Belonging_Story

No one belongs here more than you. They smelt India before they saw India, a distinct smell of perspiration mixed with odd spices that stayed in the nose whether you liked it or not. But as soon as they opened their eyes, the fast paced action of their holiday destination blurred their sight. Within the space of minutes, forty six year old Rodney and Rebecca Pewter saw an elephant with what appeared to be a ragged Persian carpet and a mini tarp situated on its back travelling the main road out from the airport. The grey mass stood out from a highway covered in mainly older cars like a solid coat of paint, you couldn’t see any tarmac at all. It was a wonder anyone could drive or even be bothered to drive because everyone seemed to be exercising their horns rather than the pedal. Rooted straight to the ground, looking utterly bewildered, Rebecca Pewter began to feel a lump of anxiety slowly creep up from the pits of her stomach to her throat. Travelling internationally for the first time, the Pewters only began to realize just how different the world could be. Just before Rebecca Pewter was about to protest against the trip, a smiling young twenty something Indian man dressed in a khaki uniform with a name card marked with ‘Pewter’ tapped Rodney Pewter on the shoulder. He was to be their Indian travel host and in broken and accented English indicated that their tour bus was just on the right and is waiting for them. Rebecca felt her sense of unease dropped when the young man spoke English but still clutched at her husband’s arm in fear of being accidentally lost in the mob of people. Their Indian travel host walked down the narrow bus aisle very quickly, stopping at each row of seats handing two or three pamphlets with a seller’s smile. Large, comforting and his dark brown skin really showed off his creamy white teeth. Both Pewters thanked him politely and very softly, before looking down at their red and white pamphlet. ‘The Real India Travel Co’ was emblazoned on the front, above the list of itineraries. Elephant riding, traditional Indian dancing, market shopping and sightseeing were all included in the list. It really appeared that in the two weeks they had, the Pewters would really be able to experience what they described as ‘the real India’. The two Australian couple thoroughly enjoyed themselves; the animals were all so amusing and performed the most absurd tricks. Monkeys wrote messages such as ‘happy birthday’ or ‘have fun in India’ and elephants took you from point A to point B with in a relaxing swaying motion. The marketplace had been a very upscale department store with the latest international, mainly European fashions and here Rebecca Pewter really enjoyed herself. The sightseeing was very enjoyable and they had seen young Indian boys and young Indian girls dance the most delightful and colorful dance where the beat was created with the many bangles with decorated the dainty arms of the girls with quite impressive bursts of acrobatics from the boys. It was part of a fifteen minute traditional routine and their Indian host smilingly explained to them it was a welcoming dance. They reflected their past two weeks as the tour bus, was heading towards the airport and the host recommended that they draw the curtains and gather some sleep as the bus trip would exceed three hours. They drew the curtain just before the bus trip entered one the hundreds of slums which existed throughout India. They had not seen the streets where rivers of sewerage openly flowed past the homes of millions. The Pewters had stayed in of course the Indian Hilton hotel branch where they enjoyed an English breakfast, English high tea and a choice of a Western or a Europeanized Indian menu for dinner. Rodney and Rebecca hadn’t noticed the young boys and girls’ fake smiles and protruding bones disappear into a small van quickly shuttled to an illegal prison where the young dancers were kept, which was all owned by the travel company. The dance was traditionally a two hour dance spectacle which had been cut and edited until it was a short fifteen minute acrobatics show to ensure the tourists enjoyed themselves. India had really bent over backwards to ensure that Pewters enjoyed the ‘real India’. In this India, no one felt more welcome here more than foreigners. There was no room for the millions of poor shackled to the slums. As they reached the airport, the smiling host assured them that they were always welcome back to India and the Pewters went back home having travelled to India and seeing nothing of it.