I love Bollywood tunes, but CBC radio gets more airtime in our home. Hindi films are a commitment of time and occasionally patience, both rare luxuries in a household with young kids. We seldom manage to get to the temple.  Indian garments are impractical for daily life.  English is our primary form of communication, with French being a close second (thanks to my husband) and Hindi coming in a distant third (I am not saying who is charged with that responsibility!).  The fact that I manage to serve my family an Indian meal a couple of times a week is, in my mind, a major accomplishment.  And our gatherings with our Indian friends are so culturally neutral that we could swap in people of other backgrounds and no one would ever know the difference. 

In fact, we once hosted a traditional Diwali celebration and insisted that everyone wear Indian clothes (even our non-Indian guests) and one of our Indian friends commented that it was a very cool theme for a party! So, when my parents, who are enjoying their carefree golden years after a lifetime of sacrifice and hard work, breeze into town to visit their grandchildren after their 92-day winter sojourn in India, it is as if a welcome gust of India blows in with them.  As they open up their suitcases to show us all the bright and colourful wares they brought back for us, as the distinct smells of bazaars waft out, and as they regale us with tales of adventures and pleasures, I am instantaneously transported to a world so different than the one I inhabit and I am reminded once again of what a crazy, wonderful and amazing place India truly is. India amuses and bemuses me, overwhelms and frustrates me, fascinates and inspires me, but in the end, it simply awes me.  In this vast and diverse land, you can find just about anything you seek: urban centres pulsing with energy, congestion, modernity and antiquity; endless fields of fertile farmland; majestic deserts with rolling sand dunes and whimsically adorned camels; swaths of golden sandy beaches; intricate palm tree-lined navigable canals; cooler climate hill-station retreats; vast jungles teeming with wildlife; and majestic snow-capped mountains.  Medieval fortresses and ancient temples stand as testaments to history, tradition and lore, co-existing with the pervasive influence of progress.  There is a rich diversity of religions and languages, rituals and cuisines. 

India is at once simple and complex, sparse and plentiful, old and new…it defies definition and is a place of glaring contradictions.  India is an all out assault on your senses and incessantly challenges you, but ultimately, rarely fails to charm.  All of which makes it so undeniably remarkable. Against this impressive backdrop, I have experienced another, more personal India, one that puts a smile on my face, renews my faith in humanity and welcomes me warmly into its embracing fold. If you look for it, and sometimes even when you don’t, India constantly entertains.  Apparently, there was nothing out-of-the ordinary when an enormous elephant carrying a big load of hay caused mayhem for cars, scooters, auto rickshaws, bikes and pedestrians which had to shift helter-skelter to accommodate the moving roadblock up a narrow Udaipur road. 

And have you ever wondered how many people can fit on a one-seat motorbike?  That burning question now has an answer - a man, his wife, their two children…and a goat!  I once saw a Sardarji driving a car, except that his entire driver side door was missing…I was in fits of laughter as I watched his foot accelerate and brake, but no local thought anything of it.  Presumably to warn pedestrians, a car we once hired to drive us around belted out filmi songs every time the driver put the car in reverse.  Shopping for shoes is novel.  I walked into a store with shoes on display much like in stores here, albeit a much smaller sized store.  When I asked for shoes in my size, a man perched in the room above the ceiling would drop them from a small cutout into the store below!  And where else in the world would you find men willing to be draped with sarees for the benefit of shopping women?  Be warned if you ask anyone for directions in India, people are only too happy to oblige, though no one quite knows where anything is located (since street names are less relevant to Indians than landmarks).  And let’s not forget the marvel of the Indian postal system with delivery addresses like “behind the bus stand” or “near the sweet shop, beside the big, yellow house”. India is also a place that restores your faith in people.  Twice we witnessed the unbelievable generosity of young children deprived of the simplest of pleasures. 

In rural Orissa and another time in Varanasi, my husband and I gave away some candy.  Rather than quickly savouring the delight before other children would swarm them, they each deliberately saved the candy so that they could share with siblings and friends.  On the eve of Christmas in Udaipur, I hired a tailor to make me a dress.  I paid the money and asked for the dress to be delivered at the Lake Palace Hotel (only accessible by boat) later that same evening where we were enjoying a Christmas feast.  After the soiree, the market would be closed and I was going to head straight out of town.  In other words, if he simply kept my money and failed to deliver the dress, there was nothing I could do about it.  We decided it would be an interesting experiment in human behaviour, and had already written off the dress when someone tapped my husband on the shoulder and handed us a package…we were humbled by the tailor’s decency and honesty, not to mention his industriousness at tailoring a dress within two hours and finding us amidst hundreds of Christmas revelers. In India, I have experienced hospitality parallel to none.  Where guests are honoured and no effort or expense is spared to host them, it almost goes without saying that our relatives welcome us with love and affection and care for us in ways that leave us wanting for nothing.  My husband and I were also welcomed into the home of virtual strangers for two months simply because of a very distant blood connection.  On this recent trip, my parents were invited into the homes of several new acquaintances – first a round of water was served, then juice, followed by a plate of fresh fruit, then a platter of dried fruit and nuts, then a tray of savoury dry snacks, culminating in hot tea and hot fried snacks.  And this was just ‘tea’!   Ever since my parents arrived here, our home has been infused with what I have been craving…the sights, sounds, tastes and feel of my Indian culture.  One day, I hope to return to my beautiful, imperfect India with my children so that we can experience all that it has to offer together.  In the meantime, my parents’ visits will do just perfectly.