I am soooooo hot......

It's so hot. It's so frickin hot. I'm blaming my lack of posting (yeah I know I said a new post everyday) on this insanely insufferable heat. It has been consistently over 100 º everyday for the past 2 weeks. The only thing that makes it a little easier is the fact everyone around me tells the temperature using celsius and I suck at conversions, so I hear 40º and convince myself that it's actually quite chilly out. All day I try to figure how long I can go without moving. It's not that I won't sweat if I don't move, it's that I won't feel myself sweating on myself. I'm in a constant state of sticky grimy grossness. Can you tell I don't particularly like warm weather? I know what you're thinking. "Nina, why on earth would you go to INDIA in the SUMMER if you don't like the HEAT?" (Do you like how I put some of your words in all caps for emphasis?? You're welcome.) Well I heard April wouldn't be that bad, that the real heat starts in May.

I heard wrong. So now I feel hot and betrayed. Woe is me. Yesterday I got stuck on a city bus packed to capacity for about a half hour. My host sister turned to me and said (in that lovely broken Hindi-English) "Nina, you have so much sweat all over your body." Yep, I sure do.

Luckily Corinne Rose, a long-term volunteer at Sambhali, has discovered a surefire way to get to sleep at night. SO if you ever find yourself in India during the summer and without AC this is what you need to do to get to sleep at night (that is unless you like sweating out your body weight and lying listlessly at 3 in the morning). Take 1 sheet. Run it under some water. Turn on your fan (although chances are it's probably been on for at least an hour in an effort to cool down your room). Lie under damp sheet. This sheet will be bone dry in 2 hours tops.

Now I would recommend that this is done while wearing the least amount of clothes, but seeing as how I am staying with a very sweet Indian family I would not like to dishonor them by telling you the amount of clothing I wear while doing this. You'll just have to guess, or ask me when you see me. That being said I'm gonna go soak a sheet.

eek, one week to go!

I have one week left in Jodhpur before making my way up to Rishikesh, where I'll be staying in an ashram for 3 weeks. In order to make up for lost time I will attempt to do a new post for everyday that I'm here.

Due to the Royal Wedding this post is going to have to be short because I have biscuits and tea to attend to, but I will leave you with a little video. A few days ago I went to Setrawa for the day to get to know our sister school. The school holds two programs, one earlier in the day for children who normally wouldn't be able to attend classes, and the second is an after-school tutoring program. These kids are from the second group and we just got done putting on a pretty rockin version of the 3 little pigs (guitar included). It's worth noting that the children that attend the Sambhali school are some of the best English speakers in their village. Pretty cool stuff, I dare you to not smile while watching this, go on, I dare you. 

Happy Holi (a little belatedly, but the sentiments the same!)

Holi, or the festival of colors, marks the coming of spring and is celebrated by throwing powdered colors, dousing each other with water, and lots and lots of alcohol. At least that’s how it was celebrated at the guest house, and the little bit of Jodhpur Rowan and I explored. 

As I mentioned Holi celebrates Spring’s arrival (or in my opinion sweltering heat that really should only be associated with the hottest days of summer, but whatever) and I’m sure is linked to some deity, but I’m having a very difficult time in India keeping my gods and festivals straight. Because we had a wedding coming up in the guest house all holi activities had to happen outdoors, and the groom-to-be prepped by slathering coconut oil over any exposed surfaces. Some of us wish he had spread that bit of knowledge as the colors can literally take weeks to wash out!! 

Holi is at it’s core a religious festival, but over the years it has turned into something of a massive water-fight. Westerners (especially women, go figure) are encouraged not to get into the fray as things can get kind of rough (one tradition is to rip people’s shirts off, fun!) and I noticed that a lot of the guest houses throw their own version of holi-lite. Our version was pretty fun as many of the grooms friends came over and treated it as a pre-bachelor party, party. Luckily my fellow volunteer Rowan was also of the mind that if your in India, and it’s holi, staying at the guest house is not totally ideal (I think she may also have a stubborn thumb). So during a lull we grabbed our cameras and sneaked into town. 

