Here I am sitting in the Delhi smog, trying not to breathe too deeply and inhale the fumes of 20 million plus humanity or the guaranteed unpleasant smells. After 40 hours of travel, missed flights, a shower in the Dubai airport without a provided towel, cold AC naps, stimulating conversation with a Sudanese man working as a social worker in Australia, losing things, finding things, contemplating things, I finally, thankfully, with glee made it.
This entire trip feels like a miracle. Coming to the airport in Anchorage with my last minute errands and seeing people I had wished to see before I left that magically appeared before me, I felt as though I was holding this entire trip together through pure force of will, like a patchwork model airplane that you hope will sure as hell fly after all of the work you put into it. Everything that you could possibly imagine came down to the wire. My loan approval, my camcorder purchase, my packing, my finalization and delegation of hairy official responsibilities, even whether or not I would have a spot on the Anchorage to LA flight. There were delays, miscommunicatations, serendipitous occurences, and hope, lots of hope.
I am beyond grateful for all of the amazing souls that have continued to surprise and support me in this vision. Each one has been a brick placed on the path before me even before I knew where I would take my next step. There is something powerful and unstoppable about this journey. Even in my most terrified spiraling out of control moments, there has been a beacon of light on the horizon.
It is appropriate that I left Delhi 2.5 years ago on my own, I am returning on my own, and I will make this trip my own. I cannot express how liberated I feel in this moment. I am now somewhat refreshened, energized, and ready to eat something savory and delectable, avoid the cows and rickshaws, giggle at the signs that seem to communicate from a collective cultural conscious (“Creative India” on a construction site for example), and bask in the eccentricities that are woven into the fabric of Indian life.
3 Replies to “And it begins….”
Glad to hear you are there. I hear from Malea that you all should be together soon. I am glad to hear the last minute details came together. 40 hours of travel sounds like hell, but I guess it matters little once it is done.
Your writing made me cry again. So envious….make the most of it….for you…and me:D
Kenni benni. I am so glad you made it safe and sound. The spirit guides are with you. Enjoy the beauty of India.