I don't know how to start this post. It's going to be massive. I'm just sitting here smiling as I think of all the wonderful things I have to tell you.
But let's keep it as brief as possible.
Though I stuffed my suitcases to the gills (with BOOKS!), DFW waived my oversize bag fees, saving me $120. Great start.
It's burned into my memory, the moment I left American soil.
When the plane begin to accelerate, and I paid close attention, so I know exactly what it looked like, what it felt like, what song was playing, and how it made me feel. I saw the lights of the cities glimmering in the late evening, caught a glimpse of the captivating Dallas skyline against the night. I felt the plane going faster and faster, and the small jolt as the wheels lifted from the pavement. "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds was playing on my ipod. I felt brilliantly torn, exhilaration and nostalgia tugging me in opposite directions. I felt thankful, incredulous, and overwhelmingly fulfilled.
After that, the flight from Dallas to London was uneventful -- I slept the majority of the time. I breezed through customs and changed some money into 64 British Pounds. I hopped onto the tube (British subway) and rode it into the center of London (after getting off at only ONE incorrect stop! haha - even random neighborhoods are quaint and beautiful in London. I was amazed). I had planned to do the double decker thing and see Big Ben, Houses of Parliament, Westminster bridge, Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, and the London Eye. I couldn't find the info center on foot, however, so I didn't get tickets for the buses or get to go to the Tower of London.
I really enjoyed London. It was just the right temperature and it was everything I expected it to be as far as the tourist attractions go. AND I BET I WAS IN THE SAME POD ON THE LONDON EYE AS EMILY AND JEF. probably not. but maybe so. not that i care. duh, its' whatever. TOTALLY not a big deal. but kind of. seriously.
So, then I flew from London to Bahrain. I hated Heathrow - I expected more modernity. It was dark and disorganized and there was no starbucks and the substitution coffee shop served me terrible chai.
As I was stewing silently, frustrated with how much i disliked Heathrow, however, I had no idea what was waiting for me in Bahrain. Guys, ugh. I ended up staying up on the redeye from London to Bahrain talking to Phil, my chatty British seatmate, and I had to continue to keep myself awake for my 7 hour layover in Bahrain, a Middle Eastern Muslim island country off the coast of Saudi Arabia.
If you can avoid Bahrain - avoid it. There was not one minute i felt safe or comfortable, there is the promise of airport wifi everywhere but no working wifi anywhere, and the whole place was freezing!
At one point I went into the bathroom stall and just sat on the closed toilet because it was warmer in there and I had a moment of privacy away from the leering men. Finally the cleaning crew kicked me out, so I went and sat in a semi-secluded spot, where a bug promptly crawled into my purse - i was shaking with rage and frustration at this point after being so tired and on edge for so long.
I admit, Bahrain made me frightened that the annoyance and burnout i was feeling with this Middle Eastern country would carry over to India. Was I so changed now that India would feel uncomfortable and exhausting? I tried to calm myself, knowing that even if my fears were true, I'd just have to live with them. I found a starbucks (with wifi, yay!) and when the barista saw my name on my credit card she began to serenade me with a song in Hindi about another Julie. That made me smile. Then my 20+ hours of traveled self got to enjoy all the goodness of a latte, and chat a little with some American friends online.
When i went to get on the plane, it was with a crowd of entirely Indian and Bahraini men. We had to board a bus at our terminal to ride to the plane, and no one made way for me or gave up a seat, just pushed their way through and stared at me, intently and uncomfortably. When I walked onto the plane and one of them took a picture of me on his cell phone, a thousand memories came flashing back to me. But instead of being amused and shrugging it off like I always used to, I balked. "I did not come here to be a piece of public property," I thought. "I did not travel here from my home to become a spectacle."
I may never forgive Bahrain for isolating me so; for making me long for a covering kurta and someone, anyone, to stand by my side.
The male attendant on the plane was kind to me, though, and insisted that I take a seat on the roomy exit row away from the men. It reminded me of when waiters in Indian restaurants would seat us as a group of Americans in the finest place in the house - often kicking Indians out of the way for us, though we never asked for it. I half-smiled hopefully... telling myself that after a good night's rest, I would feel more optimistic about my time in Delhi.
But it did not take a good night's rest.
