How India broke me down chewed me up and spit me out

At some point in your life it's good to be broken. To be busted down and shown that you aren't as tough or cool or level headed as you think you are. For me this experience came to me in India.

India in some ways is a lot like other places I had been to in my life. There were some similarities to places like Indonesia, Morocco, Turkey, and Cambodia, but there were also things that set it wholly apart from the places and made itself into it's own alien landscape.

Stepping foot into India for the first time I had a feeling it was going to be different, but I really didn't know just HOW much that was going to mean. I had some vague ideas about what to expect and what not to expect. The roads didn't disappoint as they were completely jammed with crazy drivers and cows and people hauling goods in carts, in short, chaos. However the start of the journey was great as I arrived in Goa shortly before New Years 2016. It wasn't in Goa, nor in Pune, Mumbai, or Udaipur, when I started to feel overwhelmed, or maybe it was. It's difficult to say when I started to feel this way, I do know the moment it all spilled over into disdain for everything around me.

You see going to India is the closest thing you will ever have to experiening what it's like to being a celebrity. If you are Caucasian or any other 'exotic' looking person in India you will be approached by countless people who greet you, ask for pictures, give you phone numbers, take pictures of you, stare at you etc.. etc.. etc... This will probably happen twice as much if you are a girl, and twice as much if you are in a market area, where shop owners will not leave you alone not matter how many times you say no.

After I reached my breaking point I actually did an experiment where I was approached by a shop keeper who proceeded to walk with me and attempt to sell me everything in existence without ever receiving even one word of acknowledgement from me. He walked with me for probably 150 meters before he finally gave up. I never said anything to him.

As rough as all that was, the absolute worst was getting off a train and being mobbed by twenty tuktuk drivers all trying to charge you 4-5x the normal fare for a short 1km-2km ride to your destination. I was lucky enough to discover how easy it was to get an Uber that would charge a low rate with minimum hassle. Still travel by the dreaded tuktuk wasn't completely avoidable and I had more than one over-priced and uncomfortable journeys in one of those vehicles which are NOT built for taller people.

It's funny because all this probably isn't much of a problem for some people. There's probably a beautiful girl reading this thinking "doesn't sound worse than my average Friday night at the bar", but for me it was getting to be a hassle to deal with this. I appreciated the enthusiasm and it was nice to be welcomed warmly to a place, but after some time it got to be a bit annoying to be in the middle of a conversation and have it interrupted several times by someone 'welcoming' you. At some point you just want your privacy, and if you don't get it, well...

For me the big moment came in a crowded subway station in Delhi. I was suffering from some sort of food poisoning and had just finished hauling my luggage what felt like a mile, but was probably in fact less than 700 meters. We were trying to figure out what the hell we were doing, but I couldn't stand anymore, I collapsed into a squat on the floor feeling sick. My buddy went to stand in line for tickets, Indian men started to try to talk to me, I didn't feel like talking. I dug into my bag and found a plastic bag with a roll of toilet paper in it. I proceeded to completely fill the plastic bag with vomit while people bumped into me on all sides. Only one person even noticed what was going on.

After that something clicked. I stopped talking to everyone and spent the whole next week doing my very best to just not speak to any of the locals and to try to enjoy my time as best as I could. We went to Varanasi the next day, after I spent 14 hours shivering in bed recovering from whatever had hit me. We were fortunate enough to stay in an amazing hostel where we happened to run into virtually EVERY other backpacker we had met during our month in the country. I was happily insulated from everything around me and I started to find my peace again.

You may think this all sounds very negative and I must not want to ever go back to India again, but actually this is not true. I think that the experience was much needed to teach me some things. I absolutely would like to go back to India again, and when I do I will not be naive enough to believe that I am ready for India, even with all my travel experience. Some things you just can't prepare for, all you can do is show up, live through them, and hopefully come out the other side having learned something.

_{Not sure what train this cow was waiting for, but it was hanging out in the station for quite some time}