By: Jennelle Anderson

I stood awkwardly in a room with a small Indian woman, wondering if I need remove any of my clothing.
She held out a small loincloth.
I see.
Why not? We’re all friends here… now.

A traveller has two options in responding to the world around them. The first: anxiously refuse participation. The second: dive in.

And so I dove, into a long awaited ayurvedic massage I had heard so much about during my Indian travels. After watching me strip down, the masseuse… applied(?) the loincloth and sat me on a small stool. Pouring oil onto my head she went to it, scratching madly, fingers and hair whipping me wildly in the face. I tried not to burst out with laughter as I was obviously caught off guard by this bold and unexpected first move. It became harder to suppress giggles as the next technique involved was, and I’m being serious here, repeatedly limp-hand slapping my head and face. Had I not been receiving the same treatment, I would have sworn I heard my travel partner being slapped with fish in the room next to me.

Finally it was time to lay myself on the solid oak table. As madness of movement ensued, lips pursed tighter to keep my smile at bay, and openness of mind fought hard to find relaxation. I then discovered a new definition of “struggle”. That is, the scene that follows instructs me to turn over while lying exposed on a polished wooden surface drenched in oil. It is best not to try picturing it. All I could think about was how I would remove myself from said table without providing a show of naked acrobatics or sustaining serious slip and slide injuries. She at last laid down a final round of full body limp-hand slapping, and that was that. That was that… until she directed me to what I had thought was the linen cupboard and told me to climb inside. I then discovered an even fresher definition of “struggle”. That is, being loinclothed and stuffed into a small cupboard pumped full of hot steam during a sweltering Indian summer. Near death, I swear that my skin looked up at me pleadingly. This is our life now, I told it. This is what we are here for.

Ah, the different pairs of glasses that a traveller may wear! The risky part is that not all who choose lenses of acceptance and adventure will be met with such humorous outcomes. Not every experience will reward with a new appreciation of foreign ways, nor will discomfort always pale in comparison to gained understandings. At times the traveler looks into their weary reflection and asks to be reminded of what seemed so romantic about trotting the globe in the first place… But the world beckons us to take a chance; to get oiled up in a loincloth; to try our hand at something new and uncomfortable. And those who have fallen in love with travel know that there is only one way to respond: Dive in!