After I finalized everything at the airport, I looked for the driver PMI had sent to pick me up. I didn't find him, and rather than starting a phone chain of worrying mothers and helpful friends, after about an hour I decided just to find a taxi and try to get into an area I recognized. Immediately upon leaving the airport, the honking cars and overstuffed motorcycles assaulted us. There were people sleeping on the side of the road, too many advertisements covering ugly cement buildings, and smells, smells, smells. I took it all in, closed my eyes, and smiled. The feeling of home I remember so fondly had returned despite my Bahrainian fears. All it took was India itself to calm my quavering heart and remind me why I hoped, prayed, and worked so long to get back.
The taxi driver did not know the way to my home. We circled the block numerous times as he grew more and more impatient with me, found the metro station I finally recognized, and I got him to Peter and Heather's house. They were not there. I got in touch with their neighbor, who had their number (and a phone) and called them for me - they were at the airport! They came right after I had left. Peter called his sister Praisey, whose house I am living in along with her and Peter's parents, and she came to take me to my new home, which is a short walk away. My old friend and PMI worker Prabin came to help get my bags up the stairs, and all was well. I spent some time getting reacquainted with Praisey and went to bed.
This morning I woke up and went to the PMI devotional which was conducted mostly in Hindi. That's a daily occurrence that will encourage my study of the language, which begins soon. I went for lunch with Heather and her children after the devotional, and chatted with her about my role and my hopes for my time with them. I loved being with Prakash and Joy, both of whom are running around and chattering away - they are so old, and so cute. I got to paint Joy's toenails: pink, which she has told me so many times is her favorite color. Our lunch was delicious and Indian, and I finished if off with my second chai of the day. I'm back in my room to unpack and recooperate, and I start teaching English tomorrow! This whole place makes me feel like I never left - I'm as content as I've ever been. I'm excited to make this life my own as I get the swing of it, I'm excited to take pictures, I'm excited to be buddies with Prakash and Joy, and I'm excited just to be used as I'm needed.
Heather prayed for me before I left her this afternoon, and ended this way:
Love from Delhi,
Julie the gift.
But let's keep it as brief as possible.
Though I stuffed my suitcases to the gills (with BOOKS!), DFW waived my oversize bag fees, saving me $120. Great start.
It's burned into my memory, the moment I left American soil.
When the plane begin to accelerate, and I paid close attention, so I know exactly what it looked like, what it felt like, what song was playing, and how it made me feel. I saw the lights of the cities glimmering in the late evening, caught a glimpse of the captivating Dallas skyline against the night. I felt the plane going faster and faster, and the small jolt as the wheels lifted from the pavement. "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds was playing on my ipod. I felt brilliantly torn, exhilaration and nostalgia tugging me in opposite directions. I felt thankful, incredulous, and overwhelmingly fulfilled.
After that, the flight from Dallas to London was uneventful -- I slept the majority of the time. I breezed through customs and changed some money into 64 British Pounds. I hopped onto the tube (British subway) and rode it into the center of London (after getting off at only ONE incorrect stop! haha - even random neighborhoods are quaint and beautiful in London. I was amazed). I had planned to do the double decker thing and see Big Ben, Houses of Parliament, Westminster bridge, Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, and the London Eye. I couldn't find the info center on foot, however, so I didn't get tickets for the buses or get to go to the Tower of London.
Instead, I followed the landmarks and gave myself a little walking tour of the things I recognized, starting with the London Eye, moving on to Big Ben, stumbling upon Westminster Abbey (no, I didn't know what it looked like beforehand) (and yes, it is closed to sightseers on Sundays, oops) and wandering through some gardens and by many telephone booths and across the Thames River.
As my dad would say, "Screaming Eagles!"
I took pictures, I had dinner, I had extra money so I paid the fast track fare for the Eye and got to skip the queue :)
I think the best thing for me about London, though, was just the surrounding culture. To see all kinds of people and their European lifestyles and fashion felt different and exciting, it was a great way to ease into my culture change. Arguably even better about London is kids under the age of 6 that speak with British accents. Cute factor multiplier: x10. omg.
I still had ten pounds left over at the end of the day, so I got a deal on three large blocks of Toblerone (or as i like to call it, "emergency chocolate"). yay!So, then I flew from London to Bahrain. I hated Heathrow - I expected more modernity. It was dark and disorganized and there was no starbucks and the substitution coffee shop served me terrible chai.
