Venturing to India:

The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese

One of the most engaging novels I’ve finished in the new year is The Covenant of Water, by Abraham Verghese. It begins with the arranged marriage between a twelve-year-old girl and a man in his forties, a tradition still practiced in India, where the story unfolds. For years, husband and wife are just acquaintances, but when the girl grows up, the two of them fall in love, and so begins a mythic tale spanning seventy-seven years. 

India has always ranked at the top of my travel bucket list. As a new hire at a discount airline, I once begged an administrative assistant to give me an extra four days vacation to make my dream come true. Eleven days off was more doable than seven, so I dragged Rodeo across the world to test the waters of our new relationship. As I recently read Verghese’s book, all those memories flooded in. 

Leaving customs in Delhi, we noticed a thick haze engulfing the exit. It was a perfect temperature to travel to India, but far too cold for the locals. Cow pies burned in huts all over Delhi to keep its residents warm. The sky was a thick gooey mess. Rodeo’s eyes teared up as we hailed a cab. For the next two days, he blew his nose raw, using up all four packs of Kleenex I’d brought on the trip. 

We couldn’t wait to leave this massive city. After hiring Deepak, our driver, we headed toward Agra, home to the Taj Mahal. Along the way, whenever birds flocked to the road to eat seeds fallen from a farm truck, Deepak stopped the car, jumped out, and shooed the birds to safety. I liked him immediately. At one point, we came upon a camel pulling a cart, a farmer on top, in the middle of the four-lane freeway. It caused a huge snarl in the traffic, but no one seemed surprised by it except us. There were big trucks on the road that didn’t have brakes, so whenever we stopped on a hill behind one of them, Deepak would throw the car into reverse, always managing to get out of the way. 

The view out the car window mesmerized me. At one point, I saw four sacred cows lounging by the side of the road on a bed of plastic water bottles. When a motorbike whizzed by, I counted four passengers crammed on one seat. “Anything is possible in India,” Deepak said.

My eyes ached from over stimulation. In Agra, a wedding procession stopped traffic and two guys duked it out on our front bumper. In the auto rickshaw next to us, three women began singing a song, while another woman, beside the road, balanced a tall basket on her head and weaved skillfully around piles of trash, her spine straight, her chin held high. She was used to the chaos, but for me it was all such a shock. It took some time to settle into the frenetic pace of India. 

What helped me adapt was getting up early in the morning to walk around before sunrise. At this hour, the pilgrims begin to line up for food at the temple doors. It is so peaceful because everyone works well into the evening hours, so India wakes up slowly, at a pace more to my liking. I taught Rodeo how to play chess in India. We would sit on a private verandah perched on the Ganges River in the sacred city of Haridwar, enjoying some well needed down time in the afternoon. Outside the hotel, everyone vied for our attention, so this was our time to enjoy.

One morning on a hike to a temple, a group of middle school girls approached Rodeo. They wanted to know where he lived, what he did for work, and how old he was. The girls paid no attention to me, but insisted I take photos of them posing with him. My Hollywood moment happened at the Taj when two young women dressed in snappy silk outfits insisted I hang out with them. We wrapped our arms around each other like old friends while Rodeo snapped a photo.

Returning home, I felt like I’d been away for a lifetime. I had dreams about flying through the air like a superhero. On a hike near my home, I saw a herd of elk, fifty two in all, where I’d never seen elk before. I realized that India left a giant thumbprint on my heart. Many years later, I’m still trying to digest my experiences there. I want to go back, maybe volunteer at an orphanage, but for now, reading books like The Covenant of Water take me there.