I just met Doris, an adorable German woman in her early forties. And once again I’ve got Cafe Coffee Day, India’s favorite new coffee chain, to thank. Every day I come here, sit in the same cushy red chair that faces the window, and write to the sweet sounds of good old American top-forty. As I sip on my mocha and watch Indian children press their faces against the window and stare at me and my laptop like I’m the first sign of water they’ve seen in a hundred miles, I almost feel bad. Mostly because I wish I had ordered the “chocofrappe” but also because I’m in here, surrounded by flat-screen TVs and air conditioning. 

 But here’s the thing. India is this incredible place, where the general rules of society don’t apply. There is no such thing as personal space and anyone and everyone is welcome to dinner whenever they happen by. I can’t walk ten feet without being asked where I’m from, what brought me here, or if I will take a picture with someone’s child. This is both completely inspiring and totally exhausting, especially for an American like myself. We love personal space and rarely get past social pleasantries on the first meet. 

 Also, despite the fact that the Indian sense of humor is surprisingly American, the language barrier makes it a strenuous process. It usually starts out ok but quickly becomes a whole lot of polite nods and gauged laughter. And because they have no concept of “faking it” in a social situation, it isn’t long before the jig is up, and you’re left backpedaling, trying your best to not seem crazy. Eventually you learn to stick to simple subjects and rehearsed responses, which is even worse.  

 So here I sit, where I know that the only people that are going to walk through that door are English-speaking tourists, expats, and the occasional upper-class Indian family. There are plenty of them out there and at least one of them is going to think I’m funny. Today it was Doris, who not only spoke English but without a trace of an accent. We discussed spiritual commercialism, her bourgeoning relationship with a local, and the complexities of casual sex in a conservative country. Turns out, she used to be married to a woman and now she’s trying her hand at men. There’s a poster beside my table that reads, “If these walls could talk, they would join your conversations.” Boy, would they ever! And I’ll bet they would laugh. 

 The truth is, the best thing about India is its proximity to real life. But you gotta ease into it. The more pressure you put on yourself to not be a tourist, the more frustrated you will be by the fact that you are one. India is all about going with the flow, and when you do, you’ll leave with a new perspective on life, and whole bunch of new friends.