Backpacker

I've taken some creative liberties in writing this story, but I hope you enjoy it!

 

I’ve always loved traveling. Ever since I was little, I’ve traveled to many places with my family, both here in the United States and to other countries. My parents always made an effort to learn about the culture of the places we visited, trying to find out more about their customs, their festivals, their religion, and how they behave.

But over the past five years, my parents stopped traveling, they were getting older and needed some time to rest, but I still felt that urge to visit more places and learn about their cultures.

So one day, while I was hiking with one of my best friends, we started talking about it, and I asked her which country I could visit next.

But first, let me introduce myself. My name is Aubrey, I’m 28 years old, and I used to work as a climbing instructor. You could say I was a pretty girl, with long auburn hair cut in layers that reached past the middle of my back with some curtain bangs, green eyes and a fit body thanks to my job. Not muscular, but definitely in good shape. Lots of guys tried to hit on me, but I wasn’t interested in them, the only thing that mattered to me now was finding my next adventure.

– I don’t know what my next adventure will be, Sally. I’ve already traveled to most of the places and countries that interested me. Do you have any suggestions? – I asked her –

– Well, I know you’ve traveled a lot and visited almost every country in Europe and the Americas, so I guess you could go to Asia now.”

-Yes, I’ve traveled a lot -I said with a laugh – But Asia… I don’t know, I’m not sure which country to visit. I’ve already been to Japan and China, and the rest of the countries don’t interest me much.

-What about India? They have a very rich culture, and I’ve heard there are many temples and iconic sites to visit. I know you always try to learn about the culture and customs of the country you’re visiting, so… I think it would be a good country for you to visit.

-Oh, India? Do you think it would be a good place to visit?

-Well, I’ve never been there, Aubrey, but I think you’d like it, and if you don’t, just don’t go back, it’s that simple.

-Okay, I trust you, Sally, – I said cheerfully.-  As soon as I get home, I’ll look it up online to see if I can make up my mind.

For the rest of the day we kept our hiking adventure until we finished the trail and came back to the parking lot to start driving to the city.

Once I dropped Sally off at her house, I headed home. When I got there, the first thing I did was take a shower. After I finished, I put on my pajamas, turned on the computer, and searched for India on the browser. I was tired from today’s little outing, but I was eager to look up some information to see what the place was like.

Sally was right; there were some beautiful places, especially the temples and the nature surrounding them.

 

-Hmm, okay. Maybe I’ll go to India.

 

So I started looking for plane tickets to see how long the flight was and how much it cost.

 

-Wow, a thousand dollars. Okay, a little expensive, but I think I can afford it.

 

All I needed now was to coordinate my vacation with the trip, and everything would be set.

 

*THREE MONTHS LATER

I was already on vacation and had bought my plane ticket a month earlier, so the only thing left for me to do was pack: comfortable clothes, underwear, a pair of walking shoes, my visa, my passport, and not much else. When I traveled, I didn’t do it the usual way of staying in hotels or booking tourist packages, I liked to go on my own, exploring small towns and staying in hostels or guesthouses. You could say I’m an adventurer.

The day finally arrived, and I was in a taxi on my way to the airport, very excited to see what awaited me on my new adventure.

 

*FOURTEEN HOURS LATER

After a long fourteen-hour flight, I was finally in India, and my goodness, it was hot. I never imagined it would be this hot here in the summer. I checked my phone, and it read 104°F or 40°C.

But now I had to start looking for a place to stay for the first few days, since I’d done some research on places to visit. I always tried to avoid big cities and, instead, preferred to visit small towns or villages.

But for now, I would stay in the capital for two days and then begin my journey through India, in search of a new adventure and places to visit. After an hour of looking for a place to stay, I finally found a small hostel in a very old neighborhood of the city. The buildings were old, in poor condition, and the streets were dirty, but it was cheap. 

I stayed there for the next two days. In the meantime, I visited some of the city’s famous sights, parks, and monuments, and walked to all of them with my hiking backpack always on my back. I loved walking, but the heat was becoming unbearable. So, starting on the first day, I tied my long hair back in a ponytail and kept it that way the whole time, hoping it would help me feel a little cooler, but I was still sweating a lot, and it was becoming quite uncomfortable.

Once the first two days had passed, it was time to explore new places, so I hailed a taxi and headed to the nearest train station. My journey would begin there. I would travel three hours by train and then start visiting town after town, observing and admiring the sights and immersing myself in their culture.

