On relationships (and long-term traveling)

Written in Jodphur, India on 21 August 2007

Trains have renewed my wonder at couples. While not overly romantic, I’ve always been slightly enthralled with the idea that our entire world tends to divide up into units of two. On the last few trains, we’ve encountered these couples who are travelling together for just a few weeks. This is Vacation for them and perhaps a chance to see more of each other than they do during Non-vacation time. It’s the little things I notice: a playful pat on the butt, a hand through the hair, that remind me that couples in love tend to touch each other, and I think I notice them now because, well, I've neither seen nor experienced them much in the last four months!

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Josh and I do not touch each other as much as these European holiday-ers. It’s not that we didn’t used to pre-trip; I think we had our fair share of couple-y-ness. But we joke now about our temporary hiatus from the small touches of lovers, while acknowledging two significant and justifiable reasons.

First, we are now in semi-modest India, but we spent the first four months of our trip in cultures that discourage displays of public affection. Two male friends may hold hands, but couples do not. We just didn't see a whole lot of public affection between men and women at all. We certainly weren’t required to forgo the hand on the small of a back or the quick kiss ourselves, but just as we chose not to wear tank tops and short shorts, so we chose not to offend in our relationship. Simply admitting we were indeed married was enough to gain significant respect in nearly every culture we encountered, and I think we just fell out of the habit of touching.

The second reason is climate, plain and simple. I would so rather cuddle before a cozy fire in a cold winter room than snuggle in a sticky, airless Cambodian guest house or put my hand on the back of a lover only to find significant dampness. It just isn’t appealing!

So the Spaniard and French couples that surround me on these August Indian trains have renewed my hope. We will be back in a cold climate again soon, where we eagerly look forward to the joy of touch.

While perhaps a bit detrimental to our relationship, I don’t see the lack of touch as anything permanent. We have, however, learned a lot about each other, ourselves, and ourselves as a couple during this time of travel. It would be impossible to claim otherwise after spending so much time with one person, together experiencing new things, stressful situations, scary moments, incredible beauty, unfamiliar cultures…

Now, Josh has a better idea of just how many little disasters add up to tears for me, and I know roughly how many overcharging tuk-tuk drivers or pushy touts it takes for Josh’s responses to turn sour. We know how to detect irritability resulting from lack of food, drink, or sleep and how to gently suggest stopping for a bite without offending. We’ve learned that joint navigation is not a strong point, perhaps because we both do well on our own and can’t seem to negotiate the two strengths into one. Wandering together is fun and fine, but getting somewhere tricky can cause frustration.

But we also know how well we can work together to bargain down a price or how painfully slow we can be at making decisions regarding which hotel room to take or whether to buy the camel or elephant key chains for my sister’s kids (wait that’s more me). We know how well we can plan and organize our days, even months, with very little disagreement, and we now know we need a detailed budget, not so that we keep to it, but so that we are aware how well we’re doing and can allow our cheap selves to splurge.

I am good at charming a new friend or government official, getting information, and planning a tricky sequence of train trips. Josh is good at striking a hard bargain, confronting in uncomfortable situations, and taking risks that allow us to find ourselves in more interesting locations or events. He is bold where I am not, and I am thorough where he is not. Now we can anticipate a potentially problematic situation (a border crossing, an overcharging taxi driver, a possible hotel discount) by deciding before hand who plays what role, letting the other person handle what they do best.

We’ve spent all of about eight hours apart in the last four months. Honestly, that’s a little absurd, difficult to comprehend, even! But it’s true, and, well, we still get along just fine, like each other, even. I suppose if being dirt poor as two grad students, facing a big city of strangers together, living in all of 300 sf for 3 years weren’t enough to pull us apart, spending 2872 consecutive hours with each other in mildly stressful situations wasn’t going to do it either.