A note on traveling in India. Well really it’s a note on traveling anywhere. People love to share their experiences, and I’ve found that so much of what I do and where I go is based on someone’s opinions whether it’s through a guidebook or in conversation. This advice is extremely helpful, especially when you’re confronted with too many options, where should I stay, where should I eat, do I try and make the 8 hour round-trip train journey in the heat to see the Taj Mahal (I think not). That being said, some of the best experiences I've had was a result of getting lost and making do with the situation I'm in. Granted this has as much to do with my personality as it does with creating your own experiences, but really what I'm trying to say is, I'm glad I didn't listen to the warnings and went into town anyways.

It wasn't that crazy. Yes my shirt ripped. and yes boobs were grabbed at, and if your the type of person that would be really upset about that, then I would say don't go into any cities during Holi while traveling in India. Buuuuuuut if you, like me are wearing a grungy shirt that more likely than not ripped on it's own seeing as how there was a hole in it anyways, and really there just boobs, plus I did tae kwon do and I'd like to see anyone try and mess with me hiiiiiiiiiya, then go for it. Also because, it really wasn't that bad. I got to see for example that women don't really participate, preferring instead to watch from the side (I think this may be because their beautiful saris provide them with enough color to ring in 100 springs), and that seeing as how my friend Rowan and I didn't want to get caught in the middle of the fray many men helped us get around particularly crazy frrenzies. I think the video below is a good example of what to avoid, I especially like the guys on the motorcycle towards the end. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that sometimes people can surprise you, and if you're willing, stepping outside of your comfort zone can reveal some truly incredible experiences. I will conclude this story by saying that on our way home Rowan and I were hounded by many drunken men on motorcycles, and when the situation was getting a bit too hairy we were lucky enough to find a tuk tuk who would take us back to the guest house. Who knows what would have happened if the tuk tuk didn't show up, I'd rather focus on how grateful I am that I did. So it is also good to know your limits and realize that sometimes a situation is more than your capable of handling. I'd like to think that the reason I've had such great luck while being here in India is because, for the most part, I've been pretty good at trusting my gut and either going for it or deciding the Taj has been around for hundreds of years and it won't be too disappointed if I don't go see it this trip....

the moment you've all been waiting for....

OK I'll stop stalling and tell you about Sambhali Trust. Sambhali is a non-profit organization that began about 4 years ago to serve impoverished women in the city of Jodhpur. Space was rented from the Durag Niwas guest house so girls and woman who otherwise wouldn't have an opportunity to attend school are now able to receive classes in English, Hindi, math, and depending on what volunteers are there at the time, different arts and crafts. The really neat thing about the way the program is run is that these additional workshops offered to the girls allow them to really experience the world outside of Jodhpur. Volunteers come from all over the world and sometimes they help with english or maths classes, but in some instances you have women teaching knitting, quilting, or currently we have one volunteer teaching the girls about photography and two other volunteers working on theatre. Although these skills may not seem very marketable, the value they have for the girls is really immeasurable. Yesterday some of the volunteers put together an exhibition to showcase photography and theatre, and the girls had a blast. There was dancing, yummy snacks, and at the end the girls were awarded for their hard work with flowers and treats. Three of the girls from the photography workshop won clothes for having the strongest photos. If you have a chance check out the volunteer, Rowan Lange's blog, i to eye where she has some images that the girl's took. If you're interested you can purchase a print and this helps the girls to start earning an income, and could possibly spark the interest of a budding photographer!

The girls here are truly incredible. Although many of them come from the Dalit (untouchable) caste, the moment they are in the center all I see are big warm smiles and a truly contagious energy. At first I thought it would be hard to communicate, but luckily smiling and nodding goes a long way to making yourself understood. 

desert oasis...

Alritey, as promised a post on Jodhpur and the Durag Niwas guest house.

