Life in India

So a while ago I was skype-talking to the family and my brother, Adam, says, "It sounds to me like your experience in India is kind of manic. Like one day you're happy and everthing's fine and the next day everything's crap." Adam's only mostly right. These changes happen by the minute. But I don't hate it here, even tough I've found myself on several occasions shaking my fist in a semi-circle and shouting, "Damn you India!!! Damn you to hell!!!" I don't mean it. And it doesn't matter anyway, Hindus don't believe in hell.
I know I've already talked about it a lot, but it's hard to explain, these mixed feelings, these highs and lows....here's the deal:
Life here is not easy or comfortable. It's dirty and stinky and hot. And there's always some problem; and if we're not currently experiencing a problem, we know there's one lurking, just around the corner.
And then there's the fact that I feel like a huge jerk for even thinking that my life is uncomfortable. All I have to do is look two inches in front of my face and see that everyone else around me is worse off. And this stinks too. Just the other day we were on our way to school and I see, from a distance that the road construction has caused a water pipe to break and a huge jet of water is spraying all over the place. And then we get closer and I see that this huge jet of water is spraying right onto this guy's house, and by house I mean a tarp held up with sticks. And the guy, the owner, is just sitting there, watching everything he owns get destroyed, because what else can he do? And you know, that's his LIFE. That's his every day!
Ok, and my worst day of the week is Wednesday because that's our driver's day off and so we ride a rickshaw to and from school. And on these days I feel so, so grateful for our car because riding a rickshaw is SICK. Gah, I just feel so diseased after sitting in one of those things. They're completely open to all the elements: smells, sights, sounds....you could, at any given moment on a rickshaw, reach out and touch a bus, or a person, or a cow. And it's scary on a rickshaw. I subconsciously hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut for almost the entire ride. But then you consider that this is basically luxury travel because on the buses that are bearing down on us there are maybe 80 people crammed inside or hanging out the door, and everyone is obviously hot and sweaty and covered in grime, and the ones who are lucky enough to have a seat are pressed up against the wide open windows, so much so that you can see the dents in their skin. And again, that's their life. They ride the bus every day. And here's me, griping about a rickshaw.
So, you see it's already a great big contradiction.
And then there's the times when I almost, really truly like India. Or at least find it amusing. Like these chicken motorcycles I see everywhere. People strap a cage full of live chickens to the back of a motorcycle and haul them off to who knows where and the chickens just bounce around on the road like it's no big deal. They don't flap around or anything. They just sit there, enjoying the sensation of the wind through their feathers.
And the colors here are so bright. You see a filthy-ass street with people walking around on it in gorgeous pinks and greens and yellows. Even the trucks here have pretty colors and decorations (I know this because I've been able to closely examine them from the vantage point of a rickshaw). And women always have flowers in their hair. And little girls wear bangles around their ankles.
And the people are friendly. Except the woman who I think might be a man that tried to spit on me but missed, almost every other person in the neighborhood smiles when they see us.
The food is good too, but that goes without saying. Indian food is flavorful in the truest sense of the word.
And sometimes, when I'm riding home at night and the sun is setting, I can see the outline of mosques and temples on the road ahead, and I realize that I'm halfway around the world in a place I never thought I'd be. And that I might as well just sit back and enjoy the sensation of the wind through my feathers.