When I arrived at the station, I went to the ticket window and bought a ticket to the southern part of the country. I knew it would be a long trip, so before boarding the train, I bought a book about Indian culture at a nearby store so I could read it while on the train. 

The three hour train ride was bearable, though not particularly comfortable due to the seats and the heat inside the train. As expected, the train didn’t have air conditioning, and I started sweating profusely again, but I was able to rest a bit and began reading the book I had bought.

And then the train finally arrived at my destination, a town south of the capital, surrounded by countryside. It was a small town by Indian standards, perhaps 10,000 to 15,000 people lived there, but now I needed to find a place to spend the night. It was already 5 p.m., and I was a little tired and reeked of sweat, so a shower would do me a world of good. So I started wandering around town until I finally found another hostel. 

-Great, let’s try this place, I’m dying to take a shower.

 

So I opened the door and went into the hostel.

 

-Hello? Is anyone there? I’m looking for a place to stay for the night.

 

Suddenly, an old man came out through a door behind the counter and started speaking to me in Hindi. As much as I would have liked to, I didn’t speak his language. Then he called out to someone else, and a younger man came out through that same door. This time it was a guy my age, maybe a little older.

 

-Hello, miss, are you looking for a room to stay in? – The young man said –

 

What a relief that this guy spoke English.

 

-Yes, please, do you have any available? I’d really love to take a shower and get some rest, is that possible?

-Yes, miss, we have two available.

 

-Perfect, give me one, please.

 

Then he gave me the room key, and I paid for that night.

-We’ll be serving dinner at 7 p.m. in the dining room, in case you’d like to eat something, miss.

-Oh, that would be great, thank you.

 

And with that, I started looking for my room, and after a couple of minutes, I found it. The room was very modest, but it would be enough to spend the night. I set my backpack on the bed and opened it, looking for clean clothes and underwear. Then I undressed and stepped into the shower. The cold water felt wonderful on my skin, and with that, I started lathering my body with shower gel. I also washed my hair, since it was pretty dirty from sweat. Finally, I went to shave, but that’s when I realized I’d completely forgotten to bring razors to shave my armpits. It had been at least a week since the last time I’d shaved my armpits, so short hairs had started to grow back. Well, nobody knew me here, so I didn’t think people would care about a little body hair.

Once I finished showering, I stepped out, dried myself with a towel and put on clean clothes. I’d left my hair damp, so it would help me a bit overcome the heat, it would be dry in less than an hour anyway. I stayed in the room looking at Instagram on my phone, and reading the book until it was dinner time, then I left the room and went to the dining room to eat something, I was very hungry.

The next day arrived, so I got out of bed and put on the same clothes I’d worn the night before: a gray tank top, athletic leggings, and running shoes—the kind made for walking long distances. I gathered all my things, packed them into my backpack, and left the room. I went down to the lobby to return the room key to the guy who had given it to me the day before, and there he was, behind the counter.

 

-Here you go, thanks for dinner and for the room – I said.- 

-You’re welcome, miss.

-One more thing, I was wondering if you could tell me where the nearest temple is. As you can see, I’m here on vacation and I’m backpacking, looking for places to explore and admire. Is it very far from here?

-Well, the nearest temple is the Tirumala Temple, about a 45-minute drive from this town.

-Okay, thank you so much for everything. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.

 

And with that, I left the hostel and headed to the temple. It was very early in the morning, but it would take me at least 10 hours of constant walking, and in this heat, it wouldn’t be easy at all. So I decided to take a bus to the nearest town and, from there, continue on foot. 

The bus was absolutely packed, but the ride only took about 15 minutes, so overall, it wasn’t too bad. Once again, I tied my hair back in a ponytail because the heat inside was unbearable. Finally, the bus arrived at my destination. Now I’d have to walk “only” about eight more hours, but I was there precisely to have an experience like this, so I started walking, looking for any signs and following the main street. This town was even smaller than the one where I’d spent the previous day. The streets were barely paved, and the buildings were two or three stories tall, but they were in very poor condition. So I kept walking until I saw a sign: “Tirumala Temple, 20 miles in the direction I was heading.” 

-Okay, before leaving town, it would be a good idea to buy something to eat for the road, and a couple of bottles of water would come in handy too.

 

So, now that I knew which way to go to get to the temple, I started looking for a supermarket or somewhere that sold food and water. After wandering around the small town for about twenty minutes, I finally found what I was looking for. Well, sort of. It was a small grocery store, inside a house. I opened the door and went in. Once inside, I bought what I needed: a couple of bottles of water and some food to go.

