I have a digital alarm clock that I bought in India solely to ensure that I woke up by 5:00 a.m. in time to catch my plane from Trivandrum to New Delhi on my way back to Chicago. (A caveat: If my cell phone hadn't been unusable in India, this wouldn't have been an issue, because I typically use my cell phone as an alarm and I had expected to be able to do that in India, but that was not to be the case.)
Prior to my departure date, I had verified my checkout time with the lodge manager not once but three times because I knew they didn't typically open up the doors until 7:00 or later in the morning. I'm sure he was sick of talking to me by the time I left, especially after assuring me numerous times that I was allowing myself more than enough time to arrive at the airport if I left at 6:30 a.m. and that everything would be fine.
Finding the clock required a shopping excursion of sorts. Ater taking my life in my hands and dodging all kinds of foot, car and other traffic, I arrived at the three-story mall in a state of relief and quickly found a store that sold all kinds of clocks. Knowing that most people use their cell phones as clocks/alarms/etc. I wasn't sure that any store would even sell alarm clocks, but once I located one, I spent a lot of time wandering around looking at myriad clocks in all shapes and sizes for a basic clock that wouldn't be too complicated to use.
The store owner and his attendant were very patient and showed me numerous clocks until I found one that was lightweight and very reasonably priced (I can be kind of a cheapskate) and I decided to overlook the fact that it played "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" although it was already late January.
I tend to be a little deficient when it comes to such things as setting digital clocks that actually go off when they're supposed to, but I came home feeling confident that I would actually get up on time and arrive at the airport well ahead of schedule. The only problem was that I hadn't factored in how loud the traffic and sounds from the street were. When I tested the alarm clock back at the lodge, I realized that I'd never wake up because I wouldn't hear it.
At this point, I realized that I would have to stay up all night to ensure that I didn't oversleep. It then became a marathon night of watching every cable channel beamed to the Indian subcontinent. I watched talk shows, American television shows, some that I had never watched back home, and a show that appeared to be the Indian version of American Idol. Needless to say,I was relieved (and tired) when I finally realized it was 5:00 a.m.
It was still dark in the hallway when I opened the door and looked out to see if anyone was around. I took a quick shower, wheeled my already packed suitcase after me down the stairs and was relieved to see that manager had already arrived. He smiled at me kindly and tried to resist when I insisted on overpaying my bill because he had been so accomodating, but he finally relented and gave me a quick Indian head bob and suddenly, unexpectedly I teared up and he looked at me in a sympathetic way that made me even more misty eyed.
I realized that in just in the five days I stayed at the lodge, I had developed a routine of sorts--from the knock on the door every morning with one of the hotel staff asking if I wanted an Indian coffee, which is some of the best coffee I've ever had. I usually drank two or three cups, which they seemed to find very amusing; going downstairs to the second floor where the Internet cafe was located; the young man in charge always greeted me really cheerfully, "Hello Miss Gita. How are you today?" Making my way back upstairs to get ready for the day and figure out what I was going to do that day--take an auto rickshaw to the beach, the zoo, the temple, or try to find my way to the Kingsway that sold European groceries, pizza and pastries.
As I flagged down an auto rickshaw to get to the airport, it was finally starting to get light. We took off at breakneck speed narrowly missing other vehicles, cars, people and large and small animals and I already found myself starting to feel nostalgic for India.
Flash forward to the present. I placed my little alarm clock in my bedroom when I returned home and every night since I've been back, it goes off at 2:00 or 3:00 a.m. in the morning and I'm awakened by the digital sounds of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas." I'm sure I could fix it, but for some reason I haven't yet.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
A Higher Law
"I have found that life persists in the midst of destruction
and therefore there must be a higher law than that of destruction.
Only under that law would a well-ordered society
be intelligible and life worth living.
And if that is the law of life,
we have to work it out in daily life."
--Mahatma Gandhi
and therefore there must be a higher law than that of destruction.
Only under that law would a well-ordered society
be intelligible and life worth living.
And if that is the law of life,
we have to work it out in daily life."
