Welcome to India!

Now read that title again, with a strong Indian accent this time, so that "Welcome" sounds more like "Velcome," and you pronounce every vowel and consonant with the same precision you did when you were learning Spanish or some other foreign language.  Come to India and, ironically, your English will be improved, guaranteed.

Of the fifteen ETA's that are in India this year, twelve of us were on the same flight out of Chicago yesterday, July 3rd, the day before America celebrates her independence.  (There were supposed to be thirteen of us on the flight, but one unfortunately missed her connecting flight.)  Having met at the Pre-Departure Orientation (PDO) in Washington, D.C. one week prior made it easy for all of us to recognize each other at the airport.  We all congregated at the gate from which we were to depart.  One big blob of Americans amid a whole lot of Indians who were, I imagine, either returning to the subcontinent after a temporary stay in the US, or making their annual trip to visit their extended families in India.  Someday, I think to myself, my husband and I will be making this trip.

It was there, from our cozy little pile of people and luggage, that we watched the expected departure time for our flight to Delhi change from the original 4:40 PM to various other in-between increments until reaching the final departure time of 7:10 PM.  I was just glad that this flight was not canceled as was my flight home from the PDO in DC.  But, even if it had been, something would have worked out.

And so continues my preparation for India.  Another reminder of two of the most important items you cannot fit in your suitcase: Patience and flexibility.  Five years ago, one of my dear friends, who happens to be Indian American, kindly asked me why I walk so fast.  And, believe it or not, when I finally considered her comment and consciously slowed down my pace, and breathed deeply, the calmness and patience came with it.  This is part of my trick for adjusting to life in India.

This is not to say that I never walk like a crazy person anymore.  Sometimes I have to just to keep up with my mother.  But the pace of life in India is generally more nonchalant.  And you'll probably find yourself slowing your pace for one reason or another, be it the contagious nature of nonchalance or the high temperatures and humidity that impair your ability to do it any other way.

When we finally arrived at the airport, I rushed ahead to get through Immigration and to claim my baggage.  Not that it was terribly busy when we arrived, but I was eager to see my soon-to-be-husband, whom I knew would be waiting for me at Pillar 15.  My nervous excitement must have been a foil to my fellow ETA's who are leaving behind their (romantic) loved ones back in the States.  The feeling of leaving for an unknown period of time is one that I could relate to all too well.  But, fortunately for me, I now found myself on the opposite, happier end of the spectrum - reuniting with my loved one after almost one year.

From the airport the whole group of us traveled to the ridiculous Taj Mahal Hotel.  And by ridiculous I mean marble fountains and banisters, and being welcomed with leis made of fresh, aromatic jasmine flowers.

More on my conflicting feelings about the Taj in an upcoming post...