 

-Perfect, I think I have everything I need to cover those 20 miles.

 

I set off again toward the main street until I found the sign I’d seen earlier and followed that road. The first hour of walking wasn’t too hard, it was still early in the morning, so it wasn’t as hot as I’d expected, but I was still starting to sweat a little. I had to pick up the pace a bit so I wouldn’t be caught in the middle of the day, because that’s when it would really get hot. After another hour, I was starting to get tired, and of course, the heat was rising, so I decided to stop and rest for a while at the next inhabited place I came across. So I walked the last four miles until I reached the next town. Well, it looked more like a village. There were maybe ten streets at most, and only the main one was paved.

It was almost noon, so I looked for a place to grab a bite to eat, and the only one there was a small stand on the main street. So I headed over there and bought something to eat and rested a bit. I’d continue with the few miles I had left later. Suddenly, something caught my eye, it looked like a small hair salon, though it wasn’t exactly that, it was actually a very small barbershop.

-I have to do something about this hair, it’s been bothering me every day since I got here. Maybe they can trim it a bit, maybe to shoulder length.

 

So, after finishing my meal, I got up and headed toward the barbershop. It was a very small building with no door; it looked more like a converted garage than a shop. The walls were painted a dull orange, and the only things inside were a very old black barber’s chair, a large mirror with a crack in one corner, and a plastic waiting chair. There was nothing else, because there simply wasn’t room for anything else. But before I went in, a small sign caught my eye, however it was in Hindi, so I took out my phone and snapped a photo so the online AI could translate it. The sign said they offered haircuts to donate the hair to the nearby temple, the very same one I was heading to. Then I walked inside.

-Excuse me, sir, do you happen to speak any English, even just a little?

 

The barber was a middle-aged man, perhaps between 40 and 50 years old.

-Hello, miss, I speak a little English.You want to cut hair?

 

-Well, yes, I was wondering if you could trim it for me, maybe to shoulder length –that would mean cutting off half my hair, by the way – the heat is becoming unbearable, and I saw the sign outside, so I thought I could donate it since I’m going to cut it anyway. Is there any chance you could do that, please?

-Donation to the temple yes, sit and I cut for donation – he said in a very basic english –

 

-Thanks, I need to get my hair trimmed a bit or I’m going to lose my mind.

 

With that, I left my backpack on the empty chair there and sat down in that old barber’s chair. I had never sat in one of those before, since they don’t have them at the hair salon where I usually get my hair cut. I must say it was more comfortable than I expected. Once I was in the chair, the barber placed a white towel over my shoulders, covering my neck from the front, and then draped me in what looked like an orange bedsheet, not the usual cape I’d expected, I suppose resources were limited in this place.

Then he took the hair tie out of my hair, and it came loose, falling behind the chair. Next, the barber picked up a comb and started combing my hair several times until he decided it was neat enough to start cutting it. And he was right, because he set the comb down on the wooden counter where he kept all his tools and then picked up the scissors, but they weren’t barber’s scissors, they were bigger and a little rusty, and looked more like the kind used to cut fabric. He then turned the chair, so now facing the street, I could no longer see myself in the mirror. Then he pulled my hair back and began cutting it just above my shoulders. I could hear the sound of the scissors as he cut my hair dry. That loud crunching sound wasn’t very pleasant to hear, especially for a girl, but after all, it was what I had asked for. He kept opening and closing the scissors, cutting the makeshift ponytail he had made at the base of my neck, until finally the ponytail was separated from the rest of my hair. At that moment, my head felt lighter.

– Here miss, the hair for donation. I’ll put a tie and put it in your backpack – He said holding my cut hair in front of me. –

 

-Okay, but I think you cut it a little shorter than I expected.

 

Now I had an uneven bob and my hair barely reached my shoulders, it was about an inch shorter than I’d expected. Once the barber left my severed ponytail on the top of my back pack he walked towards the counter again and picked the comb once again and started to comb the rest of my hair, making sure it was perfectly combed. Again. I thought he would even cut now, leaving it on a bob, if he even knew what that even was.

 

-Okay miss, I now finish the cut for temple donation and gods.

