Before even stepping foot in India, many of us had already decided what it would be.
When rumors started echoing around the ship that the Nipah virus might force us to divert, reactions split into two. Some students were thrilled at the possibility of going somewhere else. Others, like me, felt immediate disappointment. We hadn’t even arrived, and yet, two entirely different Indias already existed in our minds.
Most voyagers expected overwhelming smells, crowded streets, and failing infrastructure. That is what we had been told of the country. What struck me most after traveling through Kochi, Goa, Jaipur, and Agra was not just how wrong I was about India’s beauty, but how differently people experienced the exact same place. I realized a shocking truth: the India you experienced largely depended on the expectations you carried into it.
In Agra, I spoke with a jewelry and carpet shop owner whose family had owned the store for generations. He told me something that shifted my perspective: in India, handmade goods are less expensive than machine-produced ones. In the United States, “handmade” showcases exclusivity. But here, labor is extremely abundant, and machinery is the bigger investment. Human skill is everywhere.
What some might label as “underdevelopment” can also be seen as preservation: of the artistry, tradition, and craftsmanship. The intricately woven carpets with silk thread, delicate marble inlay with the stone found only in that one specific region, and even the vibrant textiles were not relics of the past; they were the living culture of the country.
After just five days in India, it was clear that we had each experienced entirely different versions of the same country. Some came back transformed, sharing their stories of hiking in the Himalayas, watching sunlight spill across the mountain ridges. Others describe slow mornings at yoga retreats in Goa, or even evenings with host families in Kashmir, as well as moments sipping tea in a tuk-tuk driver’s home while henna dried on their hands.
We had all stepped onto the same soil, and breathed the same air; yet somehow, we had traveled to entirely different Indias.
Before disembarking, our reflection leader told us, “Visit like a traveler, not a tourist.” In India, that became way more than just a cliché.
India is not a place you simply see. It is a place you have to really experience. And often, the experience reveals more about you than it does about the country itself.
Ines Azoy-Parravano is the Global Journalism Fellow for the Spring 2026 Semester at Sea Voyage. She attends the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor and her writing typically explores topics related to energy equity, climate justice, and global social change.
