Poop, Heat Stroke, and Beggars--memories of India

A year ago, at this time I was in India.


All of my memories of India are re-seen through the lens that I was uncomfortably hot, sick with diahhria and overwhelmed constantly by the poverty and beggars, and by the fact that I could be robbed at any minute.


I remember being in Mussorrie, a mountanious village town north of Rishikesh. I was wearing a white t-shirt, and a long floral printed loose skirt with sandals. It was about 10am, and the class was walked to a Tibetan Buddhist Stupa. Just as we arrived at the temple, without any warning, I felt a deep rumble in my stomach. I had to go, now. I looked around and felt instant panic. My bathroom break could't even wait 5 minutes. I looked around and spotted a couple of 3-sided wooden outhouses on top of a mound, overlooking hills of jungle. I ran over, hoping that the outhouses weren't filthy, and weren't occupied. Thank goodness, they were free of other people, and swept clean with a broom of sticks and muddy water. I squatted over the hole in the ground, so so so thankful I hadn't had an accident all over myself. After I was finished, I was exhausted. Truly exhausted. It was the poop experience of my life.

Since the outhouse was 3-sided I had a clear and beautiful view of the enormous green valley that rolled out in front of me. I looked closer at the plants that grew in profusion on the hills. It was Marajuana. Yes, indeed it was. There was no mistaking that. I remembering hearing a story about how Marajuana grows freely, without cultivation in northern India. They call Marajuana "pig food." Apparently, people feed it to their pigs, and it gives their pigs the munchies.

Suddenly, I realized I didn't have any toilet paper, and I didn't feel comfortable washing myself using the water in the tin bucket that was buzzing with flies. Again, I felt overcome with panic, and felt the urge to cry a little bit. I realized what I had to do was to take off my underwear, and let my butt air dry under my flowing skirt.

So this is what I did. I never went into the Tibetan Buddhist Stupa that day. Obviously, I felt dirty. I also felt embarrassed and shocked that this was happening to me. I remember hiding my underwear under my arm and separating my legs in hope that whatever was wet would dry under there.

A few days later I went back and left a 500 ruppee note on the alter, in thanks for providing the sick traveller with a clean, scenic place to do her bussiness.

This is the theme that every single one of my India experiences were colored with. Of course, I saw and experienced beautiful things, but I was constantly distracted by poop, heat and safety issues.

Gotta love India.

Thank you for allowing me to share that story.