing him pictures of my life in California and in Washington DC on my iPhone, showing him my friends, my schools, and other parts of my life. I showed him pictures of Barack Obama.s inauguration -- photos that so far in India have been met with comments of "Barack Obama...very good", or "Barack Obama -- strong man." However, when I showed my friend the pictures, he responded "Who is that?" It was a jolting reminder of how different the worlds we live in can be, even on the same planet.
In befriending him, I was hoping to rely upon him as a personal stop indicator, but unfortunately he got off well before reaching Bhuj. Fortunately, I spotted another friendly face who seemed anxious to speak with the White guy on the bus. I motioned to him to come over, and he did. We chatted for a bit, and I understood around fifteen percent of the words he said through his heavy accent, nodding constantly, and laughing as if it were a broadcast delay as I followed his lead when he chuckled. He spent a good five minutes explaining to me how an area near Pakistan is shaped like a tea cup because there are mountains surrounding it (or, perhaps something totally different; I don't really know). Despite our communications barrier, I'm happy to say I got the digits of a forty year old Indian man (a new first for me) as he was incredibly kind to say that if I had any problems getting to, or while in Bhuj, to give him a call. He told the driver the stop at which I wanted to exit, and that helped insure I didn't somehow end up in Pakistan because I didn't get off the bus in time!
Traveling solo is humbling and certainly leaves you vulnerable to the rest of the world. But, this vulnerability, ironically, is exactly what allows you to open up to new experiences and the people around you. Im looking forward to traveling again with friends next weekend, but heading out on the road -- just me and my backpack -- brought on all kinds of new experiences and interactions that wouldn't have come about organically had I been surrounded by my Georgetown friends.
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