 

-Okay – I said – 

 

He set the comb down on the counter and picked up what I thought were a pair of scissors. Then he placed his hand on my head and pushed it down, so that my head was facing my lap, my chin almost touching my breasts. And then I felt something cold on the back of my neck. Suddenly, I heard the sound of some kind of device opening and closing,  – click* click* click* – not very fast, but at a steady rhythm. It felt as if something was chewing on my hair. That’s when I realized he was shaving my head.

-WHAT ARE YOU DOING? – I said as I pulled my head away from that thing. –

-I finish the cut for the donation, miss. What is wrong?

-Are you shaving my head? What the hell?

-Yes, miss, that is the tradition.

 

At that moment, I saw what the hairdresser was holding: manual clippers. I’d never seen one of those in my life, and now they were shaving me with it. So I reached back and touched the shaved part, it went from the nape of my neck to the middle of the back of my head and was shaved almost to the scalp. I turned and looked at the floor, and there it was: my hair, a considerable amount of it. And then I started crying. The barber didn’t know what to do.

-What now? – I said between sobs.-

-I’m sorry miss, but I need to finish the cut, I can’t leave it like this.

 

Then he stood behind me, placed his hand on my head, forcing me to bend forward, and continued cutting. The process was slow, since the manual clippers struggled shaving my head. There I was, getting my head shaved with a manual clipper, pass after pass, I could feel that thing moving through my hair, cutting it. The sound was horrible, every time the blades closed, I could hear them cutting the hair they touched. A lot of hair started falling onto my shoulders as he shaved the back of my head. The process was very humiliating, very mechanical. A slow pass up to the crown, then another, and another… until there wasn’t a single hair left on the back of my head. All of this while tears streamed down my cheeks.

Next, he moved to my left side, pushed my head to the right, placed the manual clippers on my sideburn, and made the first pass, opening and closing that thing as more hair began to fall onto the sheet, and then onto the floor. He repeated the process on the left side: one slow pass, then another right next to my ear, and finally one behind my left ear. The sheet was now a mess,  a lot of hair had accumulated on my lap, some hair was falling onto the footrest and the floor, but most of it was on my lap, and I was watching the pile grow with every pass the barber made. I could see my hair sliding across the sheet until it joined the pile that was already there.

Once he was done with the left side, he straightened my head so I was now facing the street. It must have been quite a sight for any passerby to see a white foreign girl having her hair shaved off like that at a barbershop in India while she was crying, but luckily for me, no one crossed the street at that moment.. But then I realized he was going to shave the top of my head next, starting with my nice bangs, and that’s exactly what he did: he placed the manual clippers in the center of my forehead and began pushing backward, shaving the center of my head. I could feel the hair from my bangs falling onto my face and finally joining the hair on my lap. He kept making passes over the top of my head until all my hair was shaved off again. Finally, he moved to the right side, pushed my head to the left, and repeated the same process as on the left side. I really didn’t like the noise the manual clipper made while he was shaving me, it was very unpleasant.

 

-Done miss, I’m sorry about misunderstand 

 

He set the manual clippers down on the counter and then swiveled the chair back to its original position. Now it was facing the mirror, and I saw my reflection for the first time. It was horrible. I was almost bald. I didn’t have a single long strand of hair left on my head. You could see the skin beneath the little hair I had left. Then my eyes welled up again, and I started crying once more.

Then the barber picked up the feather duster and began to remove the short hairs I had on my neck and face. Next, he put his hands on the back of the sheet and began to pull it off me. That’s when all the hair on top started to slide off and fell directly to the left side of the chair, creating a pile of auburn hair in that spot in the barbershop. 

 

-I’m sorry miss –  he said to me again –  don’t pay me for the inconvenience.

 

So I got up, grabbed my backpack and my ponytail, and ran out of the hair salon.

I walked for about five minutes until I sat down on a bench and started crying. I never thought I’d end up shaved on this trip, but in a way, this is an example of how to get to know their culture better, a way of experiencing it that I never would have imagined.

I sat on the bench for the next twenty minutes, wavering between continuing on to the temple and turning back, but in the end I made up my mind. After everything that had happened at that barbershop, I had to finish what I’d started. So I got up and set off again. I only had an hour left before reaching the temple, so I picked up the pace to get there as soon as possible.

And there it was, the temple stood before my eyes, but there was one small problem: the temple was on a hill, so I had to climb about a thousand steps. I was already tired from walking all day, but I got down to business and started climbing the steps. 

-Shit man, why did I think this was a good idea? C’mon, I’m already there.

