Holy Cow: An Indian Adventure

I have a very special place in my heart for travel memoirs.  I find them fascinating and whenever I travel somewhere, I am constantly constructing a memoir of my travels in my head.

As you may or may not know, I am a yoga teacher and have a fascination with India.  And, as much as India may beckon to me for her spirituality, her beauty, and her food...I find myself afraid of her poverty, her dirtiness, and her immense population.

Sarah Macdonald moves to India from her native home in Australia to be with her boyfriend (and then husband).  She had been to India once before when she was younger and hated the experience.  Now, she finds herself back in India with a significant other who is never there (he is a journalist and constantly traveling).

She learns much of India from her household staff.  She gets to witness the extravagance and celebration that is the Indian wedding season.  She comes close to death.  She is constantly revolted and ravished by India, by India's extremes.

"India is beyond statement, for anything you say, the opposite is also true.  It's rich and poor, spiritual and material, cruel and kind, angry but peaceful, ugly and beautiful, and smart but stupid.  It's all the extremes.  India defies understanding, and for once, for me, that's okay.  In Australia, in my small pocket of my own isolated country, I felt like I understood my world and myself, but now, I'm actually embracing not knowing and I'm questioning much of what I thought I did know.  I kind of like being confused, wrestling with contradictions, and not having to wrap up issues in a minute before a commercial break.  While the journalist in me is still curious about he world, I'm still not really missing the way my old job confined my perceptions of life.  My confinement here is different--I'm trapped by heat and by a never-ending series of juxtapositions.  India is in some ways like a fun house hall of mirrors where I can see both sides of each contradiction sharply and there's no easy escape to understanding."

One of the most striking aspects of the book is describing India's poverty and cruelty.  As westerners, we have ideas of great food, beautiful architecture, and beautiful saris.  India is a country wracked by poverty.  "How I miss Australia, where destitution comes via television images, and I can press the off button.  India makes me feel anything but lucky and happy.  As the Vipassana high wears even thinner and my Sikh strength further fades, I feel increasingly dismayed and guilty.  I feel guilty for not giving these women money and guilty for knowing it wouldn't be enough.  I feel guilty for being in a position where I'm privileged enough to be a giver rather than a taker and I feel guilty for wanting more than I have and taking what I do have for granted.  At times I feel angry at the injustice.  But most of all I feel confused and confronted.  Why was I born in my safe, secure, sunny Sydney sanctuary and not in Kesroli?  India accepts that I deserved it, but I can't.  I wait for understanding and for the monsoon."

Another aspect of the book that I found endlessly engrossing was Sarah's small ventures into the many faiths and religions of India.

She goes to Kashmir and encounters Islam.  "Inshallah is a common word in Kashmir.  In this state nothing is taken for granted.  Everything is 'if God is willing'.  The word 'Islam' actually comes from a root of a word that means 'complete surrender,' but Mehmooda's fatalism astounds me.  In India I've slowly been learning that I'm not in complete control of my life.  I got sick, Jonathan is constantly called away and India's general disorganization means things never really turn out as I expect, but Mehmooda's faith and fatalism make me realize how much I still cling to the belief that I have power over my destiny.  Perhaps it's time to let that go.  Back at the boat on the lake of lotuses I shiver with thoughts of surrender, for it seems such surrender requires sacrifices I could never make.  I'm not sure I want that depth of faith and I can't imagine being capable of it."

The majority of Indians are Hindu, which is a faith that I yearn to learn more about.  The more I learn about it the more fascinating it becomes.  The more it feels real and true to me.  "Hinduism is a faith of almost infinite diversity.  Yet the broadest, most complicated religion on the planet actually caters brilliantly to the individual.  It seems every Hindu is free to create and follow his own unique religion, choosing his own gods and methods of worship.  The gods of non-Hindus are respected and Hindu gods are generously shared.  A young boy called Anu walks me back t my camp and gives me some options for puja.  I can look to Hanuman for energy, Varuna (the god of water) if I want rain, Lakshmi (Vishnu's consort, the goddess of wealth) if I need money and Sarawathi (Brahma's consort the goddess of knowledge) if I have an exam coming up.  Ganesh (the elephant god and the child of Shiva and Parvati) can be called on when starting a new journey or venture and Vishnu, Rama or Krishna if I want purity of spirit.  Anu bids me good-bye, saying, 'just be taking your picking, all is for one and one is for all.'"

Sarah explores all the spirituality that India has to offer.  She goes to a ten day Vipassana meditation retreat.  She explores the gurus of India, yoga, and the Kumbh Mela.  She visits the Sikhs and the Jains.  She visits Dharamsala and watches the Dalai Lama speak.  She shares Seder with some expatriate Jews. She learns about the diminishing Parsi population.  She even spends time learning about her cultural religion, Christianity.  "By absolving my anger about Christianity I have cleared the last obstacle that stood blocking my readiness for faith.  I realize I don't have to be a Christian who follows the church, or a Buddhist nun in robes, or a convert to Judaism or Islam or Sikhism.  I can be a believer in something bigger than what I can touch.  I can make a leap of faith to a higher power in a way that's appropriate to my culture but not be imprisoned by it."  With all of these abundant faiths in one country, it is no wonder that India conjures ideas and dreams of faith and spirituality.

Overall, this was a beautiful travel memoir and I highly recommend it.