Leaving India

Tomorrow I fly to Bangkok and I am looking forward to exploring a new country and culture (and to eating a beef burger). I some what arrogantly feel like I know India pretty well (which is ridiculous after only a few months in such a huge country) but I can book and catch a train, identify most foods, say 'no', 'go away', 'how much?' and 'cold water?' in Hindi (there are no everyday words for please and thankyou). I have learnt how to cross a road (quickly!) and how to eat only using my right hand. I know when it is appropriate to take off my shoes, cover my head or greet someone with my hands together in the prayer position. I have been to Hindu, Sikh and Jain temples, Muslim mosques and Christian churches and I can identify these people on the streets by what they're wearing, eating or speaking. I know how to ride camels, elephants and, most dangerously of all, rickshaws. I no longer have to look at the numbers on my money, I know how much a hotel room, a bus, a coke and a wall hanging should cost and I know how to get it down to the right price. I can tell when the seal on a bottle of water has been tampered with and that, when catching a cycle rickshaw, one should haggle down to a low price, then pay more.

Despite all of this in reality I have only experienced a tiny part of India, but I am ready to go. I won't miss the constant din of the traffic, particularly the piercing sound of horns and the ever present risk of being hit by a moped. Nor will I miss the smell of urine, the spitting, pushing, staring, hassle or the frequent refrain of 'yes madam?' from evey shop keeper I walk past. I am tired of scrubbig my feet everyday with little effect - I think they will be permanently brown, the dirt having become a part of my skin. What I will miss are the more pleasant smells such as saffron from a lassi shop, insense from a temple and frying street food and the children who surprise me by approaching just to shake my hand, before saying 'How do yooou do?' and giggling to each other when I say 'Very well thank you, how do you do?'. Whilst it sometimes gets anoying I will miss the request 'One photo please?' which turns into a photo with every member of the group, babies shoved in my arms. I will also miss the excellent shopping, leaning out of an open train door and just sitting and drinking chai out of a terracotta pot.

Im sure, however, that I will get different versions of all of this (the good and bad) in south east Asia, which is maybe why I am not too sad to be leaving India. Today I ventured out into the bazzars of Delhi in an attempt to capture a last bit of the madness of India before my camera is filled with pictures of cocktails, palm trees and beaches.