--Mahatma Gandhi
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Tepid Trivia
One unanticipated benefit of my recent trip to the Indian subcontinent was that I lost weight. Yay! Last summer I had noticed that my poundage was increasing and I finally broke down and bought a new electronic scale after catching a depressing glimpse of myself in the mirror while helping a friend pick out a wedding gown. Let's just say the number that appeared on the scale was not reader-friendly.
I quickly ramped up plans to "seriously" lose weight, which included a subscription to Weight Watchers online where you have to list everything you eat during the day so you can track the points value. Not fun, but it did seem to work. After three months of being on the plan, I decided that I had memorized the point value of the foods that I eat most frequently and no longer needed to follow the plan so religously (not a good idea), but I seemed to be able to keep my weight from fluctuating wildly during the months running up to my India trip.
When I stopped eating in India, it was primarily because I a)didn't like eating with my hands and didn't have the guts to ask for silverware when noone else was using silverware at the ashram and b) I didn't like their (the ashram's) version of vegetarian food. Once I left the ashram, I was trying not to spend a lot of money by eating one meal out a day and trying to survive on crackers and pineapple for the rest of the time, which had its good and bad moments that I won't elaborate on here.
Anyway, I realized upon returning to my home country that I had lost 14 lbs, but since I was dealing with reverse culture shock (I discussed this in a previous post), it didn't really sink in for a few weeks. Today, eight months later, I am sad to say that I have slowly gained at least ten lbs back. I weighed myself today after a week of not wanting to face reality and was shocked senseless. I told my mother recently that if I gain any more weight, Sarah Palin might just mistake me for a moose and well I don't want to go there...but my mom didn't seem to find that so amusing, "But you don't have horns," she said. Well I guess that about sums things up for now.
I quickly ramped up plans to "seriously" lose weight, which included a subscription to Weight Watchers online where you have to list everything you eat during the day so you can track the points value. Not fun, but it did seem to work. After three months of being on the plan, I decided that I had memorized the point value of the foods that I eat most frequently and no longer needed to follow the plan so religously (not a good idea), but I seemed to be able to keep my weight from fluctuating wildly during the months running up to my India trip.
When I stopped eating in India, it was primarily because I a)didn't like eating with my hands and didn't have the guts to ask for silverware when noone else was using silverware at the ashram and b) I didn't like their (the ashram's) version of vegetarian food. Once I left the ashram, I was trying not to spend a lot of money by eating one meal out a day and trying to survive on crackers and pineapple for the rest of the time, which had its good and bad moments that I won't elaborate on here.
Anyway, I realized upon returning to my home country that I had lost 14 lbs, but since I was dealing with reverse culture shock (I discussed this in a previous post), it didn't really sink in for a few weeks. Today, eight months later, I am sad to say that I have slowly gained at least ten lbs back. I weighed myself today after a week of not wanting to face reality and was shocked senseless. I told my mother recently that if I gain any more weight, Sarah Palin might just mistake me for a moose and well I don't want to go there...but my mom didn't seem to find that so amusing, "But you don't have horns," she said. Well I guess that about sums things up for now.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Random Ruminations
There's nothing like going to a foreign country, especially one with a very different culture than yours, to really make you "see" the world differently. I was prepared for a certain amount of culture shock when I went to India, but after all the research I'd done, what surprised me more was how easily I adjusted to seeing so many people out at all times of the day and night (in urban areas not out in the country), and how quickly I adapted to my new surroundings.
As I see myself as more "beige" than white, it surprised me that my presence in the New Delhi airport waiting to board the flight for Trivandrum seemed to be of interest to a number of people. I was aware of Indians examining me from head to toe with curiosity. It didn't feel rude or intrusive; it just was.
I remember the elderly Indian couple in the terminal who looked like they'd been married for ages and could finish each other's sentences. The man was dressed in a white toga-like outfit and looked sort of distinguished; his wife was somewhat diminutive, but I imagined her to be the family matriarch. They actually seemed very sweet and I envied them their closeness. I sensed they were trying to place me in their frame of reference without being overly obvious about it and were somewhat flummoxed.