Upon arrival in Jodhpur I wanted to jump back on the train to Delhi. Immediately. Not only did I have no idea where I was going, or where I would be sleeping that night, but I found rickshaw drivers in Jodhpur to be waaaaaaay more aggressive than in Delhi. This meant everyone wanted to give me a ride and had the "perfect" hotel for me to stay in. Being the type of person who really likes to strike out on my own (that stubborn thumb of mine at work) I walked away from the hustle and bustle of the train station, Janet in tow, until I could find a quite place to pull out my guidebook and get a sense of my surroundings.

The problem is that I never have a sense of my surroundings. Ever. I'm the type of person that gets lost crossing the street. In fact, I DID get lost once crossing the street! For 3 HOURS!! In Fairfax, Virginia no less!! Luckily, traveling in Delhi for 2 days did act as a type of fortifier so I decided to try walking in the direction all the rickshaws were headed and try my luck. It seems like my luck ran out....

A constant struggle while traveling in India is cost. The exchange rate between rupees and dollars is around 45 rupees to the dollar. As a westerner you know that you're initially going to be told the "foreigner" rate as opposed to the indian rate. The struggle is that even though 500 rupees for a budget room means you're getting scammed, when you break it down its about $12 dollars which really isn't that bad. Many things may enter your mind when haggling here. Just from a sense of pride you don't want to be "had" but at the same time for a lot of people here the extra 20-100 rupees they get from offering their services to westerners is really how they make their income. That being said after my morning off the train I was not in the mood to be scammed, so haggle I did. I suck. I found a room for 250 rupees, and maybe if I was traveling with someone else would I have felt safe staying in that room, but considering I was on my own I didn't want to push the luck I felt was already running out. I decided to take a room at Shanti Bhawan Hotel, just for the sake of dropping Janet to search for better quarters on my own...

Which led me to Durag Niwas Guest House. Durag Niwas is run by Govind Rathore, who also founded Sambhali Trust. I found the website for the organization about a week before I left for India and was really going on a wish and a prayer that it would work out for me to stay there for 2 months as a volunteer. On top of that I showed up a day earlier than I anticipated which is why I bothered trying to find a room on my own in the first place. Showing up here felt like the first right decision I'd made in awhile, and it was. The guest house is the ideal retreat in this desert city, just far enough outside of the city for you to feel like you're both away from it all, and that it's just around the corner. Once inside you may forget you're in India except for all the conversations taking place around in Hindi. The real charm of the guest house is that you will also just as likely hear German, French, and blessedly English. I never realized how much I love my language! Ah, now I can relax. Despite my randomly popping up on their stoop they were able to find me a room for the night, and two hours later I had met my new BFF, Chili , and had agreed to stay on for the next two months as a volunteer to Sambhali Trust!

Chili

With my luck restored I retrieved Janet from the dreaded depths of Shanti Bhawan (shudder) and entered my desert oasis of durag niwas. This post is getting a little long (they all seem to do that : /) so I will save the next for Sambhali Trust and all the amazing things that go along with it!

in celebration of women...

I know I said my next post would deal with getting settled in Jodhpur and the organization I'm working for, but seeing as how this past Tuesday was International Women's Day a different posting feels more appropriate.

Sambhali Trust is an organization working towards empowering women in the city of Jodhpur and Setrawa, a rural village about two hours away. To realize this dream a free school was established to teach English, Hindi, Math, etc. Volunteers who come to the site hold workshops on a variety of subjects such as theatre, photography, health, and different arts & crafts skills. As a way to bring more funding to the program and allow the women and girls to start earning an income, sewing schools have been established along with the Sambhali Boutique, where a variety of products are sold. Govind Rathore, the founder of Sambhali and proprietor of the Durag Niwas guest house, has created a real asset for this community and provides for these women and girls an opportunity which wouldn't be available to many of them otherwise.

This being the case a very disheartening thing is happening. For a variety of reasons attendance to the center can easily be described as a bit spotty. Although the school is free many times girls do not receive support from their family or taunting from members of their community serves as an effective deterrent. Earlier this week we were informed that two girls, sisters Priyanka Ral and Priya, were no longer going to be able to attend the school as per their uncle's orders. Any girl that is told she can't attend the school is going to be a loss, but this was especially disheartening due to the aptitude Priyanka Ral had shown in the photography workshop. Then the next morning we found out that another girl, Radha, was being pulled from the school because of her parents.

