real India . And boy , does he .
Stepping out of the airport into the New Delhi night is something I ’ ll never forget , because it is then I officially realize — I am in India , by myself , getting into a car with strangers . I find the empty stun gun that I declared at customs in my checked bag , take out the batteries from my carry-on purse , and put them back into the stun gun just in case Gurjant and his cousin turn out to be total psychopaths about to take advantage of a way too trusting Westerner . If my mother knew any of this , she would have a heart attack . But Gurjant is just like he seemed he was online — cordial , warm , and welcoming . And when I arrive at Gurjant ’ s house , it looks just like the pictures he sent me . Yep , he ’ s legit . I begin to surmise that maybe something seems too good to be true because I am an American not used to the hospitable ways of another culture . Gurjant and his family turn out to be some of the kindest , most intelligent and wonderful people I will ever meet in my life . got gang raped in Dharamsala , a city I wanted to visit . That fact that this woman had traveled from California to India for the first time by herself was enough to scare me into forgetting it . But before I did , I made a small post about the incident and how it worried me in one of the Facebook travel groups I had joined . I got a response shortly after from an Indian man in New Delhi , let ’ s call him Gurjant . Gurjant tells me not to be afraid , that I can stay with him and his family when I come . He tells me they will be very happy to have me , that in his culture girls are goddesses . I don ’ t know him nor do I know as much as I think about Indian culture , so I didn ’ t trust him . But he gives me his address which I use as my Indian destination , a requirement for the Visa . I didn ’ t give him a definitive answer , but I didn ’ t make any hotel reservations either .
It was a miracle I made it to the airport , considering the bus broke down and I had to get an Uber cab with several other passengers . Then , while on the flight to Shanghai ( my first international one in 15 years ), the video and music systems broke down leaving us with only the roller coaster turbulence as entertainment for about 9 hours . But , I got there .
In Shanghai , I meet Atul , an Indian national also flying to New Delhi . He is an engineer in San Francisco and is visiting his family . We start a good conversation and manage to switch seats with other passengers to sit together on the plane . As it takes off , I look around , and for the first time in my life , I am the only white woman in a sea of turbans . Now I am the foreigner , I think . If anyone were to be profiled for being suspicious , it would be me ! When I mention to Atul I haven ’ t exchanged any money yet , he hands me a 50 dollar bill , telling me that he wants me to have a good first impression of India . He also invites me to his brother ’ s wedding . I read that in Indian culture it is improper to refuse something if offered , so I take it . It ’ s the start of what is to be a series of incidences that are a testament to the Indian people .
It ’ s hard to sleep the next couple of days as I have arrived in the middle of Diwali , also known as the Hindu festival of lights , which celebrates the homecoming Prince Rama after he defeats the demon king Ravana and rescues princess Sita . Firecrackers and guns are going off throughout the night . Coming during Diwali was pure accident on my part , but yet another strange coincidence , as Gurjant ’ s family considers it to be a sign of great fortune from the Gods . They later tell me through Gurjant that they were certain of this because I had an auspicious forehead and good feet . Gurjant ’ s mother taps me on the head when I first come in and then when I leave , which I am told means blessings to you . In America , I am a broke actress , in India , a sign from the Gods .
Over the next few days , I am treated as one of the family . I am fed and clothed and given traditional Indian jewelry to wear . I make marigold garlands , go to local temples and visit Gurjant ’ s cousin ’ s family , who own a palace and Cauliflower farm . I ride with Gurjant on the back of his motorcycle all over New Delhi , where there seem to be no roads , stop signs , or street lights . Gurjant tells me that driving in India is based on mutual understanding . If you want an experience like no other , where you think you are going to die every few seconds but feel more alive than ever , I recommend riding on the back of a motorcycle in India . It was exhilarating waving and smiling to thousands of dumbstruck people who had never seen a white woman on a motorcycle in India .
His family takes me to the Taj Mahal , about three hours outside New Delhi , and whose appeal to Indians is apparently like that of Statue of
When we arrive , it is 4 AM in New Delhi . Gurjant calls me . He is at the airport . Damn . I realize that I still didn ’ t make any hotel reservations . I am in a foreign country and I have nowhere officially to go except with a stranger I haven ’ t met before . Am I stupid or am I stupid ? I ask Atul if he will go with me to meet Gurjant and tell me what he thinks . I don ’ t even think how awkward this will be . Atul gives me his phone number to keep just in case . I manage to go through immigration without any hassle and meet Gurjant . Before Atul leaves , he says something to Gurjant in Hindi . Later , Gurjant tells me Atul told him to show me the
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