Jaipur _DSC3545

India mimics the rhythms of the ocean. At times, it’s benign, lapping gentle waves at your feet, tickling your toes. Then there are the trying moments, a violent storm that slams your body, jarring nerves to the brink when you drop any social veneer and gulp heaps of utter shock.

Friends warned me. I prepared myself, reading Wanderlust and Lipstick’s Guide for Women Traveling to India, Beth Whitman’s excellent guide.

Still, there’s reality. Physical encounters are obvious, but what about the internal inputs?  As you absorb the logic or chaos of India, it can be daunting to a solo explorer, especially a lone female.

Reality is nothing to fear when armed with practical information.

1.  The Staring

I can confirm, you will be stared at. Walking down the street. In a restaurant. Standing in the ATM line. It won’t be a glance of mild interest, and then they look away. There’s a focused intensity as people rake their eyes up and down, examining every detail of your being. Sometimes I look down at myself to ensure everything that should be covered, is. Not every person you encounter will do this, but it will occur frequently. India is not like Europe, where travelers blend in, often ignored by the general public.

Tip: Many worry a man’s attention will be followed by an unseemly proposition. While some ladies might invite this, others don’t. Much of the staring is simply curiosity.  Some locals have never seen a foreigner before, so they are intrigued. Eventually you notice that women stare as often as men. This can be unnerving, but try to remember that while you are excited and fascinated by India, her people feel the same about you.

  • Continue your errands like you would back home, with a calm eye and soon enough you feel the same.
  • Make eye contact and smile, as suggested in Johnny Vagabond’s post on Real World Travel Tips. This can shatter that weird barrier, opening the door to conversation. Warning: be friendly, but restrained with males. It’s sad, but familiarity could be misconstrued. If it’s someone I’ll see more than once, my friendly meter goes up.

2.  The Heckling

During my volunteer work, I got the chance to visit Hyderbaad, the capital city in Andhra Pradesh. One day Roxanne (fellow intern) and I ventured into the city towards an area called Mehdi Patnam to use the Internet and do some shopping. As we walked, odd reactions began to emerge. I said ‘thank you’ to someone giving us directions and heard my voice fed back to me from a group close by – “Thank youuuuu!!!”  I didn’t turn to see who the culprit was.  After Internet, we went on search for a salwar.  In the course of swapping stories I laughed — you know– my laugh. We passed a cluster of guys and one of them imitated me.   I had no idea I sounded like a hyena. It was mockery, clearly. It felt like grade school all over again.

Tip: I began to wonder if I have an annoying voice or a stupid laugh. Bottomline: don’t visit India if you have shitty self-esteem.  Nah, scratch that. Don’t take it personally. I attribute this tip to Roxanne. She aptly said if some Indians haven’t encountered many foreigners, they often engage in strange ways. Ways that are not always conducive to an equal dialogue. I also chalked it up to the Indian sense of humor. Self-deprecating humor is widely broadcast in comedy serials and films. It certainly can be interesting when your mannerisms are echoed from an outsider.

  • If this happens, ignore it and walk on.
  • Resist the urge to be rude, telling someone off feels satisfactory at the time, but later you might regret it.
  • Attempt a conversation; it may be they want you to notice them.

3.  It’s Okay to be a Feminist

Long ques are notorious in India. While I’m growing at an astounding rate as a human being, holding more love in my heart than hate, one thing I can’t stand is long, pointless lines. The second thing I can’t stand is when you nearly reach a train ticket window, and a guy with 5 ticket requests tries to boldly cut in front when you clearly have 1 request to his 5. That’s the point when I stick my elbow in his ribs and loudly say, “Heyyyy, the line is back there!!” This is controversial when the bulk of the line is composed of men. He waved his requests at me, barking in Telugu, indicating his needs were far greater than mine. After standing 40 minutes in line, I was having none of this. I firmly said in English, “I. Don’t. Care. The line is there.” I wasn’t the only one agitated; a few locals had a word or two with the interloper. Amid the bedlam of jockeying to purchase their train tickets, I managed to break my fist through, request crumpled, but victory at my heels. The pushy man had to wait.

Tip: I’m not suggesting you rally Indian women to burn their saris and strike against domestic life, just keep in mind it’s acceptable to be assertive.

  • Don’t be afraid to speak up, sistah. Especially when it comes to fairness or safety.
  • Do know when to though, not every situation calls for female empowerment.
  • Be firm with touts or beggars. If you wish to help the mitigating poverty issue in India, visit a charity, there is a range of organizations that could use donations or extra hands.
  • Squabbling over a few pennies for an auto-rickshaw may be pushing it, but shaming a sexual harasser is more than okay.

4.  Am I Invisible?

Solo women do partner up for short periods of time, and sometimes with a male friend.  When you encounter locals, you will notice a bizarre occurrence.  A local of the male persuasion will only speak to your friend.  Not you.  Ever.  The local will even talk about you, never addressing a question to you directly.  It’s tempting to start river dancing or picking your nose to see if you really are immaterial.

Tip: An integral piece to India’s personality is propriety.  What seems misogynist is actually intended to protect your reputation.  Gender interaction rarely happens, except between schoolmates, co-workers, relatives, wives and husbands.  Typically, unmarried men do not mingle with unmarried women.  Even with a rising middle class and softening mores, gender roles are fairly rigid, have been for hundreds of years.