Radha's situation is a bit different in that her parents were responding to a recent occurrence in our city of Jodhpur. This week an eight year old girl was raped by her 22-year old teacher, who had been assigned to the area through an NGO. The only reason her parent's found out about this is because of the blood they found on her sheets the next morning. That man is now in jail, but his family is planning to offer the victim's family around $6,000 in exchange for any charges being dropped. Now this girl's family is living in poverty so of course $6,000 is going to be hard to turn down, especially when the alternative is an expensive lawsuit which not only can they not afford, but they very well may lose. Not only has this man disgraced this girl and her family, but he's also given NGO's a bad name further hindering an already uphill battle. For example Radha's family pulled her from the school out of fear that something like this could happen to their daughter.

International Women's Day celebrates the achievements of women all around the world and recognizes the work women do every day in support of their families and communities. In light of stories like these it becomes obvious why a day like this is needed, because a girl born in the developing world faces a battlefield from day one. Everywhere she turns not only is she told that she's not capable, but people all around her treat her like an object to be used, as opposed to a person who has value. The real shame of course is that they do have value, we all do. Until this is realized not only are we holding back the dreams and achievement of millions of girls all around the world, but we are hindering our own growth whether that be economic, academic, in the arts, the possibilities are endless.

The Girl Effect

The above video is really wonderful, if you have 3 minutes take a look. Hopefully it will get you excited about the many possibilities there are in empowering women and girls all over the world! To end on a happier note, Rowan, the photography volunteer, and one of Sambhali's teachers, Tamana, went to talk to the girl's families and present all 3 are back in school! This is a really great achievement and a big win for those girls, but there are millions more girls out there who also deserve a chance.

planes, trains, and autorickshaws

After being on the move for quite a few days I have finally arrived to Jodhpur, the blue city, in Rajastahn. This is where I will be volunteering for the next 2 months with Sambhali Trust! My last day in Delhi involved some more sightseeing led by my very trustworthy and protective guide, Shafiq. Our day included a palm reading in which the first pronouncement was that I am very determined. After having some difficulty bending my thumb backwards Shafiq declared, “oh, you are very stubborn. It doesn’t matter what your parents tell you, when your mind’s made up, that’s it.” Yeah, no joke.

One of our stops was to the Lotus Temple house of worship, celebrating the Baha’i faith. This beautiful temple was built in 1986 in imitation of the lotus flower, and the Baha’i worshippers welcome folks from all over to visit the temple, as long as you take your shoes off and keep your mouth shut!

At the end of the day Shafiq and I made our way to the Old Delhi Train station where my overnight train to Delhi left at 8:55. A few words on Indian Rail travel. Firstly every guidebook and person you come across is going to tell you how necessary it is to experience traveling India by rail in order to really experience India. The second thing they’re going to say is how dangerous it is, especially, if you’re a foreigner, especially especially if you’re a female foreigner, especially especially especially if you’re a female foreigner traveling by yourself (and throw on top of that at night no less)… yeesh. So guarded with my chain, padlock, and trusty reporter Shafiq we waited for the Mandore Express to Jodhpur to arrive. As we waited in the train I tried many times to tell Shafiq I was fine, and that really he could go back to his hotel seeing as how he was literally falling asleep on his feet. “NO Nina! Even if your train does not leave until 11 o’clock, I will be here!” Luckily the train was running quite on time, so after introducing himself to my fellow passengers (a bunch of american high school girls on their way to a mission trip….oooo scary) with the charge that they look after me, Shafiq was on his way. But first he left me with the warning to not trust anyone, and to be safe. Somehow he didn’t see the irony in this, and it’s for this reason I am so grateful I am able to call this man my friend! 

The train was pretty uneventful, to be honest I got my best night of sleep since arriving! Next post will be about discovering my desert oasis, Durag Niwas, and the wonderful Sambhali Trust!

day one (part 2)

I feel like yesterday was really my first day, and it was surreal. So far it seems like India (or Delhi to be more specific) is going to be all about defying expectations. But, before I get there I should probably tell you how the rest of my trip went.

