7 Days In India - Travelling

November 22, 2pm - Calgary Airport

I slept like a baby, and awoke thinking rather calmly: I'm going to India today.

I'll admit that I was teary-eyed, saying "goodbye" to all my little ones, and my sweet 5 year old was wailing and clinging to me, determined to keep me from going out the front door.  For a few minutes, my heart was shut inside the entryway of our home, with my children, as we drove away towards Calgary.  Would my little ones survive without me?  Would my little baby (only 23 months) grow up and learn all sorts of things while I was away?

Well, those worries all blew away as we traversed the highway from Lethbridge to Calgary.  In fact, we were quite literally blown with the incredible blast of wind that was gusting in from the mountains, towards us.  As we left our home, where was a wind warning for our area and tumble weeds - and some vehicles, even, were blowing forcefully across the highway and into the ditch!  (We saw one overturned trailer along Highway 2.)

We enjoyed a last "Canadian meal" - actually, we had sushi and terryaki beef - before we dropped our van off and hopped onto a shuttle to go to the airport.  I have to say that it was in that moment, as we left the van and everything familiar behind, that it suddenly began to feel real!  With a panicked look, I counted and re-counted our baggage - just 5 bags?  How could there be so few?  Then Dan and I smiled at one another, realising that we were without kids!  Yippeee!!! Free---eee---dommmmm!  It certainly simplified things when it came to traveling.

The reality of India came even closer to us when we were dropped off at the airport doors, right behind an Indian family all dressed for their pilgrimage home.  It reminded me of our last missions experience, on our way to Thailand.  When we lined up for our trans-Pacific flight in L.A., we were the ONLY white people... and we had 3 little blond-haired, blue-eyed children that only served to further single us out as the only non-Asians traveling on the flight.  It was so exciting, knowing that we were about to experience something so different and life changing!

Well, it's about time to board and Dan just switched his clock to India standard time: 3:12am.  Sheesh... it's already tomorrow and our journey has just begun.

On the plane, just after take-off:

I just heard an interesting announcement from the flight attendant - The first-class compartment will be served meals from the menu, created by top chefs.  The economy class will be served "carefully selected meals and beverages".  Hmmm... should I be jealous?  Just what does a "carefully selected meal" taste like?  What does it mean?  Apparently, it means delicious, as this picture below will show you.  And if fact, it was quite tasty - for airline food. 

"Delicious Meal" as seen on the orange label...

Amsterdam Airport - 9:50am

Although we are not yet in India, the Indian culture was beginning to press upon me - literally!  we were lined up in a switchback roped-off area, passing through airport security in order to board our plane to Delhi.  At this point, there were very few white people in our midst and I got a real taste of the manner in which Indians interact and relate in a crowd.  I noticed right away that the idea of "personal space" was not understood by Indians the way it is understood, and upheld, by Canadians.  Continually, I could feel the people in line behind me pressing closer, jostling my backpack and even making me wonder if I should keep an eye on my valuables!  Then, when the boarding call came, the entire crowd was pushing forward, all eager to acquire prime baggage space for their carry-on items, and settle themselves into their seats comfortably.  This was a lot different than I was used to, being a conservative Canadian, but I figured I'd better get used to it considering I'd soon be staying in a city inhabited by 20,000,000 people!

Next stop... India!

7 Days In India - Quick Impressions

No, this isn't where we're staying... this is the Prime Minister's house in Delhi!

Well, we've hardly been here for more than 12 hours, but we are attempting to immerse ourselves into the culture and went out for lunch today with the pastor, who also showed us a few sights.  Along the way, I saw many unusual and colorful examples of India's culture - all on the side of the road.  Here's a very brief and slightly humorous take on some of the elements of my Indian experience thus far.

Things to do on the side of the road in Delhi:

1.  Get your head shaved by an experienced road-side barber.

2.  Face yourself away from traffic and go pee.  (Yes, seriously, I saw at least 4 guys peeing on the side of the road since we've arrived!)

