When my driver arrived to pick me up he didn't seem to speak much English. He handed me a paper that welcomed me and we went to the car. As we left the hotel he explained that we need to go pick up two others at the airport. He spoke quite well and we had easy conversation. When we got to the airport he told me where I could sit to have AC while he went for the other 2 people.

The airport was different in the hectic evening hours it included my first experience of seeing many women dressed in full coverage, even their hands were covered. I would be a liar if I said it didn't catch me off guard. It reached deep in my soul and lit a fear inside me as I watched these women walk behind their families. In that moment it wasn't judgment, maybe some think it should have been, but it was actual fear like the visceral feeling of fear deep in my body. I immediately believed that it was fear of consequences that compelled these women to cover themselves.

Later on in the trip I had a conversation with another volunteer about full coverage. She said she had experiences with women who wore full coverage and that they weren't sad and didn't feel oppressed, but that the covering made then feel safe. While there is a whole host of issues where there is a world that full coverage equals safe, I realized that any changes will be slow and difficult. I am hopeful that progress can be gained, but in some small way I realized feeling safe trumps fast progress, and it helped me make sense of it. With that said, none of that changed my visceral emotional response of fear and it makes me wonder if it was media induced or maybe it was scars inside me talking. Reminding me of that feeling of fear being in a place of powerlessness at the hands of another where each moment was volatile and unpredictable. Reminding me of the healing I've done when I realized I simply needed to find the strength to see that I allowed it, and so I can change it. But as we all know, looking in the mirror to see the ways we create our own suffering is not an easy task, and forgiving yourself can be even harder, but all of that is needed to heal and grow.

Soon after he left the driver walked over and motioned to me that we were on the move again, and now there were two others following him. None of us knew any details of where we were going. The driver told us it would be about an hour drive. I learned that the young women was from New Zealand and the young man was from Hong Kong. The majority of the ride was in silence as we looked out the window at the city and got the full introduction to what its like to drive in India. I can honestly say what I saw out the window was a blur. Although now I can picture it quite well. I remember thinking we must be in the bad part of the city, but I was wrong. I will get into that later. For now I will attempt to describe driving in India. I am certain I will not be able to put into words what it was like to travel all around India in taxies and buses, but I will try.