For some reason, the few Europeans in the airport seemed to be more easily categorized and didn't elicit as much curiosity. I had sensed this when we were boarding the plane for New Delhi in Newark. I was aware that the South Asians sensed that on some innate level there was something both familiar and unfamiliar about me, but they couldn't quite locate me. They were welcoming to me on the whole and I felt "protected" in a way that I couldn't quite articulate to myself. Was it wishful thinking on my part? I don't think so, but who knows. Maybe being around them made me feel closer to my dad who I had really been missing since he had passed away a year prior to my trip.
Maybe it was just that after years of feeling "different" I still felt different but in a good way. I felt different in a more accepted way and I realized how comforting that can be. That isn't to say that every experience or interaction I had in India was positive. People are people and just like anywhere else, some people can be really nice and some people can be somewhat hostile. I remember the auto rickshaw driver who asked me in an angry tone if I realized that $100 US equals 3,000 rupees on the way to driving me to the American Express currency exchange, as though I was solely responsible for that fact. I tried not to personalize his umbrage and to just accept that to him I represented a very wealthy country. Maybe people feel somewhat differently after the events of these past few weeks with our economy seeming to flatline; I'm really not sure. Then again, maybe not. Everything is relative, as they say.
What really surprised was the reverse culture shock I experienced after just 21 days in India. I remember how Newark airport seemed like a remote spaceship to me when we landed early in the morning. As we queued up to go through customs, everything felt sort of surreal to me. I could see the young South Asian family who had sat next to me on the 15-hour flight just up ahead of me in line joking with the customs official. The husband had told me that he worked for Continental and they lived in Newark. He had been seated in first class, but came back to help his wife take care of the little ones, because the baby was crying and the little boy was restless. Our paths had crossed for fifteen hours and now they were going on with their lives and I was traveling on to Chicago.
There's something about traveling that never fails to amaze me in how one get thrown together with other people for a compressed period of time and suddenly they're gone off in their world and you're off to your little corner of the globe.
I remember being somewhat touched when the customs official said "Welcome home" in a really kind manner after skimming through my documents and asking me what the nature of my trip had been. But what struck me was that everything looked so spanking new and polished and everyone looked so "white."
This "culture shock" continued for days even after I arrived home in the Chicago area. Everywhere I looked, the landscape appeared strange to me and so depopulated. I have to say that this period of assimilation really took by surprise. It was the one area of my trip that I hadn't researched :)
I found myself missing the feeling of proximity to other people - veritable strangers - and that also surprised me. Even though I had cable at the $5 a night lodge I stayed at, as well as at the hotel in New Delhi, there was no television at the ashram and we had to line up to use the pay phones and the Internet. Cell phones were banned, but people used them anyway in the dorms. Mine didn't work on the frequency in India so I got used to being "disconnected" so to speak. I actually have never had cable in the U.S. but upon returning home, American television just seemed so different to me for some reason. Even today, eight months later, I can't quite put my finger on the differences. After all, there are Indian versions of CNN and MSNBC in India along with Seinfeld, Friends and Sex in the City and myriad other channels beaming shows from local Indian television, national Indian television and on and on. I remember seeing one show late at night when I couldn't fall asleep that was beamed from a Gulf state. Men with beards were walking on fire and there were camel races. It looked like something out of Lawrence of Arabia/.
Everything just felt so strange. It's the one thing you don't hear about when researching a trip to India is that when you return home you feel like a foreigner in your own land :)
As I see myself as more "beige" than white, it surprised me that my presence in the New Delhi airport waiting to board the flight for Trivandrum seemed to be of interest to a number of people. I was aware of Indians examining me from head to toe with curiosity. It didn't feel rude or intrusive; it just was.
I remember the elderly Indian couple in the terminal who looked like they'd been married for ages and could finish each other's sentences. The man was dressed in a white toga-like outfit and looked sort of distinguished; his wife was somewhat diminutive, but I imagined her to be the family matriarch. They actually seemed very sweet and I envied them their closeness. I sensed they were trying to place me in their frame of reference without being overly obvious about it and were somewhat flummoxed.
