My last night in Dharamsala I had a great conversation over cups of chai with a young man named Jame. The topics were two of my favorite - religion and culture. In the past month, I've seen religious zealots in the form of Catholics, Muslims, Hindus, Jains, Sikhs and Buddhists. I've tried to read as much as possible about all these religions, and Jame made a comment that I had also been thinking: "The central teaching to almost every religion is to love and respect other human beings and yourself. Everything else about religion is a minor variation." We both agreed that people who claim that they are religious fundamentalists - around here, Hindus and Muslims especially, can't POSSIBLY be religious. A truly spriritual person would have enough grace and security to forego the massacre of people who think unlike him/her. A truly spiritual person, of any religion, would place respect above conformity. Religion is used as a sword when its bearers feel insecure. Fear - the fear of losing power, land, tradition, faith - is the real culprit.

    On the way back from Dharamsala, my driver made us stop at a Hindu temple, which was fine, but I had to walk barefoot over cow dung to get there. Then he made us stop at his mother-in-law's house in this little farming village - um, grass hut. THEN, we spent the night at his brother-in-law's place which was on an army base in Punjab. The army quarters were shacks among goats and cows. It was an experience I'll never forget. But hanging out with people who speak ZERO English for hours and hours a day is a challenge. I can't say a thing. It's so frustrating. My bad mood was building. It got worse once Mr. Singh told me, "You give me good tip tomorrow. This trip, big loss, I pay for all my family." WHAT THE HELL!?! It was basically HIS vacation and I came along! I paid for the car and his services and let his family come along because I like seeing other people happy and I try to be accomodating - but to demand a big tip was probably the rudest thing he could have done. Things ended somewhat sourly between us, which really upset me because I hate being put in a position where I'm being miserly or rude. But I felt like he had used me to have a family reunion.

    Had the day in Delhi alone and that sucked too. Finally decided to go to a movie by myself. Nearly wept with joy when the rickshaw-wallah dropped me off at a MULTIPLEX CINEMA with A/C and clean toilets! Halleluiah! Actually DID weep with joy when I realized that the movie I was seeing, "Bruce Almighty," was set in Buffalo, New York - mere hour away from Rochester. All this says a lot about my mental state, doesn't it?

    Yesterday I took the train to Agra and saw the Taj Mahal, which was phenomenal, but I was treated like crap there. All day long, men attacked me wanting me to buy postcards, plastic models of the Taj, pencils, etc. I can't remember how many times I had to tell people NO. A rickshaw driver took me from store to store and I got forced to sit through sales pitches for carpets, jewelry and marble furniture. It was frustrasting beyond belief. At one point, this man chased me down the road with a little chess set screaming, "Ma'am, 10 rupees ma'am" over and over again and I turned around and growled, "Why the HELL would I WANT that?". He shrunk back, frightened that I had morphed into Queen Bitch. Yeah well it's my environment, I tell you. I'm not rich, I've saved ages for this trip - and I don't want to be seen as the rich American who has nothing better to do than throw money away as the con artists cackle with glee.

    Couldn't take the shit, the begging, the poverty, the flies, the heat, the ALONENESS anymore, and had a breakdown on the telephone to my poor mother at the train station, while 5 men stood around me, listening to my conversation. Big, ugly, heaving sobs of frustration, "I hate this place, I hate the people, it's so hot, I have no one to talk to, everyone is so rude..." were among my more choice complaints. My mom, bless her, didn't know what to say. I felt better after my shameful outburst however, and collected my belongings to wait for my train. I saw this sign in the train station: "Hate the sin, not the sinner. - Mahatma Ghandi." I silently tried to direct my hatred towards over-population, stratification and poverty, and not towards the people I had encountered all day long.

    Soon, this woman approached me, obviously one of the eaves-droppers on my convo, and said, "Excuse me, what is problem?" I told her my frustrations had built up and, though minor, I was just in a really bad mood. She was SHOCKED to learn I was traveling by myself and told me, "I have to say, in India, when people see you are upset on your face, they will try to take advantage of you." I sniffed miserably, agreeing that my temper tantrum wasn't the wisest course of action. Then she put her arm on my shoulder and looked me in the eye and said, "You have chosen to come alone. You must walk...bravely."

    Easier said than done. We'll see how Varanasi goes.

~Hope