People we Meet in our Journey

One of the best things about traveling is the people you meet in your journey. And it's amazing how much you learn from them. Other than seeing various places, understanding the culture, the life of the native people, I have spent a considerable time with other backpackers from different other places of the world. I have learnt about places and culture that I was barely aware of from these fellows. One such place is of course Israel. About 80% backpackers I met were Israelis. Remaining 20 were French, Spanish, few Americans and others.

After I realized I was the lone tourist in Rahul Guest house at Assi Ghat, I shifted to a new place, called Ganga Bank Guest House where Marti, Loiya and Jordi were living. They were three friends from Barcelona whom I befriended during a morning boat ride. Having quite an American accent (a very helpful thing when you are a lone Indian girl traveling. You can pretend you are not local, to stop Indian men pounce on you. In some ways they fear foreigners) they presumed, I was an American..which however I clarified (I try to tone down my accent a lot when speaking to Indian people in English,I don't know why they find it offensive!). The guest house people initially seemed very nice, but turned out to be pieces of craps. The woman had 4 daughters, all were away (either married or abroad for studies) other than her younger one. I took a corner room, for 200INR a night. Most of the time there was no electricity, but I was thrilled that there was an Western style bathroom with marbled floor and a shower that actually worked!


I went with the Spanish guys to Sarnath. In the next two days we became good friends. Loiya could speak Kavalan language, she belonged to that tribe. There seemed to be a few other backpackers who knew her language at the Singh guest House (where we used to eat, food was amazing, cheap and ummm...delicious!). Evening we went to the main Ghat for Arati (second time for me, and I loved it). I also went to the Golden Temple (the police were so rude, harassing..also they thought I was a tour guide since I was with what they call "foreigners") and left my stuffs with Loiya. Later we went shopping together. At idle times, over lunch and dinner we used to talk about our lives, culture, living. Loiya was a drawing teacher, Marti a teacher for autistic children and Jordi was a mechanical engineer, but he quit his job before coming to India and wanted to do something new. Jordi was plump with a french beard, never married, but extremely jolly and good at heart. So were the girls. Loiya was divorced. And Marti never married either.So technically we were a bunch of singles.


A few guys at the guest house asked me, why I was traveling with "foreigners". Hah, how could I explain that Indian backpackers are practically nonexistent? I would be happy to club with another fun loving guy/gal from country backpacking like me! I found none. But on a serious note, it's been now so many years I have befriended this whole world. These people don't feel anymore stranger than I am to myself. How can anyone understand that? Like Jane says, the whole world feels like home. It's been eight long years that those boundaries have been broken. In the last two years,I have lived, loved, fought, had the best times with "these" people that people of my country gape at, as if they are from some other planet. To many of them I have been able to relate more those of my place. I still remember at Aurangabad sitting in a "kala jeep" a poor woman and her two daughters were mesmerized by me. I could not follow their language, but they wanted me to come to their house. I went there, a house smaller than the size of my bedroom, with a roof so low, that I could barely stand upright. I was scared at first, but it was okay. They were so happy to have me there ....and I realized that they are quite unaware of the all-so modern civilization in a city (Mumbai) just next to them. I also felt funny thinking that I could relate to Julia and Mandy much more than I could to these people, who were my very own. I have a feeling in America, (or other European countries) two Americans, no matter how rich or poor can relate better to each other, than to a person from a different race or country. May be cause they speak the same language?

The diversity in my country amuses me. This is a place like no other.

Coming back to where I was. Second day in Varanasi, I was having food with my Spanish friends at the Singh Guest House when I met Betty. Betty was sitting alone in the couch, talking to Dannie, one of the hotel boys. Betty first thought me to be an Italian (an Indian backpacker is out of imagination), but ofcourse I introduced myself. Betty was from Israel, a country I barely had any idea about. Turned out Betty and me were to leave for Rishikesh on the same day. So, we thought we could travel together. I wouldn't deny, sometimes I found her very loud and insistent in her talks. I was a bit scared of her too...she was really strong and tall compared to me. And yet, in course of our travel I became so fond of her, it was difficult to let go.

During my last dinner together with Spanish guys, Loiya said I touch people's heart very easily. I don't know about that. I knew all those encounters were brief, and yet I wanted to absorb as much as I could. I wanted to picture Spain, and their lives there, about Marti's house near the beach, about the festivals they told me about. In the evening Loiya and I went to the Varanasi masala shop, and I showed her the unique masalas...they are the most unique thing in India.We bought a few of them, and she could take them home.I used to observe Loiya quite a bit. She looked soft and somewhat vulnerable, smoked 30 cigarettes a day, and used to take out her drawing book and sketch something whenever she found anything interesting. Or may just while waiting for food.


At Rishikesh, I used to share room with Betty and Ginger. Ginger was a read haired boy that Betty met at Leh and became friends. They met again at Rishikesh, while I was with Betty. I didn’t want to be very presumptuous about how it would be moving in with two Israelis; all I needed was some space in the bed to squeeze in. However, they happened to be the first Israeli people I ever made friends with, cause even in America I don't remember meeting any. Also with their white skin, I hadn’t been able to figure out their origin easily. In couple of days, I became very close to both Betty and Ginger who treated me like a young sister. Betty would yell at me sometimes even (she was 38) when I would jump out early from the bed! Ginger and I would make apple hookahs together and smoke at our balcony looking out at the Ganga. Sometimes we would sit together and Play “Shitted” a variation of “Uno”, the card game. But it wasn’t just them. The whole Laxman Jhula or..Rishikesh was full or Israeli tourists, to whom India is a second home.


