Equations and My Personal Bubble

One thing about India is that there is a lot of people. I mean a LOT of people. Just think about this: California is the most populous state in the USA with roughly 37 million people. The metropolis of Delhi (meaning not just the city limits but also the surrounding suburbs) contains approximately 22 million. You do the math. One city = half of California’s population fit into about

Or how about his little equation: the population of Delhi city proper is about 24,000 people per square mile. For my Ojai cronies, just think, we could just about put all of Ojai into a square block a mile in width. You do the math. One square mile in Delhi = small town anywhere else in the civilized world.

So what does it all mean? Let me answer that with another equation:

Tyson taking a 12 hour ride from Darmasala to Delhi on a crowded state-operated bus (none of this fancy-shmancy ‘deluxe buses’ like the way we came to Darmasala) = Tyson shoulder being rubbed for extended amounts of time by an over-weight Sikh man’s buttocks. It… was… disgusting… It was like I was being engulfed in a gelatinous ameba that was simultaneously warm to the touch yet sent shivers down my spine. Oh, the horror…

The scene above, while more graphic than most, demonstrates something that I have learned to, dare I say, love about India. In America, our ‘personal bubble,’ that is personal space, seems to extend feet beyond our bodies. Maybe we can have the luxury to do that because there isn’t the density issues. Maybe it is just a cultural difference. Regardless, since coming to India, my personal bubble has severely shrunk, albeit most likely out of necessity. Now, when faced with the challenge of getting on the metro where both sides push and shove to get in or out of the metro and seem locked in eternal combat (or at least until the doors close), I non-chalantly put my elbows up and charge into the fold until I too get into the train. I can push my way to the front of a ticket counter like they are handing out gold. I can look straight back into the eyes of the people who stare at me where ever I go.

I really wonder what will happen when I go back to the USA. Will I push and shove my way to the metro doors in Washington DC? Will I cut in front of everyone in the coffee line? Will I awkwardly be staring at everyone as if it is normal? Who knows? Nontheless, my ‘bubble’ has definitely shrunk.

But I must say, when my ‘personal’ bubble was only separated by a few pieces of cloth from his ‘physical’ bubble, I maybe I still do need a certain amount of personal space…

Oh and one final equation. Tyson + a blubbery buttocks being rubbed against his shoulder = Tyson’ being totally grossed out.