It was pretty uneventful, except that THE BEST THING EVER happened. Did you know that international airlines don’t charge a checked bag fee?!?!?! Yeah me neither. So I dropped Janet like a bad date, and me and my very relieved back went on our merry way. On the flight from Paris to Delhi I sat next to an Indian woman named Esther* who lives with her kids in Newcastle, England and is on her way to Punjab to visit her family. Esther was an awesome seat buddy, whenever the food came around she would wake me up, and whenever she needed something opened I was on hand to help her out. We swapped pictures (thanks dad for giving me those!!) and talked about our mutual love of Michael Jackson and his fancy footwork. A girl after my own heart.

Before I arrived I made sure that the hotel I booked had airport pick-up. This was really important because I was arriving at midnight and as much as I would like to consider myself the intrepid traveler, navigating a new city where I don’t know the language and everyone is looking to scam a tourist did not seem like a good idea. Although it took some patience (which was probably more from exhaustion than inner peace) and a little searching, after about an hour I found my driver Iran.* One of the first things that hit me upon leaving the airport was how much I felt like I was in Jamaica, or Miami. In a word it’s muggy, so far it’s no worse than Virginia in July, but coming from 40 degree weather it was a little shock to the system. The second thing that hit me was how crazy it is driving around here. Honestly I don’t know why there are even lines on the road. I didn’t see anyone drive within a lane for more than 30 seconds. Luckily Iran was a pretty cool customer so I felt safe (again that could have been the exhaustion) which was good because after 3 failed attempts to put on my seatbelt I remembered I was in India sooooooo probably not a big deal…. 

So 40 minutes and 20 rupees later I’m at the hotel sunrise and after reading mixed reviews I’m glad to find that it’s… perfectly adequate. To be honest if I was spending more than 30 bucks a night then it may have been a let down, but it’s got a bed a shower (kind of) and is exactly what I want to see at 1 am . 

Friday morning I wake up, and I realize I’m India. WHAT?!?!?! I don’t know anyone here, have no idea how I’m going to get around, and the guidebooks keep warning about Delhi Belly… what the heck have I gotten myself into?? After talking myself down from the ledge (or should I say perch… get it? get it?, I’m sooooo funny)I google aloo parantha decide it sounds amazing and tell myself that even if decide to stay inside all day it won’t be the worst thing ever. Then the aloo parantha arrives and it is amazing, so then I decide that I should give this whole solo travel thing a shot. But before that I need to tackle to the shower…

When I first arrived one of the first things I wanted to do was take a shower. I had been wearing the same thing for 3 days and the idea of getting clean seemed like a great idea. Then I saw my shower…it has 3 spouts….and a bucket…..and after a little searching, a drain. That’s when I decided I was really more tired then dirty, and I didn’t smell that bad (yeah I can convince myself of ANYTHING). But now I’m going to tackle Delhi and I want to be clean, gosh darn it. After a swift kick in the pants and a reminder that I’ve dealt  with faaaaaaaaar worse at summer camp I clean myself up and get ready to go. 

Being the good student that I am I draw myself a little map and memorize the metro stations so I can find my way to the city center. I don’t want to bring my guidebook because I’m trying really hard to not stand out like the super lost tourist that I am. Then I get outside and I realize I am a super lost tourist!! What was I thinking? My stoooopid map isn’t going to help me if there aren’t street signs!! I don’t know if I should go right left up down, what have I gotten myself intooooo??? AAAAAAA. Wait. Calm down. It’s ok, you can take a rickshaw. You won’t be considered a massive failure if you use the SAME MODE of transportation as everyone around you. Whew. That was close. So I ask Govinda the rickshaw-wallah how much a ride to the metro is and he says 20 rupees (that’s definitely the tourist price but seeing as how it’s about 50 cents, not a big deal) so I hope on and I’m on my way. When I get to the metro I tell Govinda I only have a 100 rupee note so I need change, and then homeboy tells me I’m good and don’t worry about it. WHAT?!?!? Do you mean to tell me in a city where tourist are getting scammed left and right I just got a free ride to the metro? Yeah, that just happened.

