Kolkata provided me with an education in so many ways. Coming from the comfort, convenience and general cleanliness of the West (at least on the surface!), I succumbed to initial shock at the sight of so many humans squeezed into such small spaces and suffering such depravity, with garbage piled everywhere and hungry packs of dogs milling about and howling in the night. The constant cacophony of horns blaring provided a shrill soundtrack to the mad rhythm of the streets.

It would be easy to judge and condemn, but looking deeper I saw the kindness Indian people have in their hearts, even under these conditions, and how they view all equally. They give all of their spirit, especially in the temples and ashrams scattered throughout their cities, at the makeshift shrines built along dirty sidewalks and food stands. Kolkata comes at you hard, but with a soft heart. The city taught me how not to react to my initial impulse and to look more deeply, to exercise patience and courtesy, to treat all with kindness. I really developed a great friendship with the two gentlemen at my hotel who did all the dirty work. Although we didn’t share the same language, we had many running jokes and communicated with smiles and laughs, and then a slight bow or comical shake of the head. I miss them already.

Landing in the lush, mountainous region of Rishikesh seemed like arriving to a peaceful slice of paradise. And I remember how just two months ago when I arrived here for the motorcycle journey how it seemed like such a shock! Now it was peace and calm. No horns, and the driving seemed downright civilized in comparison to Kolkata. The first time it was madness!

But I was in for a shock when I got to my hotel. After pleading with a pair of army guys limiting the flow of cars into this part of town, we finally got past their barricade and descended to a very narrow street that ran along the river. I recognized this street from our walk to the Beatles Ashram with Greg, Paul, Eric, and Sandra during our second day at Sattva Yoga Academy for the Wheels of Awakening tour. In fact, we passed the intersection where we got stuck for a few hours while returning from the Himalayas, because they were repairing the road up to Sattva that had been washed out by heavy rains. There were the little cafes where we mingled with the locals and danced on top of the van with our new friends. What fun we had here, turning what could have been a nagging delay into a period of enjoying the here and now.

We then passed the jewelry shop of Anand’s father where we stopped and ran into Jen from Road to Dharma. What a celebrity she was for us at that time, and soon to be a lovely, lovely friend! My excitement quickly grew to dismay, however, as I walked up a tight staircase to the dirty reception area of my “hotel,” and then was shown a depressing hovel that overlooked the noisy road. That night I hardly slept. The dirty sheets had holes in them, and the noise of the street kept going until about midnight, and after a 30-minute interlude, some metal door or trap kept banging loudly shut every five minutes for the next six hours. I vowed to get out of here as soon as I could.

In the morning I wanted to leave and check out a few other hotels in the area but found that I was locked inside. No one was at reception. I finally got a hold of the manager and someone came to let me out. I was polite the whole time, didn’t complain, but just let them know that there was no way I could stay here. I thanked them and apologized, ignoring that little me inside that wanted to complain or felt offended with the conditions here. No. The vibe on the street was so wonderful, the surroundings so beautiful, and what did it matter, really? I just couldn’t stay there.

I managed to find a much nicer room just 100 meters away, and look at the beautiful view I had last night before going to that terrible room (featured photo). What could be wrong??