So I know this post comes a few weeks past due, and it isn't actually part two of my mountain expedition, but I am going to leave you in suspense on that for a little longer. I have been in Benares for two weeks now trying to get back into the swing of things. When on Thursday I got really ill. I had a high fever, with massive amounts of diarrhea. I made around 50 or 60 trips to bathroom in a matter of 24 hours. Quite an unpleasant experience, but that was also coupled with vomiting and an inability to keep solids or liquids down my gullet. This was all highly unpleasant and filled with a tremendous amount of vulgarities and laying in bed wondering the real reason I can to this dreadful place (emphasis added by the author...ME!) I am typically a pretty optimistic person, not relying on the negativity to feed my ego, but hot damn did being that sick SUCK! Last night, after not having heard from me in two days, my program director and my hindi instructor, both came and paid me a visit. They brought me some water, juice, crackers, and bread. Everything I needed. They also brought the very human thing of company, which at times I feel should be interchangeable with comfort. My hindi instructor did as he always does and tried teaching me more hindi. While not attempting to help him, I greatly appreciated his efforts. They left last night (Friday) and allowed me to slowly stitch back together my stomach, esophagus, and anus (graphic I know, but I am giving an uncut look into my life, from my perspective, in India). This morning, I ate some more bread, and stretched my bones. After laying in bed with fever for nearly two days, my body ached and needed to be appealed to for some motion. Getting rolling and walking up to my roof (only one flight of stairs) I realised how truly drained I was. After a little nauseousness and tiredness up there I quickly retreated to my bed for a short four hour nap. Upon waking up I had the idea, and the motivation, to go for some soup. I went down to the local cafe, and hung out there, enjoying the salty vegetable noodle soup. It was really nice to keep down food for once.
Regaining some composure, an older gentleman sat down at the table next to me. It is a really fascinating thing how life throws people and ideas at you, just at the time you need them. This gentlemen was from Holland and he had been in India for 30 years. He attained his Ph.D. from Benares Hindu University, and has been writing books ever since. We had a short conversation regarding many things, but two things he said to me have made me look at being in India in a totally new light. Firstly he said, "I get the real reward of learning a language when I realize that I am now able to speak with 500 million more people than before." Doing the quick calculation in my head, I realized that in just the few months of hindi classes, I am able to speak, however rudimentarily, with 1/10th more people on the planet. Thats 10% MORE than before. I had not even thought about learning hindi in that way, Totally new Perspective! Secondly, Frances told me that there are three types of people that come to India; those that come here and love it; those that come here hate it and run away; and then the category I put myself into, those that come here and need to learn live with it. I know I can do it, not because at this moment of weakness I want to, but because I've left myself, intentionally, no other choice. I will keep moving, as I always do. In the direction I see fit.
Take care,
Craig