Episode 2

After about an hour and a half of sleep, I said goodbye to the cushy bed in my hotel room and rushed to Heathrow airport. Naturally, given my Davis gene for impulsive earliness, I ended up sitting in Heathrow for about 2 hours before my gate even opened. The laws of aero-transit must have sensed my anticipation and of course, my flight was delayed. On the plane, I sat next to a really nice man who was going home after a business trip in New York. When choosing a film to watch, he pointed me towards the Bollywood film “Wanted”, most definitely an entertaining choice as I watched the Indian version of Vin Diesel beat up thugs with his big muscles and dashing good looks. I was so exhausted that I finally slept a little, and soon we arrived in Delhi.

As I began to see the lights of Delhi and we descended into the urban space, a sudden surge of shock finally hit me. “What the hell am I doing here”… I quickly set aside my anxiety and got off the plane, went through customs, and collected my luggage. I would say the one thing I was most nervous about was meeting up with my driver, who was to collect me at the arrival terminal at 2 am. And of course, I couldn’t find him. Slight panic. But the one thing I am beginning to realize about India is panic will get you nowhere fast. I sat down, called my coordinator, and low and behold a tall young man with “Gwenth” scribbled on a piece of paper found the half asleep girl with the enormous backpack.

We then got in his car and the real adventure began. After jetting out of the airport parking lot, I also quickly realized that there are no rules on Indian highways. Honking is used more frequently than turn signals and there is no “right of way” for anyone. You think that you can mentally prepare yourself for a trip like this, at least a little, but nothing is as shocking as those first 30 min. That first car ride on the dirt roads, whiff of Delhi air, or the first scrap metal structure tucked on the side of the road with a small light peering from the cracks, indicating that people do in fact live in such places. My respect for those actually working in the field of development and global poverty immediately grew- those who have the ability to live at the extremes of two very different worlds, yet are able to imagine a place in between.

When I finally got to the apartment, it was very different from what I expected, but I was pleasantly surprised. It was very simple, but clean, and I went to my room to get settled. It was about 4 am by the time I finally got into bed, and you would never believe the ruckus that was occurring outside my room. Windows in India are in no way sound proof, and you hear EVERYTHING. Thank goodness for the modern marvel they call earplugs.