For some reason, the few Europeans in the airport seemed to be more easily categorized and didn't elicit as much curiosity. I had sensed this when we were boarding the plane for New Delhi in Newark. I was aware that the South Asians sensed that on some innate level there was something both familiar and unfamiliar about me, but they couldn't quite locate me. They were welcoming to me on the whole and I felt "protected" in a way that I couldn't quite articulate to myself. Was it wishful thinking on my part? I don't think so, but who knows. Maybe being around them made me feel closer to my dad who I had really been missing since he had passed away a year prior to my trip.
Maybe it was just that after years of feeling "different" I still felt different but in a good way. I felt different in a more accepted way and I realized how comforting that can be. That isn't to say that every experience or interaction I had in India was positive. People are people and just like anywhere else, some people can be really nice and some people can be somewhat hostile. I remember the auto rickshaw driver who asked me in an angry tone if I realized that $100 US equals 3,000 rupees on the way to driving me to the American Express currency exchange, as though I was solely responsible for that fact. I tried not to personalize his umbrage and to just accept that to him I represented a very wealthy country. Maybe people feel somewhat differently after the events of these past few weeks with our economy seeming to flatline; I'm really not sure. Then again, maybe not. Everything is relative, as they say.
What really surprised was the reverse culture shock I experienced after just 21 days in India. I remember how Newark airport seemed like a remote spaceship to me when we landed early in the morning. As we queued up to go through customs, everything felt sort of surreal to me. I could see the young South Asian family who had sat next to me on the 15-hour flight just up ahead of me in line joking with the customs official. The husband had told me that he worked for Continental and they lived in Newark. He had been seated in first class, but came back to help his wife take care of the little ones, because the baby was crying and the little boy was restless. Our paths had crossed for fifteen hours and now they were going on with their lives and I was traveling on to Chicago.
There's something about traveling that never fails to amaze me in how one get thrown together with other people for a compressed period of time and suddenly they're gone off in their world and you're off to your little corner of the globe.
I remember being somewhat touched when the customs official said "Welcome home" in a really kind manner after skimming through my documents and asking me what the nature of my trip had been. But what struck me was that everything looked so spanking new and polished and everyone looked so "white."
This "culture shock" continued for days even after I arrived home in the Chicago area. Everywhere I looked, the landscape appeared strange to me and so depopulated. I have to say that this period of assimilation really took by surprise. It was the one area of my trip that I hadn't researched :)
I found myself missing the feeling of proximity to other people - veritable strangers - and that also surprised me. Even though I had cable at the $5 a night lodge I stayed at, as well as at the hotel in New Delhi, there was no television at the ashram and we had to line up to use the pay phones and the Internet. Cell phones were banned, but people used them anyway in the dorms. Mine didn't work on the frequency in India so I got used to being "disconnected" so to speak. I actually have never had cable in the U.S. but upon returning home, American television just seemed so different to me for some reason. Even today, eight months later, I can't quite put my finger on the differences. After all, there are Indian versions of CNN and MSNBC in India along with Seinfeld, Friends and Sex in the City and myriad other channels beaming shows from local Indian television, national Indian television and on and on. I remember seeing one show late at night when I couldn't fall asleep that was beamed from a Gulf state. Men with beards were walking on fire and there were camel races. It looked like something out of Lawrence of Arabia/.
Everything just felt so strange. It's the one thing you don't hear about when researching a trip to India is that when you return home you feel like a foreigner in your own land :)
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Post-India Ruminations
I have neglected this blog for some months now. Since the blog was supposed to be all about planning my trip to India earlier this year, I haven't had anything to add since returning to the states this past February. So I've decided that going forward, this blog will be post-India ruminations, which is a little more all encompassing.
So I've been back for almost eight months now. I was just reading my earlier posts and it seems like a lifetime ago that I was planning my trip to India with anticipation and some trepidation. Sometimes it seems that some things were just meant to be. I had always wanted to travel to India, but after my father passed away exactly two years ago today, I began to realize that I needed to go to India to reclaim a part of me that I had never really had (my Indian heritage). I don't think I ever would have had the courage to travel to India alone if certain events in my life, such as losing my father, had not taken place. At times, life just seems to throw you into the eye of the storm and turn you upside down and you have no choice but to "ride the wave" of whatever life throws at you.