I finally reached the summit after about fifteen minutes of climbing, and the first thing I saw was a huge open space, with the temple in all its splendor in the background. The temple was full of people, watching or waiting for something or someone. Then I saw a sign written in Hindi, I translated it, and it indicated where in the temple donations were being made. So I went where the sign pointed and entered the temple through a side room of the building.

Once inside, I found a large crowd waiting in line, while other people, both men and women, were performing a kind of ritual: shaving their heads. 

-They are gonna shave my head? Is it necessary? I just want to donate my ponytail and leave.

 

So I stood in line until it was my turn. There was a man directing people to where they needed to go to start the donation. Once I was at the front of the line, the man motioned for me to follow him and led me to a woman who looked like a nun, sitting on a small stool. Once I was in front of her, the man returned to his post and the nun motioned for me to kneel before her.

 

-I’m sorry, ma’am – she probably wasn’t even understanding me – I just want to donate this – I said, holding up my cut ponytail –

 

But she kept pointing for me to kneel. So I figured my ponytail wasn’t enough for the donation and the ritual. So finally I knelt in front of her, she placed a small sheet over my legs and a basin in front of my knees. Then she placed her hand on my shaved head and made me look down at the floor. That’s when she used another basin to wet my entire head. Then, without me realizing it, she quickly grabbed a razor and began shaving off the little hair I had left, starting from the crown of my head. The sensation was very unpleasant, I could feel the razor scratching my scalp, and I really didn’t like the noise it made as she shaved my head.

But there I was, watching as tiny wet hairs fell onto the white sheet. With every pass she made, more hair fell out. I have to say that the nun wasn’t the most careful person in the world, the shaving was going very quickly. 

I felt like an object or a prisoner with the little care she was showing, but I suppose that since she had to do it so many times a day, she didn’t have time to be careful.

After five minutes, she was done. She poured water on my head again to clean it and remove the wet hair that was stuck to my scalp, then took the sheet off me. Finally, she placed her hand on my chin, lifting my head, while with her other hand she placed her index finger on my forehead, leaving the distinctive red dot that many women wore.

My appearance at that moment must have been quite strange, a young white foreign girl with her entire head shaved and a red dot on her forehead. I never thought I’d get to this point, but here we are. So I got up, leaving my ponytail on the sheet, and walked out of that room. Once outside, I took some photos of the temple as a keepsake, and of course, of myself as well. I needed to see my face without any hair on my head. Obviously, it was a shock. I had never imagined myself bald, but since I had already seen myself with a shaved head thanks to that barber, I managed to hold back the tears and set off to walk down from the temple and return to the city, since my flight was leaving the next day. When I woke up this morning, I never imagined I’d end up getting shaved at a barbershop and then shaving my head completely bald at a sacred temple. It certainly wasn’t something I’d expected, but there was nothing I could do about it. So I took a train back to the city to bring this trip to an end.

 

*TWO DAYS LATER

 

I was finally home, exhausted and in no mood to go anywhere for the next year, at least until my hair grew out a bit. Before leaving India, I bought a cap so people wouldn’t notice I was bald. Even so, you could still see the shaved back and sides, but it worked more or less.

The next day I got a call from my friend Sally, the same one who had recommended this trip to me.

-Hi, Aubrey, are you home yet? – I asked her on the day I was due to arrive -. I want you to tell me how it went.

-Hi, Sally. Yeah, I’m home now. The trip was a little different than I expected. You could say I got a taste of their culture… Come over and I’ll show you.

-I’m really curious, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a flash.

 

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang. She had arrived. I walked over to the door and opened it, wearing a hoodie.

 

-Hi, Aubrey! How did it go? – She gave me a hug – And why are you wearing a hoodie inside?

-Come in, Sally. I’ll tell you. Or rather, I’ll show you.

 

So I closed the door behind her. 

-You know I try to learn a little about the culture of the countries I visit, you could say this time was no different, in fact it was even more intense.

-What are you talking about, Aubrey? What happened?

 

So, without hesitation, I pulled my hood off my head and showed her my bald head. She froze, staring at me without saying a word. That moment lasted at least half a minute until she finally spoke.

-What the actual fuck happened, Aubrey? What the hell? Why are you completely bald? Oh my fucking God.

-Well, you could say I got a taste of Hindu culture…

 

Then she burst out laughing.

-Oh, I see. I think I read somewhere about some of the religious things they do, like offering their hair to their gods, – she said, laughing – Well, at least it suits you pretty well. Tell me everything in detail please.