By Ryhana Dawood

5:30 am - I awaken to the sound of hymns.

Voices grow louder in the room beside me as the nuns begin to partake in their devotional prayers. I stick my head under my pillow in an attempt to drown out the noise and fall back asleep. After several attempts, I realize I would have no such luck. I toss and turn in my bed and finally decide to turn and face my friend who is wide awake in the bed beside me. She tells me she is ready to go and join the nuns in prayer. I give her a blank stare. She laughs, grabs a small package from her suitcase and hands it over to me. 

"I'm sorry," she says with a smile. "Go back to sleep."

I open it up and I so am relieved. Ear plugs have never looked so good to me.

***

In the summer of 2012, I spent a few weeks in Bangalore trying to help local street girls. I was a young Muslim woman, living with Catholic nuns. Before arriving in Bangalore, many of my friends and family were wary about me traveling alone to India. They had heard of the recent sexual assault incidents which naturally made them wary, but mainly they were afraid of the unknown. I assured them this would be an amazing opportunity for me to share some of my skills with others and would be a wonderful opportunity for personal development. Thus, I embarked on the trip of a lifetime.

I spent about two months traveling around India - from north to south and east to west- learning more about the people and rich culture. I sampled delicious vada in the South, kebab and dhaal in the North, momos, a type of dumpling, in Darjeeling overlooking the Himalayas and fresh fruits and Portuguese-inspired cuisine on the West coast.   The food in India is even better than it is often described. As I sampled many of the flavourful vegetarian dishes, I kept recounting to myself that if I was to ever become a vegetarian, I would move to India and not even miss meat for a second.