As I was stewing silently, frustrated with how much i disliked Heathrow, however, I had no idea what was waiting for me in Bahrain. Guys, ugh. I ended up staying up on the redeye from London to Bahrain talking to Phil, my chatty British seatmate, and I had to continue to keep myself awake for my 7 hour layover in Bahrain, a Middle Eastern Muslim island country off the coast of Saudi Arabia.
 |
| [lies!!] |
At one point I went into the bathroom stall and just sat on the closed toilet because it was warmer in there and I had a moment of privacy away from the leering men. Finally the cleaning crew kicked me out, so I went and sat in a semi-secluded spot, where a bug promptly crawled into my purse - i was shaking with rage and frustration at this point after being so tired and on edge for so long.
I admit, Bahrain made me frightened that the annoyance and burnout i was feeling with this Middle Eastern country would carry over to India. Was I so changed now that India would feel uncomfortable and exhausting? I tried to calm myself, knowing that even if my fears were true, I'd just have to live with them. I found a starbucks (with wifi, yay!) and when the barista saw my name on my credit card she began to serenade me with a song in Hindi about another Julie. That made me smile. Then my 20+ hours of traveled self got to enjoy all the goodness of a latte, and chat a little with some American friends online.
When i went to get on the plane, it was with a crowd of entirely Indian and Bahraini men. We had to board a bus at our terminal to ride to the plane, and no one made way for me or gave up a seat, just pushed their way through and stared at me, intently and uncomfortably. When I walked onto the plane and one of them took a picture of me on his cell phone, a thousand memories came flashing back to me. But instead of being amused and shrugging it off like I always used to, I balked. "I did not come here to be a piece of public property," I thought. "I did not travel here from my home to become a spectacle."
I may never forgive Bahrain for isolating me so; for making me long for a covering kurta and someone, anyone, to stand by my side.
The male attendant on the plane was kind to me, though, and insisted that I take a seat on the roomy exit row away from the men. It reminded me of when waiters in Indian restaurants would seat us as a group of Americans in the finest place in the house - often kicking Indians out of the way for us, though we never asked for it. I half-smiled hopefully... telling myself that after a good night's rest, I would feel more optimistic about my time in Delhi.
But it did not take a good night's rest.
After I finalized everything at the airport, I looked for the driver PMI had sent to pick me up. I didn't find him, and rather than starting a phone chain of worrying mothers and helpful friends, after about an hour I decided just to find a taxi and try to get into an area I recognized. Immediately upon leaving the airport, the honking cars and overstuffed motorcycles assaulted us. There were people sleeping on the side of the road, too many advertisements covering ugly cement buildings, and smells, smells, smells. I took it all in, closed my eyes, and smiled. The feeling of home I remember so fondly had returned despite my Bahrainian fears. All it took was India itself to calm my quavering heart and remind me why I hoped, prayed, and worked so long to get back.
The taxi driver did not know the way to my home. We circled the block numerous times as he grew more and more impatient with me, found the metro station I finally recognized, and I got him to Peter and Heather's house. They were not there. I got in touch with their neighbor, who had their number (and a phone) and called them for me - they were at the airport! They came right after I had left. Peter called his sister Praisey, whose house I am living in along with her and Peter's parents, and she came to take me to my new home, which is a short walk away. My old friend and PMI worker Prabin came to help get my bags up the stairs, and all was well. I spent some time getting reacquainted with Praisey and went to bed.
This morning I woke up and went to the PMI devotional which was conducted mostly in Hindi. That's a daily occurrence that will encourage my study of the language, which begins soon. I went for lunch with Heather and her children after the devotional, and chatted with her about my role and my hopes for my time with them. I loved being with Prakash and Joy, both of whom are running around and chattering away - they are so old, and so cute. I got to paint Joy's toenails: pink, which she has told me so many times is her favorite color. Our lunch was delicious and Indian, and I finished if off with my second chai of the day. I'm back in my room to unpack and recooperate, and I start teaching English tomorrow! This whole place makes me feel like I never left - I'm as content as I've ever been. I'm excited to make this life my own as I get the swing of it, I'm excited to take pictures, I'm excited to be buddies with Prakash and Joy, and I'm excited just to be used as I'm needed.
Heather prayed for me before I left her this afternoon, and ended this way:
"Thank you God for all You do for us, and all the good gifts You bring us. Julie is a good gift, and we thank You that You have brought her here."It touched and humbled me to be spoken of in this way. I pray with all my heart I will live up to being nothing but a gift, a blessing, and an encouragement here.
Love from Delhi,
Julie the gift.
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