  • Instead of fuming, take these moments to be the observer.  It’s like overhearing a conversation. And how many times have we done that with mischievous glee?
  • Bear this with patience and show equal amounts of respect.

5.  The Incessant Questions

Some days I want to hurl a cow patty if another person asks if I’m married. I’m beginning to invent creative answers in my head. No, I like women. No, I am a man inside, not outside. You get the picture. I refrain from uttering my secret thoughts, but ooh, it’s tempting. Usually you’re asked at the most inopportune times; on the rumbling train when your nose is clearly buried in a book or when you’re marching through a village with a swelling group of excitable children on Republic Day.

Tip: Questions about family and marital status are not exclusive to travelers. Indians also ask each other the same questions. A hangover from the caste era, knowing your family origins and marital status paints a picture of your socio-economic background. Even something as innocuous as a name carries meaning.

  • It can feel hollow answering the same questions, but try to view it as an icebreaker to deeper interaction.
  • Have fun with the answers, though not the ones I provided above.
  • It’s not impolite to ask the same questions in return.
  • If you’re a private person, this may be difficult, but inch by inch attempt transparency rather than secrecy.

6.  Safety

Complete strangers have stopped their motorbike and offered me a ride into town. I politely declined. I’ve had invitations to visit temples or come by for dinner. Some I’ve eagerly agreed to; others were dismissed. My couchsurfing email account filled with males from Mumbai offering to show me the ‘sights’ or ‘hey, let’s grab a coffee’.

Tip: Intuition is your savior. Use it wisely; use it well. Then, have some serious fun. Not every invitation is a pre-curser to assault. Be open, but aware. In Mumbai, I repeatedly saw foreigners in mini-skirts. Let me reiterate propriety. Perceptions are everything in India. You have a right to wear what you want, but you’ve come to explore, learn and receive. Part of this process is allowing others to feel comfortable engaging with you. When you combine halter tops with sparse gender contact, that’s shaky ground.

  • Don’t leave a drink unattended, even water.
  • Don’t drink copious amounts of alcohol unless you’re superhuman and extremely sharp when inebriated.
  • Pack a rubber doorstop for your hotel door, a small can of pepper spray, and a whistle. I attached a whistle to my key chain, so I know where it is at all times.
  • Cover legs and shoulders. Bare arms are acceptable.
  • Refrain from plunging necklines or overly tight clothing.
  • Wear long skirts. You can buy some cute ones in markets and they offer air for your lady bits.
  • Use shawls or scarves for warmth and coverage. Sometimes I wrap a scarf around my head.
  • Go full bore and purchase a sari or a salwar kameez, two traditional outfits Indian women wear daily.

I’m not fearless and worry like anyone about my safety. Each state in India has a regional language, but most Indians speak at least 2 languages. Hindi is the national language and is mandatory in schools.

  • Scream the word ‘fire’ over and over again.  Hindi: “Aag!!”

Extreme case only, but I’ve often pondered what I might say if assault was imminent.

  • Hindi: “Mujhe AIDS hain, tumhara gand gir jayega!”  Translation: “I have AIDS, your penis will fall off!”

7.  Isolation

Harsh sun pierced the delicate membrane of my retinas. Trickles of sweat poured down my back, along the sides of my temple. Throngs of hawkers bellowed from their stalls, singing the praises of their products. “Brinjal! Fresh!” “Grapes!” Their eyes dart to me, eagerly seeking a potential sale with a firangi. Men in pressed shirts with laptop bags push by me. Delicately beautiful women bursting in jewel toned saris stare, sometimes smile at me. Cows trudge alongside, methodical with laziness and power.  They know their revered position and flaunt it. Stray dogs with matted fur and a permanent itch run towards me,  hankering for a pet or scrap of food. A child shyly touches my leg, awed by this alien woman in their sights. Instead of diving in, I want to shrink, be small and insignificant. With over a billion people and animals to engage with, why do I feel so alone sometimes?

Tip: What you’re feeling is not loneliness, but a craving for the familiar.

  • Find a respite from the staggering visual inputs. Whether it’s an hour in your hotel room, a nap, or a cool drink followed by a tasty meal. I often hiked to a nearby lake while volunteering, grabbing a few minutes of quiet. Little moments will add up to overall well-being.
  • Keep in contact with friends and family. I often like to hear the events in their lives, it keeps me connected to them.
  • Write your honest thoughts in a travel journal. Expelling negative feelings is the best way to gain a new perspective.

Solo Girl, India Isn’t All Bad

Hopefully you haven’t turned off your computer in disgust with India. For all the idiosyncratic instances that have happened to me, there were innumerable acts of kindness and generosity. I’ve been helped with directions, had my bag carried as I got on a rickshaw, and friendly strangers have welcomed me to their country.

What I hope this guide does is strengthen your understanding of this puzzling, beautiful country. Like the ocean, we are fearful of its tremendous power, yet we still break into a run to be enveloped by an arcing wave, reveling in the roar and exhilaration without resistance. Treat India the same.

Photo: DograExposures