I'll never forget sitting on that plane and hearing the pilot inform us that we would be landing in New Delhi in a few moments. For some reason, all the babies started crying at the same time and as the lights dimmed for landing, I felt my fears and anxieties about the trip slowly start to slip away from me. On some level, I knew I'd be ok.
I felt so happy to finally be in India all these years later after hearing my father's stories about growing up in a small village in northern India (although I spent most of my time in South India). I felt closer to my father while I was in India and that stark sense of loss was muted; it was very comforting to me. More to come...
So I've been back for almost eight months now. I was just reading my earlier posts and it seems like a lifetime ago that I was planning my trip to India with anticipation and some trepidation. Sometimes it seems that some things were just meant to be. I had always wanted to travel to India, but after my father passed away exactly two years ago today, I began to realize that I needed to go to India to reclaim a part of me that I had never really had (my Indian heritage). I don't think I ever would have had the courage to travel to India alone if certain events in my life, such as losing my father, had not taken place. At times, life just seems to throw you into the eye of the storm and turn you upside down and you have no choice but to "ride the wave" of whatever life throws at you.
I'll never forget sitting on that plane and hearing the pilot inform us that we would be landing in New Delhi in a few moments. For some reason, all the babies started crying at the same time and as the lights dimmed for landing, I felt my fears and anxieties about the trip slowly start to slip away from me. On some level, I knew I'd be ok.
I felt so happy to finally be in India all these years later after hearing my father's stories about growing up in a small village in northern India (although I spent most of my time in South India). I felt closer to my father while I was in India and that stark sense of loss was muted; it was very comforting to me. More to come...
Saturday, February 9, 2008
I Did It!
I conquered my fears and traveled to India and now I can really "breathe." It's interesting because I titled a pre-trip post "Breathe,"(about my trip anxiety), and at the Sivananda ashram in Neyar Dam (Kerala) where I stayed for ten days, we learned about breathing deeply and not shallowly as we in the west tend to do. I've had a few really bad sinus headaches since I returned and when I start to breath deeply, the headache seems to go away almost miraculously.
So my big fear about not being met at the airport in New Delhi was unfounded. A man from the hotel met me holding a sign with my name on it along with the hundreds of other people holding signs. Luckily my flight arrived at 9:30 p.m., which I'm told is a relatively peaceful time compared to 1:30 or 2:00 a.m. in the morning - the time most international flights arrive. On the flight from Newark to Delhi I was seated next to a young man (young to me now that I'm in my 40s) whose family is originally from New Delhi. He works in NYC in the financial services sector and was returning home for a wedding, but his parents actually live in Finland! He was very reassuring about my trip. He said he thought the yoga vacation in South India would be relaxing for me. We also had some interesting talks about politics and whether the new mini car that had just been introduced by Tata motors would take off in India. (Those long international flights bring out some rambling discourses).
Once I got to the airport and was going through immigration, a nice american man let me borrow his pen and offered to wait for me while I went to check if the hotel had met me. He told me not to leave the airport unless I felt secure about the taxi driver taking taking me to my destination. He also said if necessary, I could just stay overnight at the airport (pay to stay in a lounge area, which I'd also read about on indiamike.com). I was very grateful for his kindness. This is turning into a blow by blow account of my trip, but suffice it to say, I'm glad I went and it did change me in small ways and more momentous ways. I'm still processing everything in my mind so I'll end here, but it's a great feeling to conquer your fears. Yippee!!!!!!!!!!
Btw, here's a link to photos of my trip:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/23453793@N03/
And a big shout out to indiamike.com. I never would have survived this trip without all the wonderful advice from the kind folks on that forum.
So my big fear about not being met at the airport in New Delhi was unfounded. A man from the hotel met me holding a sign with my name on it along with the hundreds of other people holding signs. Luckily my flight arrived at 9:30 p.m., which I'm told is a relatively peaceful time compared to 1:30 or 2:00 a.m. in the morning - the time most international flights arrive. On the flight from Newark to Delhi I was seated next to a young man (young to me now that I'm in my 40s) whose family is originally from New Delhi. He works in NYC in the financial services sector and was returning home for a wedding, but his parents actually live in Finland! He was very reassuring about my trip. He said he thought the yoga vacation in South India would be relaxing for me. We also had some interesting talks about politics and whether the new mini car that had just been introduced by Tata motors would take off in India. (Those long international flights bring out some rambling discourses).
