It appears that what is said about India is true. Maybe too grand of a statement for only being in the country for twenty-four hours, but I guess time will tell. To begin, Angie and I left from Minneapolis at about three in the afternoon. Eight hours later we were in the Amsterdam airport for five hours. Another eight hour flight brought us to New Delhi. For those adding up the travel time, that is about three hours shorter and two fewer planes than the Minneapolis-Tununak journey. It won't be the only difference between Alaska and India, I'm sure.
We landed in New Delhi around ten thirty at night India time. Waiting for us was our driver from Cross Cultural Solutions, Vicky. Wearing jeans, a polo, tennis shoes, and the a turban, Vicky was our guardian for the first part of the Indian adventure. This trend, the blending of Eastern and Western cultures, is present all over India. One other volunteer was on our plane, a recent high school graduate from Guatemala, Isabella, so the four of us made our way to a taxi.
In the taxi we quickly discovered that what is said about driving in India is true. Road rules are not rules as much as they are "guidelines". Even at midnight, the roads are full of life. The first thing I noticed was that the painted lines mean nothing to the drivers, at least in my opinion. If there is an opening in traffic, one must zip through. A courteous honk of the horn alerts the slower vehicle that you are passing or is heard from others when being passed. I have heard it derided as chaos and anarchy. But it is anything but. The diversity of vehicles, from trucks to taxis to small cars to three-wheeled motor rickshaws to bicycles to pedestrians - everyone moves along at there own pace. I never saw any agitation in the drivers around us or in our driver. It's just the way it goes.
Half an hour later we arrived at CCS's home base. Here we would be spending the next day and a half. A quick teeth brushing and it was off to bed as we began orientation first thing in the morning.
The heat in India is oppressive. The night we arrived, around midnight, registered at 94 degrees. It had to be close to that at eight thirty the following Monday with a promise to increase as the day progressed. I don't like the heat. The Indians appear unfazed. Life continues as it must. Here a connection to Tununak. Where the cold sucked motivation from me, the village went on with it's business. I don't know what it is, but weather is not as big a deal as I view it to be. It shows up every day, regardless of my desires, so why stress about it.
We landed in New Delhi around ten thirty at night India time. Waiting for us was our driver from Cross Cultural Solutions, Vicky. Wearing jeans, a polo, tennis shoes, and the a turban, Vicky was our guardian for the first part of the Indian adventure. This trend, the blending of Eastern and Western cultures, is present all over India. One other volunteer was on our plane, a recent high school graduate from Guatemala, Isabella, so the four of us made our way to a taxi.
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| Walking to the taxi, in the heat, led by Isabella |
In the taxi we quickly discovered that what is said about driving in India is true. Road rules are not rules as much as they are "guidelines". Even at midnight, the roads are full of life. The first thing I noticed was that the painted lines mean nothing to the drivers, at least in my opinion. If there is an opening in traffic, one must zip through. A courteous honk of the horn alerts the slower vehicle that you are passing or is heard from others when being passed. I have heard it derided as chaos and anarchy. But it is anything but. The diversity of vehicles, from trucks to taxis to small cars to three-wheeled motor rickshaws to bicycles to pedestrians - everyone moves along at there own pace. I never saw any agitation in the drivers around us or in our driver. It's just the way it goes.
Half an hour later we arrived at CCS's home base. Here we would be spending the next day and a half. A quick teeth brushing and it was off to bed as we began orientation first thing in the morning.
The heat in India is oppressive. The night we arrived, around midnight, registered at 94 degrees. It had to be close to that at eight thirty the following Monday with a promise to increase as the day progressed. I don't like the heat. The Indians appear unfazed. Life continues as it must. Here a connection to Tununak. Where the cold sucked motivation from me, the village went on with it's business. I don't know what it is, but weather is not as big a deal as I view it to be. It shows up every day, regardless of my desires, so why stress about it.
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