Sorry it took forever

Sorry. This is the first time since Sunday, so two nights, I have had before I could relax. This past two days has been crazy and granted I’ve seen every Bollywood movie under the sun, I have memories of when I was five, and all the other reasons , there was major culture shock. Ok, let me backtrack here by a few days first.
Sunday we left for Saint Louis Lambert at about one in the afternoon. We got there by three and we basically did nothing. Vick and I ate pizza at the pasta house but it wasn’t worth it. The pizza was so blah plain and thin and the waitress was sweet but it took her way too long to get from point a to point b. Just not worth it but getting my mom pissed off kinda was. Our flight for O’hare didn’t leave until five and she just sat there I we were gonna be late even though it was barely four.
So we said our goodbyes. Yea I was sad but I know I’m coming back in a few weeks so no biggie. My mom would probably produce waterworks if I wasn’t going to judge her. Security wasn’t really a problem for me at least. My mom on the other hand, surprise surprise, had so much gold and metal on they had to pat her down. I don’t think I have ever been to a place where my mom passed a metal detector without complications. The plane boarded pretty much then and let me tell you, I wanted to get off it almost right away. You see, my mother insisted we sit next to each other. Personally, I wouldn’t have cared but I can see why she did so I didn’t say much. Because of this though, my mom and I had the only seats on the plane left together, right next to the engine. Awesome, I know. Loud, which wasn’t too bad, but I kept thinking if that engine blows up, I’m first to go. That fear lasted for not too long. Once we got to Chicago I was just so in awe of Chicago at night like that I just kind of forgot. That, almost made me cry. Made me kind of homesick again. There is just this sense of comfort when I’m back there. I know a lot of you couldn’t want more than to get out of there but I love it.
By this time, it was 6. Getting off the plane and going all the way to gate L did happen with very little problems. When we got three it only took a few minutes before my mom’s friend showed up and they sat there and chatted. I called up Hannah and spoke to here for a few minutes. I tried calling Dani first because the two of us were supposed to be at O’Hare at the same time but that didn’t work out too well. Hannah, however was ablt to keep me pretty entertained so it was alright. Thanks Hannah. If anything happens to me out here she was the connection to the western world I had.
We boarded around 7ish and that went well without complications. (My mom and I can do that pretty well without wanting to kill each other). I did ok on the plane. I only hate the popping of the ears which was more of nuisance than anything . I just liked watching how high we were going and mainly, how cold it got. The coldest I remember it being was -77F when we were over northern Canada. That was kinda cool. We quickly were served food though; the choices were chicken or vegetarian Indian. Either way, the food sucked im assuming but I picked the vegetarian Indian. Dull chole and curry panerry with some muttar and rice and then little side dishes. All, dull. I was really just jealous of the lady next to me who had three of those small bottles of chardonnay. She much have good all warm with all of that. She was a white woman, shocker I know, white people going to india, and was doing something for software. She is helping create something for zoo’s that allow them to research and keep track of the animal’s gene’s or something. Truthfully, I didn’t care.
The flight wasn’t all that bad. I took an antihistamine hoping I could sleep but I had no idea was time it was and didn’t care or I would be even more so confused. When the time zone is changing that fast you just stop caring about time. I tried just going off of my watch which was still set on Central time and even though I had that to go off of and the pill kicked in I still didn’t crash for another four hours. I watched Nights in Rodanthe, (it was good btw but not as amazing at the notebook) and then finally passed out. For only an hour though. I work up frequently, mainly because I couldn’t get comfortable. My mom said at one point the lady sitting next to her, who was in the middle of the five seats, asked my mom to wake me up so she could go to the bathroom. My mom snapped at her and told her to wake up her own kid and husband and there was no reason to wake me up. The woman, my mom said, sat there for a few more moments before she got up woke up her husband. So, I slept most of the time there, wached a few episodes of the Office and by then it was about 6 in the morning(central time, 5ish india time) and I couldn’t sleep anymore. We were supposed to land soon and they were serving food. Those few hours passed be fast just being fed an all which was nice. So we landed all well except for my ears popping really bad. The left hurt for a while even after we landed.
Flight landed, went to immigration, and there was my uncle. There was no way you could miss him. He’s one of the tallest men I met, close to 7 foot im guessing. My mom asked if I saw him and I told her there was no way you can miss a really tall guy at an airport full of short Indian men. Let me tell you something though, there was no security. It exists at the Delhi airport but an oldian Indian guy walking around in a brown government uniform doesn’t constitute as security in my book. My cousin, Sonali, told me that’s how it is. They care for maybe three days and everything is very secure and then that’s it. I wouldn’t have been too concerned except when you got outside the airport holy crap there a thousands of people. Hundreds of men are there with their rickshaw’s and auto’s and their temp’s(which is this weird jeep van looking thing) and if something wanted to blow me up, no one would no or care. See the Indian mentality is to just no care about anyone but yourself or others. Everyone is there to just make a profit. We had a van for example, and a shit ton of large rolling suitcases, and there were two brothers driving the vans. Simple enough process, hire them and youre good to go. No. If you want a set price you have to to go a specific person and they give you a ticket or sorts that lets you know ok, this is how much you pay but still, when my uncle gave the guys the tickets, and they learned I was American (which wasn’t difficult to tell considering the type of baggage and basically what I wore) they wanted more. They argued and they sat there looking pissed as if we were ripping them off. My uncle basically just said no, this is how much youre getting and walked away. They really had no choice. I think my uncle paid them close to 300 Rs and in American Dollars that is about six dollars. That is nothing considering how far these men drive and where they drive but that is the going rate.
Driving in Delhi is something I would never surivive. I would either get too angry and give up or I would just be killed. Let me explain this the best I can. Imagine 355 in Chicago, or 70 in St. Louis, very clean, starigh foreward highways, three lanes each way at least, used a lot. Delhi highways, you have the lanes, the roads are so so, and you go wherever the fuck you want. There are few rules I picked and those seem to be it. There is no speed limit, you go whenever the fuck is space, and when you brake, you usually do it about two inches away from the car next or in front of you. Oh yea, most of the drivers were mainly men. Oh and yea, it was very foggy. So foggy you could actually see it floating in front of your face.

