Being so eager to finally be returning to India, my 6hr flight from KL seemed to last as long as the 20hr flight from the states. The India action of course began as the people on my flight gathered. Nothing too crazy happened but it was enough to put a smile on my face. In fact I couldn't stop smiling. On the plane things began to pick up pace. You know, people standing up as the plane accelerates down the runway and stuff. This time however the strange behavior wasn't so unbelievable to me.
Once the plane had begun its decent I could see the scattered lighting of Delhi appear through the THICK winter smoke/haze that characterizes this place during the season. I could even smell the odor that accompanies this scene before we landed. It's not bad, kind of like a burning pile of not-too-toxic rubbish. To me it’s kind of pleasant. And notably, people were still using the toilet as the plane touched the ground.
My guidebook for Malaysia describes Chinatown in Kuala Lumpur as chaotic, I would love to hear the author's assessment of Delhi. I mean, once I was out of the baggage claim area I had three cabbies trying to lead me out the wrong exit while telling me that this was in fact another way I could go to get to the same place. Despite the fact that I told them I did not need a cab they stuck to me like glue. Crossing through the double doors that dump you in the line of fire one is greeted by maybe 500 glaring Indians and an endless symphony of auto horns.
The further I got from the airport the crazier shit became. Weaving in and out of traffic, dodging cows and pedestrians in poor yet normal visibility, we reached a section of road that was closed. Like any rational person in India we decided it was better to just move to one side and carefully proceed against traffic, on their side of the road. ...I tried to take note of everything that was going on around me but it was impossible.
I awoke the first morning to the sounds of auto horns, various mobile "-wallas", and blaring music and speeches from an unknown Mandir (temple). My hosts have gone out of their way to make sure I have everything I could ask for, but the transition has still provided a bit of a shock. I guess it’s difficult, for me at least, to remember how unpleasant a bucket shower is when standing in a room so cold that one ordinarily wears pants, jacket, and shoes.
Things sure haven't changed here, and yet it’s good to be back.
