After being overcharged for rickshaws, water, food, clothing and using the restroom; after being gawked at, stared at, laughed at and having "one snap" taken of me at least 100 times; after having the power go out on my in the shower, in a restaurant, while eating mangoes, while reading, and in an elevator with a strange man; after being ridiculously hot and sweaty only to freeze during the night and wish for a warm sun; after crying for the poverty, the dirt, the noise, the children, then ignoring it, then crying again for realizing what it was I had come to accept; after cold showers, bucket showers and no showers at all; after 8 hour bus rides with no air conditioning; after being terrified to look at, speak to, acknowledge the beggars on the street, only to be offered candy and bananas by them later; after being self conscious, afraid, hopeless at my ability to travel; after making friends that will last a lifetime; after seeing the face of a child made happy by the simple act of Mischa blowing him a balloon, a child simply given the chance to be a child; after meeting some of the most beautiful--and lost--spirits I have encountered; After being greeted--by name--in the street by vendors in a town I had only spent 3 days in; after swinging ever back and forth between missing home and never wanting to leave; after not understanding a word around me; after dirty streets, jeering stares, beautiful women and a million "yes please madam's," mai kusi hu.
I am happy. I wouldn't have done India any other way.
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