Before I had met Betty, I was barely aware of Israel. Times, I had offended her by mixing up Iraq, Iran and Israel (THEY ARE VERY DIFFERENT, JUNE!), because I knew so little of them. Vague stories like there’s some war going on there. I didn’t know about the people who lived there, and now I met them here, conversing with each other in Hebrew and yet pretty fluent in English. Israeli men, lot of them are brown, have deadlocks, and a strong built. Some of them are as white as Americans or Europeans. It’s hard to tell them apart at times. It’s a small country of seven million people surrounded by Muslim countries all around who continuously wedge war against them. And here I would come to the reason, why they visit India of all places, SO much.


After high school most Israelis have to join the army. Those few years are the toughest in their lives. No doubt they look so strong and robust! But to take a break, they run to some place, and obviously India is the cheapest for them. And then there is the temptation of cheap drugs. Where else would you get 5gms hash for $10? They come here, roam around for months, in the beautiful Himalayas..or just hang around at Rishikesh smoking, singing and sleeping. Though the country is mostly Jews, the people aren’t religiously fanatic. I heard there are some orthodox Jew groups. It is expected for Jews to stay home in Saturday and read the Torah (the book of Jews). And in come localities if you go out that day, they gonna attack you. There are no buses on Saturdays for this reason. But overall, the people looked neither orthodox nor conservative, or overtly religious. They were like us, the modern breed, simple, merry, gay.


The Israeli people aren’t really interested in the war. After the UN declared the partition of Palestine for a separate Jewish state in the 1940s, Israel accepted it, but the proposal was opposed vehemently by the Arab leaders who wedged a war against Israel. Since then the country is always targeted by the neighboring Muslim regions which do not accept Israel’s independence. There are numerous bombings from Gaza. I heard the West Bank people are more amicable. However the Israelis aren’t allowed to enter any of the Muslim regions (even their commercial airplanes do not fly over any of the Islamic countries!). I sometimes wonder if the common hostile feeling towards the Muslim makes India so much favorable to Israelis! There are surprise attacks in their country all the time (one such violent attack was when Golda Meir was the Prime Minister, and after the attack she resigned)..rockets missiles thrown every then and now! However the Israeli army is exceptionally strong, protecting such a small country and population from the ruthless attacks from all the sides.


As I figured out, Israelis don’t really want war. In fact they are quite accommodating kind of people. Another interesting thing that I figured out is that, in fact all the three religions Jew, Christian and Muslim are very related. All have their origins in Jerusalem. Jew is probably the oldest (Mary was a Jew?) followed by Christians. I suppose Mohammed the prophet was a Jew by birth as well. Sometimes I think in stead of fighting they should try to relate to the other more…but no matter. It’s just an odd thought.


Israelis are very modern (contrary to what I had in mind, Jews might be orthodox or , especially when you live amidst some Muslims countries, you dress and think conservative?). They turned out to be very educated as well. It is compulsory for all of them to go to school (and Bible is compulsory in school), and many of them have a bunch of degrees and diplomas. Ginger , who confessed to love learning, had degrees in Engineering, medical, philosophy, and finance. Before coming to India he worked as an investment banker. After returning he would go back to school to join MBA. Israeli girls are extremely pretty. They are not white like Americans or Europeans, but fair with a little brownish tinge, light brown or green eyes, long black or brown hair, and usually slim tall built. Betty had deadlocks. Some girls do. They are culturally very enriched too, took a lot of interest to know about India, or Indian music. Rickie and Judo in particular had amazing voices. They were exceptionally talented. Their music fetched me to Freedom café every evening, and it is where I met Melaine.


Melaine was a French guy, who spoke English as good as an American. And though he had dirty blonde long hair, people would often mistake him as an Israeli as well (may be cause everyone else is!). I moved in with Melaine after Betty left. I liked him. He was a student of ecology, traveling for a year now through Africa, Vietnam, SE Asia, Cambodia, and now India. He is joining Trinity College in fall. He is of my age, and has seen so much more of the world than I can imagine. He was for couple of years in California as an exchange student and has some of family in Boston. Melaine was basically from South France, didn't believe in any religion (I actually asked...I guess it's the same with all travelers ), and has his roots in Poland and Russia (his grandparents were Jews). Melaine would often catch up with some other French people. One of them was Damien, from Paris. He was very French. With his typical scarf and head cap. Melaine often told me people from Paris are very rude. He would talk to me about French girls, and about so many other things. We would order food, and most of the time his would turn out to be better and I would eat half of it. We would get cosy and joke about French affairs. Famous french lovers. Explore possibilities and kiss each other for hours when we were about to head off for a hike. And sometimes I would feel so lost. Lost, wondering what sets us apart...or are those boundaries just our imagination?