The metro is really easy to use (to be honest I had more trouble trying to navigate Chicago’s public transportation) and they have women only cabins so if you’re a solo female traveller this is definitely a safe option. I make it to Rajiv Chowk and now I feel like I’m really in India. I’m on the street for 5 minutes before some guy runs up to me asking me questions to see if he canhelp me find what I’m looking for, etc. So I know I’m very gullible, and trusting to a fault. Sometimes I feel like I have sucker written in all caps on my forehead, and this is just from being in the States so immediately my guard goes up, except that I meet this really nice kid Raj. And he tells me he want to practice his English. Yeah this kid is smooth. So I figure I’ve got all important things hidden under my clothes so what’s the worst that could happen from letting this kid show me around his stomping grounds. If you’re expecting to hear how I was taken to some den of despair and sold into the international human trafficking racket and what not, you guessed wrong. Raj showed me around the markets helped me find some authentic Punjabi clothes and that was it. In fact when I tried to give him a couple of rupees to show my thanks for his help he wouldn’t take it. Seriously?? What’s going on here? Then I’m on my way to the International Tourist Bureau to get my ticket to Jodhpur for Saturday night.

The train station is a massive complex that feels like a small city slightly under siege. Guards are at all entrances to check bags and passengers alike and once you’re inside it’s a mini (and mini in Delhi terms means roughly the same amount of people you would find in Times Square) metropolis of people getting to where they need to go, and selling things they think you need before you get there. After a lot of up/down round and round I finally find the ITB to get my ticket. While I’m there I meet a nice Bengali family with the cutest baby ever (yeah I’m a fan of hyperbole, so? This baby was really frickin cute!) and despite my mother’s warnings I got to hold the baby for a picture (sorry mom). I get my ticket and am on my way to find an internet cafe before I’m stopped by Shafiq who was at the ITB with me. 

Shafiq is a Pakistani sports reporter, in town for the International Cricket World Cup match. He took the picture of me with the Bengali family and has now become my new friend and tour guide for the rest of my time in Delhi. Shafiq lived in London for 6 years and during that time got hit pretty hard by the stock market crash so now he’s back home in Lahore working for the APP and trying to keep his blood sugar down. His doctor advised him to get out of the stock market, and surround himself by happy people, so apparently I am just what the doctor ordered. Literally. Shafiq is the best tour guide a girl could ask for. In fact maybe a little too good. After hearing some scary things about street food, I decide I better give my stomach a few days before I get too adventurous. There’s kind of a problem though in that Delhi street food looks AMAZING! It’s potatoes and cheese fried in battery goodness. Delhi Belly be damned I’m going for it. And chai tea. And fruit. And pretty much anything Shafiq throws at me. We get a ride to Jama Masjid mosque (Shafiq makes me stand by myself so he can negotiate a non-tourist price for the rickshaw) and then we’re on our way to Old Delhi. The main difference between Old Delhi and New is that Old Delhi is even more crowded. Yeah, more crowded. We get to the mosque in time for prayer and luckily we’re still allowed to walk around.

Jama masjid is the largest mosque in India and was one of the last architectural endeavors undertaken by Shah Jahan (same guy responsible for the Taj Mahal, yeah this guy thinks BIG). It’s right in the middle of Old Delhi, and I can’t help but compare it to cathedral’s in Italy. This is basically a hang out spot. You’ve got kids running around, older people sitting on the side shooting the breeze and in the middle men are washing themselves in preparation for midday prayers. Pretty cool.

After this Shafiq helps me find my way back to the hotel (thank goodness because there is noooo way I could have done that on my own) with the promise to meet up on Saturday for another day of sightseeing. So all in all, not a bad day in Delhi. 

