The beginning

Well...I'm one step closer to accomplishing my goal. I'm in Asia. Only two more continents to go.

My two housemates, Teresa, Michelle and I, left our humble Brampton abode on Monday (my brother brady's birthday) at 3:30 in the afternoon. The toronto airport was smooth and boring. It's been a while since I haven't had to go through US customs and I forgot how much easier travelling is when you avoid the States. As we were about to board I used every Toronto second I had to call my credit card companies etc...to prepare for my travels. While doing so I ran into Stetson, a guy I play ultimate with. It's a small world when even at Pearson you run into familiar faces. Even though it was a pretty low-key exit, flying out of Toronto ALWAYS thrills me. I love walking to board the plane and seeing the HSBC ads. It is honestly ridiculously exciting for me: these ads are always clever.

The 21 hour journey (from time leaving home until landing in Delhi) was relatively eventless. Delhi is 9.5 hours ahead of Toronto so 'losing a day' was fun. The eight hour flight to Belgium was interesting and a welcome to stereotypical Indian culture: I had the privilege of sitting beside an Indian man who cleared his throat and nasal passages incessantly...for eight hours. And he stared. At me. A lot.

Belgium was nice, at least the airport view was. We didnt buy any Belgian chocolate this time but if we behave over the next six weeks well get some in August when we meet brussels again. We loaded in Brussels and took another eight hour flight to Delhi. This flight had a bit more of an Indian flair with respect to the food that was being served. Good prep I suppose. I learned that i really need to build up my spice tolerance.

We landed in Delhi just after nine pm (just before noon back home). I was told by multiple folks that India is hot, there are aggressive pickpocketers, folks will stare and caress women and it smells like urine and feces. Well, I exited the airport expecting all of this but found only one to be true. It didn't smell, the people weren't aggressive and I didn't get robbed. It was/is hot, though. It was late in the evening and it was 30 degrees with 85% humidity. Oy vey.

Michelle had arranged for a dude from the hostel to pick us up so away we went. My initial observations on this late night drive were: Teresa glistens when she sweats. They drive on the left hand side of the road (astute, I know) as they are a former British colony. There really are cows everywhere. Dogs aren't as common. The driving is just like the Dominican, tamer actually and the cars are in better shape. In all of my travels I have never seen so many people sleeping in the streets: some on monuments, sidewalks, bed frames set up ten in a row, on their rickshaws (little taxi things like on the amazing race) etc...but there were a lot of people sleeping on the streets. I learned that it can be quite uncomfortable to have your feet swell (mine were ginormous last night). There are places of worship everywhere...literally everywhere. And my final observation from this drive was that there are two universal languages if you will: Domino's pizza and John Deere. They are both present here in Delhi, and most other places I've travelled.

Last night after settling in to our hostel the three of us decided we would go to a local establishment for some food and an official 'welcome to India' beverage. We walked into the dimly lit place and took our seats, but conversation was non-existent as a band overpowered any hope for other noise. This band consisted of a lead male singer, two female singers, a keyboardist and two male percussionists. It was incredible what they could create with little music. Now, imma be honest here. I've had quite the judgemental and stereotypical view of Indians based on my Ontario interactions with them. I generally think their traditional music sounds like the mourning of dying cats. There is nothing about Indian music that appeals to me. I honestly tried but stupendously failed at finding the beauty in such music. Then this last spring a student at my school shared some traditional  Indian dance in an assembly. I can't remember details but I do remember her saying there were a boatload of hand actions...a boatload. And these hand gestures are quite important to the story if the music (I believe). Then last night as the three if us were in our world of silence, surrounded by the noise if traditional India, I began to get it. The audience of all men, the three of us being the only exceptions, were in tune with the stories if the music. They all, at one point or another, were expressing their unity with the music through the orchestrated hand gestures. I became lost in the beautiful scene. The music became beautiful to me last night. I was able to begin to appreciate its stories, it's ability to unite and connect, it's intricacies and detail and it's deep cultural relevance. I am in India. 

Is this real life?