Everywhere I go people stare. Well, almost everywhere.

It’s certainly a cultural difference; back home, making eye contact causes embarrassment. In India, I am constantly gazing deep into a pair of dark, brown eyes – examining my examiner.

At first I felt threatened, like I was a target or an unwanted guest. But, I quickly learned the stares are more of interest than anything. I cannot go anywhere without being approached, getting asked if I know Barack Obama, if I want to be their friend, or, in a promiscuous, sly Indian whisper: “if you eat meat, we can make sexy BBQ together.”

My runs in the countryside are when I get the most stares. I can understand why. Camels, bulls, cows, dogs and farmers are my only company while I run. So when a family sees a white guy jogging past their farm, it prompts a few questions I can decipher in their peculiar study of my presence:

1. Where are you going? Where are you coming from?

2. Where are you actually from? Most people in the countryside haven’t seen more than a handful of white people in their lives.

3. Why are you running? What is the purpose? Nobody exercises, especially in and around Bagru.

4.  Are you ill? Do you need help?

Then something funny happens. 

The word “Jaisirayam” (jay-si-ay-ram) is synonymous with “Hello” or “Namaste.” Jaisirayam actually translates to something like “I see God in you” or “I see spirit in you.”

As I run past people, I smile, wave and say “Jaisirayam!” – and suddenly, perplexed faces are instantly transposed to welcoming smiles. In a moment, I am no longer a foreign wacko running by their farm, but I’m a man of peace, of God, and just someone appreciating the beauty of their environment. “Jaisirayam!” people reply to me, belting it out like a peanut salesman at a baseball game.

It only takes one spiritual word, and no longer do people stare. Instead they look with gratitude, happy to share part of their lives with me. I feel this same experience every morning, in a different place…