Hot, boiling India

Written on December 4th, 2009

I had anticipated a much bigger shock at first. Of course I became quite stranded on the airport at first, not sure whether Carolin would be there or if should make my own way, which was probably the idea if only my cellphone hadn't decided to not function in India. After an accidental phonecall to Sweden via payphone, pondering whether I shouldn't just check into a hotell and find a sim-card the next day I managed to get a hold of Carolin. During my 4 hours of waiting a young indian girl held me company, telling me I had looked sad. (STRESSED more like). She can't have been older than 16 and proudly told me that she was about to get married. Her entire family came to sit with me, asking me questions as to where I was from and if I was married or not.

I finally got into a prepaid taxi to Coloba, hotel Moti. The cabride was amazing. Actually amazing is maybe not the right word. The driver stopped randomly a few times to ask for directions at which I was left alone in the car at which point several child beggars approached my open window, asking me for chocolate or other treats, and if I had had any I would have given it to them, but I didn't even have anything to fill my own rumbling stomach, or anything less than 1000 rupees in my pocket. Sigh.

The driver brought me all the way to the hotel in the red, gleaming, pollution sunset. And that's where I am now after a day of eating out, shopping for various must-haves-in-India and looking at random buildings. I look forward to Tamil Nadu on Sunday, although Mumbai has been enjoyable in it's own hectic, loud way so far. Hurray for FabIndia and my three sets of Indian clothing

Goodbye Europe, Starbucks my secret friend and hello Mother India

Written on December 2nd, 2009

I haven't given christmas as much as the slightest thought this year, not really. Here I am, on my way to India, leaving Dornach and Sweden for a comfortable amount of time. Not too long. Not too short. I've been looking forward to this, a lot. Unconsciously I've been ticking off the days till my departure, every hour, almost to the minute.

It's been a funny last day in Europe. I woke up a little confused and still exhausted by Katha banging on the door, telling us to wake up. Twice. Then I got up, even more tired, and sadly acknowledging my urgent need of a shower. Got dressed and went out into Katha's kitchen to put on some music and do the dishes with Firas. We danced in the kitchen and cleaned it rather thoroughly, danced some more, made about 8 pots of coffee and had fried eggs on newly baked bread from around the corner. (Note, I had honey on my bread, not eggs!)

And now I am suddenly at the airport, having what must be my last soylatte for a while. Damn Starbucks and their delicious lattes... So I'm sitting here with my rupees in my pocket, my Indian (rather INDISKA) gear on, waiting for the nervousness to hit me. Part of me is already on the other side of the globe, part of me wants to leave this place, preferably yesterday.