Once I got to the airport and was going through immigration, a nice american man let me borrow his pen and offered to wait for me while I went to check if the hotel had met me. He told me not to leave the airport unless I felt secure about the taxi driver taking taking me to my destination. He also said if necessary, I could just stay overnight at the airport (pay to stay in a lounge area, which I'd also read about on indiamike.com). I was very grateful for his kindness. This is turning into a blow by blow account of my trip, but suffice it to say, I'm glad I went and it did change me in small ways and more momentous ways. I'm still processing everything in my mind so I'll end here, but it's a great feeling to conquer your fears. Yippee!!!!!!!!!!
Btw, here's a link to photos of my trip:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/23453793@N03/
And a big shout out to indiamike.com. I never would have survived this trip without all the wonderful advice from the kind folks on that forum.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Surreal moments in India
Hearing a muzak version of Chicago's "If you leave me now" and other hits from the 70's while waiting for take off and landing on Air Deccan.
Watching the Sound of Music on Indian television because everything was closed for Republic Day this past Saturday; watching old Seinfeld reruns; watching the indian media go crazy speculating whether Sarkozy's girlfriend was going to show up on this state visit and accompany him to the Taj Mahal.
More to come...
Watching the Sound of Music on Indian television because everything was closed for Republic Day this past Saturday; watching old Seinfeld reruns; watching the indian media go crazy speculating whether Sarkozy's girlfriend was going to show up on this state visit and accompany him to the Taj Mahal.
More to come...
Top Ten India Faux Paus
Did I spell that right? Well here I am in India at an Internet cafe at the lodge I'm staying at (Omkar lodge). I lasted ten days at the ashram; it was definitely a worthwhile experience, but I got tired of the vegetarian food and getting up a 5:00 a.m. to meditate for two hours, and then two hours of yoga in the morning and the afternoon. All that said, I feel that I finally learned how to do yoga the "right" way and I plan to continue doing yoga every day when I return home. Plus, I met people from all over the world: Israel, Iran, Poland, Ireland, Germany. The scenery at Neyyar Dam where the ashram is located is beautiful. I would recommend the ashram experience to anyone who is looking to recharge their batteries and get a fresh perspective on their life.
So I left without having a room booked and the place I was able to find a room on short notice was here at this hostel. The rooms are spartan and as described in one of the guide books, "cramped but clean with noisy traffice from the street," but having Internet and phone access at reasonable rates makes up for the lack of other amenities.
So what was the topic of this blog again? Top then faux paus...using the ATM across the street and getting trapped in it until I figured out that I needed to press a switch to open the door (an auto rickshaw driver was gesturing at me to see if I needed a lift and a policeman thought he was harassing me and approached him). Over tipping and getting strange looks from the guy who brings the bug night light at night and the coffee in the a.m.; finding out that not much is open on Monday; going to the beach at Kovalum and not realizing that I had to pay to use the beach chair; wearing my blue indian blouse with sweats (I got some weird looks from Indian men and women on the street, but I was trying to adhere to the more conservative dress code), taking a picture of the intricate ceiling at the museum in Trivandrum and not noticing the signs forbidding photos in the museum; they nearly took my film away. That's only six; I have to come up with four more...
Well that's enough for now. I leave Wed. for New Delhi.
So I left without having a room booked and the place I was able to find a room on short notice was here at this hostel. The rooms are spartan and as described in one of the guide books, "cramped but clean with noisy traffice from the street," but having Internet and phone access at reasonable rates makes up for the lack of other amenities.
So what was the topic of this blog again? Top then faux paus...using the ATM across the street and getting trapped in it until I figured out that I needed to press a switch to open the door (an auto rickshaw driver was gesturing at me to see if I needed a lift and a policeman thought he was harassing me and approached him). Over tipping and getting strange looks from the guy who brings the bug night light at night and the coffee in the a.m.; finding out that not much is open on Monday; going to the beach at Kovalum and not realizing that I had to pay to use the beach chair; wearing my blue indian blouse with sweats (I got some weird looks from Indian men and women on the street, but I was trying to adhere to the more conservative dress code), taking a picture of the intricate ceiling at the museum in Trivandrum and not noticing the signs forbidding photos in the museum; they nearly took my film away. That's only six; I have to come up with four more...
