Tea in India vs. Cherries in Niagara

By Prem Masih with Janice Opie

My first experience of being out of my home country of India was Niagara Region. Where were the people? I could walk without bumping shoulders constantly. The space between one person and another was like floating in air. The trip from the airport to my friend’s home in St. Catharines captured my attention to the landscape. It was clean! There were no gatherings of thin plastic bags lining edges of grass or field or between rocks. No moldy eyesore abandoned buildings.

Let’s back up and describe what kind of place I am from first. Believe or not, I can see my breath in winter where I live. I’m at 3,000 feet in the little village of Rajpur north of Delhi in what some describe as the foothills of the Himalayas. This elevation attracts both tourists and locals alike for summer retreat from the heat of the south of India. One can buy a cigarette for a couple of rupees, tea stalls serve sweet milky tea in glasses for you to sit roadside and enjoy. Roadside in Rajpur stills means sitting with meandering cows, noisy buses and a constant stream of villagers traipsing by. Buses groan as they approach the village from its uphill climb from the bigger metropolis of Dehra Dun. A surge occurs each and every time to board the bus, somewhat like I have heard occurs when exiting a stadium in your country except with extreme urgency. I eyed two westerners looking pensively for something, I’m not sure what but obviously in need of information. Long

Photos courtesy of Janice Opie story short, they became my neighbour and thirty years later we are still friends. So friendly in fact, they offered to fly me to Canada secondly to visit them but firstly to see my daughter graduate from Simon Fraser University, in Vancouver. What joy! What generosity!

Having departed the Toronto airport, I found myself uncomfortable driving in the car with the windows closed up. My rides were always open windowed in India and my friend acquiesced my request. The onslaught of wind was not expected causing me to lean away from the window. She explained we were travelling over 100 km/hr which is not done in my surroundings of hills and crowded traffic conditions in larger towns. I understood this and she decided to take the side roads instead, allowing us to enjoy the breeze at a slower speed.

This new route introduced me to road side fruit stands, certainly not uncommon in India but it was cherry season. This delicacy was not in my village and not part of my household. She pulled over to a “pick your own” and I followed her instructions. This was another first and a delightful one at that.

The rest of the ride for me was awesome. Houses with grass, no fences or cement walls, flowers growing in gardens, commercial areas that still felt clean and spacious. I think I was really going to like it here.

Home sweet home, I unpacked in the guest room while she made tea and we later sat on her deck viewing a lovely yard with water feature and quiet. Absolute quiet. That night, her husband brought out the telescope and I viewed the moon… another first. I was in my element when they decided to have a late fire after. Fire was one thing just about every Indian knows how to make. I quickly took over the endeavour and within minutes I had a healthy fire we sat around on this summer night. I scanned my surroundings and was appreciative of privacy, silence and safety which to have all three at once continually is a treat in my village. It’s either noise, nosy people or intruders at one time or another, a vigil to maintain, especially as a single woman in India. Niagara! I was taken to lock two of the Welland Canal. At that time, you could actually stand close to the boats that grind along the wall as it entered the lock as one did when I was there. Later, I played what was called Bingo at a Lions Club event and won!! I was told “yell BINGO”. Money was handed to me. Now that was not something I experienced in India. I liked it.

But best of all, I found myself very still, face raised to the sky, and allowed the mist from Niagara Falls to cover my face. My friend was patient. She knew I was experiencing and embedding in my mind this most incredible feeling. Niagara Falls was coming home with me somehow and this was it. A physical interaction of mist and a roaring in my ears. How fortunate to live near here. And I stood some more. I reminisce my visit after all these years. The beauty of the Niagara Region, the bounty of its orchards and vineyards, the life style of peace and tranquility. You are a lucky people. Enjoy it as I drink my hot sweet milky tea and swish the cow away.