India

Just like so many places where I've chosen to travel, almost everything that everyone told me about India was "veddy, veddy" incorrect. Far from a nation of squalor, here a woman can twist a piece of cloth around her in various ways and then carry herself with unimaginable elegance. The only danger I felt was when "the male elephant came down from the forest." And I can't think of an easier place to travel, where English is widely spoken, professional drivers who call you "madam" are available for hire, and the most incredible meal of your life costs $1.50.

Perhaps it was because mine was a South Indian experience. Some day I'll see the palaces of Rajasthan and the Taj Mahal, but I was more interested in sneaking onto a Bollywood film set in Mumbai, visiting the children of Om Creations Trust, and touring the world's greatest outdoor laundromat at Dhobi Ghat. Later I headed for designer Jivvi Sethi's pad in Goa, witnessed a boisterous temple festival and the Chinese fishing nets of Fort Kochi, then traveled inland to the tea plantations of Munnar, where I woke up before dawn each morning to hear the curious sound of the malabar whistling thrush.

India is loud, colorful, and exotic beyond measure.  And while it is still poor, it bristles with intensity and big dreams. By spending our rupees there, we help in our own tiny way to make those dreams come true.

Here’s my photo essay on India.