I don’t know what all the guidebooks mean when they say you can’t prepare yourself for India, that it won’t be at all what you think.
It’s exactly like I thought it would be.
Not that I expected I would leave behind the baggie with my underwear in it and have to buy six pairs from a man on the street in Kathmandu, or that I’d be groped by a female Nepalese masseuse, or that Maoist revelers would climb on top of our bus on the way to Lumbini from Kathmandu. Which was awesome, except that’s where our backpacks were.
Oh, wait, none of that was in India. Yesterday, the first day in India, was a little chaotic. Involving waiting 2 hours for our ride from the border to Buddha’s deathplace. And having our driver forget to pull over with the other cars in our group for lunch. But I did enjoying peeing on Buddha’s grave. Or near it anyway. Much prefer peeing al fresco than to smell the squat toilets.