India as Emotional Bootcamp

I’m not embarrassed to say that I cried a lot in India. Nearly every day. Normally, I am not a Crier but rather a Repressor. This tendency to bury strong emotions, good or bad, has led to some problems in my life which I am committed to resolving. And I have India to thank for that. 

India doesn’t give a shit if you’re hesitant or scared. India will force you out of your own head and sweetly demand that you open your heart, scars and all. It isn’t India’s job to be respectful, or fair. India doesn’t owe you anything. I came to India to learn. Yes, with my cohort but also to test myself. And I learned a lot more than I really wanted to know. I learned that I am anxious. I learned that I will always believe in the kindness of strangers, even as they are groping me. I learned that I value the wrong things. Money doesn’t matter. Job titles come and go. Relationships are only beneficial when they are healthy. I learned not to dwell on someone else’s bullshit. I learned that my intuition is crazy awesome. I learned to listen. I learned that I can feel it when someone is being dishonest and I can also feel it when someone has the best intentions. I learned to trust my gut, literally. My stomach is strong; it took every gastrointestinal assault India threw my way! I learned that I am not an alcoholic; I just really like the feeling of a glass between me and the people around me. I realised that I am stronger than I thought, not physically but the kind of strength that can carry you through a dark place and into the light. I found out who my friends are. I learned to appreciate simple things like a smile from a stranger or a really great belly laugh.

Bollywood star in training

Most of all I learned to see the beauty in the seemingly random events in life. I was getting an oily, ayurvedic massage in a woman’s tin hut one day in Varkala. When it was finished, suddenly a huge clap of thunder shook the beach, we lost power and the hugest monsoon began. I had my laptop with me and was really far from my guesthouse, so she invited me to stay until the rain slowed down. She lit candles as her eight children rushed into the hut and away from the rain. We didn’t speak the same language, but we found a common love: dance and performance. The woman’s youngest daughter performed for us, singing in Hindi and dancing. Every movement told a story, and for four hours I sat there, mesmerized. Eventually she convinced me to get up too and I showed them some tap moves and ballet poses. I felt ridiculous and also accepted by these strangers whose lives I was able to penetrate for one evening in the dark. I felt honoured to have spent the time with her family. At home, I would have felt like an intruder, or felt anxious about being trapped in a hut with strangers, but it was one of those moments which I will always treasure. We had nothing in common but the rain and the fact that we both know what I look like naked, but we parted as friends.

I swear I wasn't holding them at gunpoint.