Well that's enough for now. I leave Wed. for New Delhi.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Breathe...
When I'm nervous about doing something new and different, whether it's an interview, the first day at a a new job or assignment, or leaving on a trip to India, sometimes I just tell myself to "breathe." I'm not saying that it always works, but it's better than just giving in to my pre-interview/job/flight jitters. Another strategy I use is to tell myself over and over again that "half the battle is just getting yourself there." When I was in college, I remember reading that someone famous used to tell people "just showing up is the hard part" or something to that extent and I have to say when panic strikes, just focusing on "showing up" is doable for me.
So I depart for India on Friday. Can I really believe I'm going? Is it starting to sink in? I guess so. I've almost done packing and my suitcase is bursting at the seams (one of those black ones with rollers). My purse is going to feel like it's carrying weights - well the book that I'm planning to read on the plane and the folder with all my print outs of hotel confirmations along with a couple of magazines...I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say I had to move the umbrella to my suitcase.
I broke down and borrowed a bunch of guide books on Southern India as well as "The Rough Guide to India" from the library, and am attempting to speed through them before Friday. Better late than never, I guess. I'm taking one book on the plane to read (it's not due until I return). I never thought I would be such a pack rat, but I have managed to stuff so much into my suitcase that there will barely be room to bring anything back.
I discovered earlier this week that my cell phone won't operate on the frequencies in India. It's funny how the prospect of not having a working cell phone made me feel somewhat helpless. Then I had to remind myself that I survived at least 32 years without one. (I'm taking it anyway so I'll have it when I return to the U.S. if that makes any sense.) The helpful T-Mobile guy did tell me that I could check my cell phone messages from any phone using an 800 number. No I'm not getting a commission from T-Mobile, but I was happy to hear that.
On a related note, I bought an international calling card last week only to discover that it works in Indonesia, the Netherlands, Europe...just not in India. So plan B is to buy one in the New Delhi airport. If someone happens to stumble upon this blog and actually read it, maybe they will learn from my mistakes.
On a positive note, I have confirmed my arrival with the hotel in New Dehli. Fingers crossed that someone will be there to meet me, but it's looking extremely promising. So to wrap up, I hope to update my blog somewhat frequently. We'll see if that holds...
So I depart for India on Friday. Can I really believe I'm going? Is it starting to sink in? I guess so. I've almost done packing and my suitcase is bursting at the seams (one of those black ones with rollers). My purse is going to feel like it's carrying weights - well the book that I'm planning to read on the plane and the folder with all my print outs of hotel confirmations along with a couple of magazines...I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say I had to move the umbrella to my suitcase.
I broke down and borrowed a bunch of guide books on Southern India as well as "The Rough Guide to India" from the library, and am attempting to speed through them before Friday. Better late than never, I guess. I'm taking one book on the plane to read (it's not due until I return). I never thought I would be such a pack rat, but I have managed to stuff so much into my suitcase that there will barely be room to bring anything back.
I discovered earlier this week that my cell phone won't operate on the frequencies in India. It's funny how the prospect of not having a working cell phone made me feel somewhat helpless. Then I had to remind myself that I survived at least 32 years without one. (I'm taking it anyway so I'll have it when I return to the U.S. if that makes any sense.) The helpful T-Mobile guy did tell me that I could check my cell phone messages from any phone using an 800 number. No I'm not getting a commission from T-Mobile, but I was happy to hear that.
On a related note, I bought an international calling card last week only to discover that it works in Indonesia, the Netherlands, Europe...just not in India. So plan B is to buy one in the New Delhi airport. If someone happens to stumble upon this blog and actually read it, maybe they will learn from my mistakes.
On a positive note, I have confirmed my arrival with the hotel in New Dehli. Fingers crossed that someone will be there to meet me, but it's looking extremely promising. So to wrap up, I hope to update my blog somewhat frequently. We'll see if that holds...
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