After surviving highway hell in Delhi, we go tot the army guest house that my uncle stays at when he’s in town. There were ‘room’ I guess you would call them and both were set up the same. There was a sitting room, floor was basically marble and the walls cement. Going into the next room, a fairly large room, with the same type of floor and walls, and then a little bathroom. Even I, who lived though Kevin’s roommate’s bathroom from two years ago which was just plain old gross did not want to shower here. I like a sense of privacy in my bathroom. This was cold and dirty and very very old. It had the sink in the side, a window I had no idea how to close, a toilet (western by the way) and the shower. I wanted to shower so bad but I really couldn’t because the shower didn’t work very well. It was just hooked up to the wall, with the faucets, and that was it. Since the shower didn’t work, there were two red buckets and you had to turn the faucet up, let the buckets fill, and use those; the water would drain into a whole somewhere in the floor. I was kind of expecting that but my mom told me that they had western bathrooms at my uncle’s house so I waited. I rised off though. I had too.
My mom and I had to share a bed together and I learned we have to share for the next three weeks. I wanted to shoot myself. There is nothing more I hate then sharing a bed with my mother. She snores so loud (I know I do too) she plops all over, its abnoxious. I always end up on a little corner, with no covers. Thankfully though, the bed was pretty big and we had our own blankets. It didn’t take long before we passed out. I got up at one point and I saw a bug on the floor so I jumped back into bed. It was really hard to sleep. I was tired but I kept waking up at the hour, ever hour until 5, which is when we got up.
Five came around, and we had to get up to get to the Delhi train station. Same concept as the night before; same drivers, shitty traffic, worse fog, coldish outside, but I was awake at 5 am the morning. How rare is that. Anyways, security was shittty at the train station and my Uncle got in an argument with the coolie. A coolie btw, is a guy who carries your luggage. Most of them are licensed I was told and there are set prices. Once again, they looked at me and said they would charge more. My uncle argued, the old man got pissed and took away his cart. My uncle followed, got him, and told him that if he wasn’t licensed he would be reported. The guy came back pretty quickly. It was pretty impressive. It’s like a wooden cart with two wheels, all five hundred pounds of our shit was unloaded, and then he lifts and goes through the zillion people. Very impressive considering he was probably close to 70>
The train left around 7 in the morning. The first thing I noticed when I looked out the window when it first began going was one, we were going backwards, and two, the amount of trash everywhere. I culd not even explain to you how much trash there was. Everywhere you possibly can place trash or graffitit there was. Homes breaking down, kids running around without any shoes, the works. This is the real india. Many people expect to see beautiful sceneries and whatnot but that’s not what I saw. A majority of the six hour train ride to dehradun was little villages and trash. The stray cows and dogs were all going through the trash for food. It was the saddest thing and the cows that were owned by people were tied to this wooden post I the ground and have maybe a foot or two of space to walk around. I actually saw one goat that was an escapee and still had the post attached to him. He was my favorite. Don’t get me wrong though, like I said, not all of it was depressing, there were parts where you would see this farm land with the right amount of shadows and everything it was so beautiful.
Most of the train ride SOnali and I got to know each other. SOnali is my cousin, and shes 17, almost 18. The two of us have a crap load in common personality wise and our views on things. I was surprised how much we actually get along. The only thing is, she’s kinda lazy like ruby. Haha. But she’s actually really cool. It was nice to actually get to know a cousin and get along with her for once. None of my cousins actually get along ever. Oh, I had to pee at one point. Sonali was like well…you might want to go now because later it will get bad. First, she lef me to the indian’s toilets. Ok, those were great when I was five years old but now, I cant do the hole in the gound squatting thing. Just cant. There was a western toilet, which I obviously had to use, but it was just as dirty. Really really gross. Over by the toilets though, are the exit doors. With the train running, you can go over, open the door, and just hang out and watch the scenery. Not very safe but it was very cool. I saw the trash closer up.

Ok so, the train ride finally ended. It was an hour later because of the ridiculous fog in Delhi but we made it perfectly fine. Dehradun is a city near Massouri, near the mountains. It was gorgeous scerey around but besides, not very exciting. No real historical sites, nothing. It however houses Wallam School for girls that Kareena Kapoor attended. I hate her so much. I learned people here don’t like her either which is nice. Anyways, the train station was worse than delhi, in the ways of the coolie’s. There were old, 80 old, no teeth, very very poor, and lifting fifty pound luggage on their heads. The sight of the train station was something. Little poor kids running around with no shoes, very dirty, people beggging, I was expecting this also, but its completley different when its actaully put right in front of your eyes. I felt realy really bad for even wearing my clothes were aren't even that expensive according to american standards, just average. That was just the beginning of the good and the bad though.