3.  Avoid the herd of stray, mangy dogs or just lay down on the grass and hang out with them.

4.  Get a treat from the "Mother Dairy" ice cream vendor with his rickshaw cart.

5.  Hang up your laundry in a tree to dry and become breezy fresh - if you like the pollution/urine/incense-scented dryer sheet smell, that is.

That's all for now!  Stay tuned and I'll post more of our trip's adventures very soon!

7 Days in India - Background

My love affair with India started many years ago.  My first neighborhood that I can remember, was in the heart of Northeast Calgary, and we were surrounded by "foreigners" - gorgeous people with dark eyes; bronzed skin and rich, black hair - unless it was covered up by a turban.  To be honest, the men with turbans scared me a little bit - but not because I was racist in any way - I was a modern-world child, raised on Sesame Street, and indoctrinated with the mindset that we should love everyone and accept everybody; no matter their skin colour.

No, the reason turbans signaled a slight fear in me as a child resulted from a slight incident involving myself and my brother one afternoon.  He was helping me ride his two wheeler, and I steered poorly, careening into somebody's parked car!  We ended up causing the side-view mirror to be knocked to the side and I think it was even a little broken!  A dark skinned man in a salmon colored turban came running down his front walkway, yelling at us "dumb kids" for crashing into his vehicle.  Innocent as we were, at around 5 and 7 years of age, we still held responsibility in damaging this man's car.  Thankfully my father was nearby and made amends, promising to make the mirror as good as new. (And of course, we were in big trouble!)

What I remember in particular about my desire to see India starts with a church service in the earlier part of my teen years.  A man came to our church one day to talk about his life as a pastor in India.  He was a man that seemed to be clothed in humility - not trying to impress us with his manner of speech or dress; but a sincere, truly grateful man who wanted to be a blessing to our rich, comfortable North American congregation.  His black hair was speckled with grey and there were lines of fatigue and stress on his forehead.  You could tell that he was a man who had been through much in his lifetime... a man who had given much.  And indeed, he told us stories of the persecution he and his wife and children faced as believers in a resistant culture.  This is not just name-calling and unpopularity that they suffered, but real, physical persecution.

He told us of the unwanted, the orphans and the desolate lives of those living in slums.  He also told of of the atrocity of bride burning - where young women are literally burned alive because their family cannot offer an adequate dowry for their daughters.  Some women, who manage to escape, are terribly disfigured from the violent abuse and are reduced to being outcasts, with no hope or future to speak of.  As a very young woman, I was completely horrified and heart-broken at the thought of these events.

Since then, I had a deep desire to travel to this land of intense culture... so rich and vibrant and crowded and apparently smelly!  Surprisingly, the closest I have come thus far to a deeper understanding of Indian culture was in the small industrial city of Sriracha, Thailand, when we lived there as missionaries 6 years ago.  We had a family living directly across from us, and beside us in our community who were from India!  My neighbor, Madpa was kind and helpful and her husband was a manager in a factory nearby.  It seemed that Indians made successful managers and often worked in Thailand because they were more naturally assertive and motivated than the locals tended to be.  I would often hear through our open windows the pleasant sound of Madpa and her family chattering amicably with one another in Hindi or some other Indian dialect.  Another memory I have was how Madpa and her friend from across the street would lace up their runners, and dressed in their beautiful, colorful saris, would go for an early evening walk almost every night!  I secretly wished I could join them, but just didn't feel "cool" enough... after all, I was just a shy white girl in Thailand... and they were gorgeous, talkative Indian women.

Now my bags are packed for our trip to India and I am cautiously excited for our journey to begin.  The caution comes from the thought that we just need to get ourselves on the plane, on our way, and then I can really relax and become excited about the adventure that is about to unfold.  Now I will really get to visit India - not in documentary form or on the pages of a magazine, but in real life with full-color and full-smell!