I always dreamed of going to India. I imagined it to be the kind of place with so much magic and spirit that would be hard to put into words- a place you can only experience, see, smell, hear. I was right. My experience in India was so special I spent 2 months here and still feel as though I haven't seen any of it yet. My first stop after New Delhi, where I was hosted by a wonderful woman I met off a womans traveling group, I was off to go to Jodhpur to celebrate Holi. Holi, or "the festival of colors" signifies the victory of good over evil. It was truly one of the most beautiful days of my life- everywhere I went there were people singing, dancing, and rubbing color on my cheeks. Several days after Holi ended I wandered the streets with my traveler friends and we were given so much kindness. Strangers would peek their heads outside of the windows and invite us in to show us their homes. I will never forget the hospitality I was given there, and can't wait to return to this enchanting blue city.

Varanasi. This city is something that has to be felt it almost feels like it's doing it a disservice to write- but I'll try my best. The holy ganges river runs through the city. Between cows in the road causing traffic jams and the smell of corpses burning on the ganga, Varanasi is no place for the weak. Life and death play games with one another here as they're so close to one another. On one ghat next to the river (think of it as a station) there would be people bathing themselves in what is believed to be a holy river, while just next to them dead bodies burn and others are put into the river wrapped in rocks so they sink to the bottom. There is a spirit that intertwines itself throughout the city that almost feels tangible.