Doubtful Delhi

  New Delhi, India
Saturday, May 3, 2008

I have just had a premonition of mass transit in India, people shoving and jostling onto the plane, carrying DVD players, TVs, microwaves, all sorts of electronic crap bought on the cheap in Dubai, by indians who slave it out in Dubai for months or years at a time, and taken back to the village as tokens of accomplishment in the "west." Boxes falling out of overhead compartments and smacking people in the head, frustrated flight attendants arguing with non-plussed indians about maximum carry on baggage....which is apparently non applicable... I pull over my scarf, drawing the night sky around my head and sleep...

Bam...Delhi airport... All my luggage is present and accounted for..including the medical supplies...(haha Dad told ya so...).I thought it would be busier, then I realize I am only in the international terminal. I exchange some rups.. and I walk out into the throngs of people waving signs, none of which have my name...my body screams for a cold beer and a bed..no such luck, I make a call and am assured some underling will be here to pick me up within the hour...I pass the time chatting with a french family who have come here for a whirlwind tour of India...3 weeks, but they don't like spicy food, or bugs, or crowds...hmmmm??  I then spot a very lost looking fella in a grimy blue shirt bumbling around the arrivals area, I flag him over...and ask who he is lookin for...he has no clue, so I ask where he works...bingo he is from NQ...he smiles and pulls out a scrap of paper and holds it out to me...I laugh, it is upside down, and thinly scrawled is a bad indian rendition of my name...I laugh even harder and slap my driver on the back.. he smiles and motions to my bags, I tell him I'll carry it but he insists...the bag is bigger than him but hey I am tired and in no mood to argue....

The Delhi night smacks me in the face like a jealous lover...thick, heated, and bittersweet. the mixing smell of tobacco, diesel, and rancid something swirl around my nostrils. My lil friend has a brand new ride though and soon we speed off into the eye of the storm...swerving in and out of traffic, the trip culminates in an interesting drive through the oncoming traffic of a 4 lane interstate roadway with horns blazing...and the Hotel Star.



I get a room and a beer... and have my first indian shower...it is like heaven in a bucket... I then get a phone call....telling me I will be stuck in Delhi till fucking Monday, because the other students don't know their flight itinerary from their assholes.....not what I wanted to hear at this moment. I spend the next few days avoiding the front desk...outta sight outta mind, they can't make me pay if they can't find me right??