In the morning I said farewell to my new friends at the YSS Dakshineswar Ashram, inviting the ever-gracious staff in reception to come see us at Lake Shrine in California. I found Preeti at breakfast and thanked her for all of the information she shared with me about so many sacred places, like the Kailasa Temple that was carved out of one single rock and the intricately designed, musical pillars in the Hampi, Karnataka, and Tamil Nadu temples that produce musical notes when struck. Some of these pillars emit seven musical notes and are considered engineering wonders of ancient India. I hope to visit some of these places near the end of my journey when I go to the Ellora and Ajanta Caves.

Other beautiful souls bid me a safe journey outside the temple, like the elderly, Indian woman who came up to my car and told me she was from the Encinitas Hermitage — just a few hours from Lake Shrine and which was my first stop on my cross-country USA trip before departing for India. I spent five lovely days in that surf town, camped in my van on a side street near the temple and meditating on the beach. “Such a small world!” she exclaimed.

I waved out the window as my car zoomed off for about…five seconds. Then it was stop and go for over an hour to drive the 12 miles or so to my next lodging. The narrow, cramped streets unfolded like some Indian version of a Dickens novel that goes on forever. We maneuvered slowly through a twisted maze that never ended, with people washing clothes, urinating in the gutter, chopping the heads off chickens, frying up naan, sprawled on the street shoveling rice into their mouths, shopkeepers hawking nachos, cookies, delectable sweets, tea, jewelry, fabrics, kitchen sinks, whatever you want. Some of the shops were no bigger than a small closet. Some were even smaller than that. Rickshaws battled with motorcycles that dueled with cars that swerved around buses that discharged people that joined the masses moving this way and that in a colorful dance of vibrant India, the air fragrant with incense, samosa, chat and raw sewage.

It can be exhilarating and exhausting all at once. I looked warily at some of the shacks that advertised themselves as hotels. Was that one mine? I had no idea where I was going or what I had booked online, other than it cost only $150 for five nights, so I grew surprised as the streets widened and we seemed to be going into a wealthier neighborhood, still congested, but with a much-different vibe — not where life hangs on the edge like the earlier streets but rather how much will I spend today. I had to call a contact at the hotel who instructed my how to navigate the courtyard across from the KFC and ride the elevator to the 3rd floor. Did I need help with my baggage? No, sir. Was I staying in some type of hostel?

To my delight the elevator opened on a small floor, with only one door to my left and one to the right. The one on the right opened up to a small lobby; I stepped into peace and tranquility. After registering the desk manager showed me to my room. Aahhhh. My room, it turned out, seemed luxurious as I entered, with a large bed, desk, chair, table, bathroom and towels. I later had my first hot shower since arriving nearly two weeks ago. I then went out to the new market area to pick up some supplies and, though it was crowded, I didn’t feel like such an oddity as the only white person on the street. No gawking, just the occasional call for me to buy something — or just a friendly hello.

Urban India takes some getting used to, but I feel that I am getting into my groove. The sheer number of people, the traffic, and the noise no longer intimidate or shock. But it sure is nice to have this comfortable room for five days! I feel weird about that, because there is such suffering out there, and I feel overly privileged. So long as people are living in such poverty, we have to question how opulently we live in the West, how we consume with such little regard for the suffering mass of humanity — even on our own streets. As Nelson Mandela said,

“So long as poverty, injustice and gross inequality exist in our world, none of us can truly rest.”