In 2017 I completed a tour of South India (Tamil Nadu) and traveled to Lucknow and Nepal up north. This was an entry from back then which I dug up for Nepali visa application purporses:
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I stayed in Lucknow for about 6 days, which is longer than the average tourist. Many tourists do not stop by here because it is not very well-known. Overall the stay was more pleasant than I expected, but I also had some issues with the food. It is due to my own high ambition to find cheap and high quality vegetarian meals. Most people in the part of town I lived in do not eat out on a daily basis. Even if they do, they tend to stick to certain places. In hindsight, I should have stuck to the restaurants that were already tested and good. During the second half of the time I was in Lucknow, I experienced lack of new options for meals as well as food poisoning. I did not have a good day and I felt sick; still, I tried to just stomach it. I threw up three times, once in the bucket, once on the bathroom floor, and once on the street. During the last time, a stray dog ran across me before I threw up in the public parking lot. The good thing is that excretion is so common that no one bats an eyelid if you throw up in public. I also threw up on the floor once while sitting in a Paris airport and luckily no one saw me. Once I arrived in Germany, an elderly couple changed their seats after seeing me throw up in the regional train. I am proud to say that I am skilled at throwing up in public.
Raj was a kind rickshaw driver who delivered me from home after the third time I threw up. He also helped me look for a medicine shop. He used to drive a car for foreigners and picked up English that way. He only studied till the second class (grade). I asked about his kids, who had Muslims names. I was wondering about whether or not I heard wrong, and then he explained that he is Hindu, his wife is Muslim. “Love marriage,” he used the English phrase. I felt very privileged to know him. He was very nice to me. The only sad thing was that each time I gave him his due, he always felt it was less than he expected. That is a balance I am trying to find: while I am becoming more desi in my habits and planning living costs, others still see me as a foreigner and charge me. I have become more accepting of the foreigner tax and I rarely fight it anymore. Two kind women charged 100 rs for 12 bananas and a bag of strange fruit. I smiled as I gave them the money because I rarely get the chance to give the "foreigner tax" to women. Still, the extent to which Raj expected me was a bit higher than my acceptance level. So we would both be disappointed by the end of the transaction despite the heartfelt chats we would share. In Chinese we say in jest, speaking of money hurts the feelings, so why speak about it? ("谈钱伤感情") while all the while we know that money matters a lot even in relationships.
When I threw up in the bathroom, I tried to clean up myself. But the rice and saag (spinach cooked with butter) were thicker than I expected and would not go down the drain. So I enlisted the help of the cleaning boys of the hotel. They were clearly from a lower caste. I felt pained and embarrassed by the knowledge of their caste status, even though they seemed to not exhibited the same level of consciousness in the way they work and probably feel somewhat higher because they at least clean in a hotel rather than a public street. I am not sure because I was too shy to ask.
Being in India means to some extent inhabiting or condoning the caste system implicitly. Opinions may differ but the social practice of it is almost inevitable. At the end of our trip, Matt suggested to find flip flops at the general shop. I explained to him that only specialized shops sell shoes and leather goods, because the production or service of the product is considered polluting. Still, both despair and hope are most intensely experienced within India. As I know from observing activists of different nationalities, one is still more tuned to social issues when one stays in or closer to the homeland than in exile in some farther country. So one should still live in India, even if that means living within a caste system, in order to be more aware of it and gather knowledge to combat it.
I sat sheepishly on the bed as one of the boys cleaned up the bathroom. He used a cardboard to scrap away the goo accumulated at the drain. He asks with genuine concern about my health and if I need medicine. I understand but he feels the need to use the English word “tablet.” I am grateful and said let’s see. He said if you need it please call the front desk.
On the last day I was tired of trying to reach my desi potential alone. I found several people on Couchsurfing and messaged them. Siddharth replied quickly and we met up the next day. He manages a branch of a career training chain that teaches Indians how to score the Indian GMAT, which is called CAT. He lives with his business partner who shares the same name as he does. He likes traveling and has been to more countries in Europe than I have. He is from a Jain family but does not follow the religion and considers himself to be an atheist. I recommend him the film Ship of Theseus. He asks me why Buddhism is no longer existing in India. I gave him some equivalent of “there was a lot of Buddhist activity in the South and still is” and later also admitted that I was not quite sure why. He bought me lunch and we had dinner at his place, in a “gated community,” something which he considers a good thing to have in India. When we part, he requests me to write a good review of him on Couchsurfing.
Gorakhpur
The bus is gradually filled. Some election commissioners for Uttar Pradesh board the train. Jitendra is excited to talk to me and I offer him chocolate. Later it appeared that he is the second election commissioner on this trip who is interested in me beyond friendship. The first one met me on the train from Delhi to Lucknow who implored me to visit his hometown in Mathura. I found on this trip many people are curious about my plans and proceed to proscribe advice after learning about it. It adds both knowledge and stress at the same time. Jitendra asks if he can come to Lumbini with me. I said I will be living in a temple and I will be meeting friends. He realizes that his chances are slim and parts with me when we arrive.
I arrive at 6am. The ticketer of the bus assures that the cycle rickshaw guy who transports my luggage and I to the station does not cheat me. He is short with distinct features (e.g., large eyes, my favorite), has a very high energy level in his speech as well as a good “fight” in him whenever he argues with the complaining passengers.
Weird sadhus at the station. I give one of them 7 rs because he was very patient in his begging and chanting and looked very scholarly. This place is famous for the Gita Press. The wifi is great and I listened to some Arabic songs and watched videos on Nepal. I meet Subhash at 8AM. He leads me to his friend Kishor, who studies Hindu matters such as astrology in Rishikesh. They provided great company and helped me a lot in crossing the border, e.g. looking after my stuff as I ran around to get the visa. The visa line was shorter than expected since most people who cross are Indians and Nepalis who don’t need a visa. More on them later.
P.S.
Pablo was a Spanish friend and fellow Masters student who joined our tour of Tamil Nadu.
"和Pablo抱怨我们和南印度其他人会面形式很精英 总是有个format然后照相 仿佛我们官方交流很高大上。Pablo指出，其实因为选项有限 采取了精英形式会面才能听到他们想传达的信息 并不会彻底抵消其积极激进意义。我当时很受鼓舞。
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