*A note on names in this blog. I have no idea if I’m spelling them correctly so they will be completely phonetically based, and that of course will be influenced by how well I understand the person I’m speaking with. 

what my day would have looked like, had I made it to london...

day one.

Or, why sometimes laziness pays, or, how I met Prasad, or, why a sassy airport guy didn’t get the best of me…

However this day will be referred to, it has been eventful, and luckily in a good way. I have arrived in London to find it dreary and grey…..Shocker, right? Actually it was for me because the last time I was here London was sunny and beautiful. Granted it was a completely different season, but I still believe that everything freezes in time when I’m not around (I’m working on that). So my plans for whisking away from Heathrow on the Underground and spending the day at the Tate Modern gazing at Rothko’s and the like was torn asunder as I realized in packing for India I was not prepared for London’s cold, and let’s be honest the idea of whisking anywhere with this frickin’ backpack dragging me down did not endear me to the Tate’s charms, Rothko’s and all. So instead I have made up my mind to spend the ENTIRE DAY inside Heathrow Airport. Unfortunately I came to this conclusion after leaving customs so I have to wait until 3 hours before my flight before I can go to where the comfy seats and good food (well by London airport standards) lay in wait for me to concur them with my aching tush and grumbling belly. Can you tell that I am writing this at hour 20 of a 24 hour wait? But what about all those good eventful things that happened you’re wondering, right? Well let’s rewind to about hour 10. After leaving customs (yay, another stamp for the passport!!) I find the terminal for my flight to Delhi and decide this will be as good a spot as any to wait for my next flight. I check in so I can secure a window seat (mission accomplished f.y.i.). After receiving some assistance with a faulty passport checker, nice airport guy bade me to the terminal before realizing my flight didn’t leave for another day, oh well. He asked if I was checking any bags while casting a skeptical glance at my backpack (which from this point forward will be referred to as Janet) and I responded no! He expressed his concern on whether or not I’ll be able to get through….only time will tell. So I pass a few good hours reading Jane Eyre (totally forgot how amazing this story is b.t.w. like, seriously, AMAZING). Then I decide I’m over this Cafe Nero and I’m going to test Janet out on the security guards. That’s when I met Mr. Sassy Pants. After insulting the passenger ahead of me for not understanding how to scan his boarding pass correctly I was determined to be the exemplary passenger and learn from my companion’s folly. Imagine my surprise when upon scanning my boarding pass I’m met with a huge X! Making sure I was holding it the right way (I was) I tried about 4 more times before His Sassiness deigned to look at my ticket and tell me that it’s the wrong day. When I asked him what he meant by that he looked at me like I was growing horns and explained to me that today is March 2nd and my flight does not leave until March 3rd. OK readers I have to admit I have never before tried to enter the gate the day before a flight and I can see how this might be problematic to airport staff, BUT how about assuming that the passenger didn’t show up to the airport on the wrong day, instead she just decided she was to lazy to whisk into London for the day!!!! Seriously!! So back to Cafe Nero, Janet in tow, do I return.

While whiling away the hours I decide now is as good a time as any to try my hand at learning Hindi (yeah, I know a better time would have been 4 months ago when I started planning this trip), and luckily this sparks the interest of my neighbor who just happens to be returning to India after studying in Scotland for 2 1/2 years! Prasad is his name, and it was like the travel gods smiled down on me and sent a Guardian Angel. As the time for me to leave for India has gotten closer I have become A LOT more dubious about the, errrrrrr, logic of this trip of mine. If someone had said to me 3 months ago here’s a ticket and some money but you have to leave for India now, I would be outta there in a flash, but now I feel like the craziest person in the world. That is until I met Prasad who taught me some really helpful Hindi phrases, helped me find my hotel on a map, and made me feel a lot better about this journey I’m taking. Just what I needed. So that was awesome, unfortunately the past 10 hours have been me riding around on the free shuttle from one Terminal to the next to keep my circulation going. But I did finish Jane Eyre (cried 3 times, ugh…) and I now know how to not get scammed at the train station (I hope) and how to find veggie samosas….Delhi, get ready for me…..

“I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move."

~ Robert Louis Stevenson