India Revisited 2025

By Mike Huber

I first went to India in May of 2005. I was about to graduate Boston University after 9 long years (the 9-year part will probably make for another interesting blog) and knew it was time for a well-deserved break. At this point of my life traveling abroad was new to me, and I thought India would make for an excellent adventure with all its beauty and intensity. This trip would also allow me to forego physically going to a boring graduation ceremony (even though it was my own).

I had NO idea what I was doing as it was one of my first trips abroad outside of the Army. Well, the best way to learn is by falling down and skinning your knees, and boy my knees got tore up this trip (I am sure my paratrooper mates will have some smart ass remarks on that line). It was to be a once in a lifetime adventure (well, twice in a lifetime now).

The trip didn’t start smoothly. As we landed in Trivandrum, the southernmost tip of the country, I was exhausted since I had been up for 30+ hours. It was late May and the weather was hot and humid. All I wanted to do was sleep in a hotel with air conditioning. Eventually, I got my wish and found a hotel room. As a foreigner I was required to list my friend who was staying with his family as a reference. The hotel was located in a tiny village that was very remote. My friend pulled me aside as I was checking into the hotel and said he would pick me up in the morning “Don’t do anything stupid” were his parting words that day. Tall order indeed, but I was wiped and figured that behaving wouldn’t be too difficult.

When I awoke after a solid nap I was hungry and thought I would go get some food. I left the hotel still woozy from the long journey but found a street cart with food. As I began eating, next to the food cart I noticed quite a traffic jam building up. It seemed I was causing the traffic jam with all the attention I was drawing. They had never seen a white American before. Cars were stopping to take pictures of me and numerous people approached to have conversations. After about an hour of talking and singing American music with them it was time for me to return to my room for some more rest.

The following morning my friend showed up mad as hell. “I told you not to do anything stupid.” I was perplexed as to what he was referring to. Well, turns out I drew so much attention that an Indian Government Agency (he stated it was the equivalent of the FBI) had called him asking who I was and what I was doing in this remote Indian village. It was more of a health and wellness check than anything, which I could fully appreciate.

After a week I parted ways with my friend and began traveling through northern India on my own. This was when I got my first solid hit of culture shock, and it hit me bigtime. Being alone and traveling through the bustling streets of Delhi, Agra (to see the Taj Ma Hal), and the Himalayan mountain town of Leh would prove to be a wakeup call that was clearly overdue. There were no cell phones or Google maps to navigate by during this trip. Add to that the intensity of Delhi traffic and just the overall controlled chaos that overwhelmed every sense and came from every direction possible (and some directions I didn’t even know existed). It was sensory overload to the point that one day I cancelled all my scheduled tours and stayed in my hotel with the blinds down. It was that level of intensity just outside my hotel room. The mix of culture shock and wandering through these places alone made for anxiety I had never felt before. By the time I was packing to leave I felt as though this country had overwhelmed me so much that I was questioning my confidence in traveling.

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