India Journal 4

This is the fourth entry in a series chronicling our journey to India to retrieve our daughter, Dorothy. Miss the first parts? Journal 1. Journal 2. Journal 3. The corresponding journal entry by Jessie of Speckled Bird Art is here. All photographs are those of Jessie Baldwin, unless otherwise noted.

20-10-2009

Showers felt glorious and Eric and I both commented that we wished we’d done that before going to bed. It had been the plan, but in our state of exhaustion we no longer cared. The bathroom was nicely appointed- porcelain pedestal sink, travertine tiled shower stall with a wall of glass, and it was wonderfully clean and modern. I remember thinking how itty bitty the shampoo bottle was. It was about 1 1/2 inches tall- the tiniest sample bottle I’d ever seen!

Afterward, I peeped out the window to see the alley below. It was still dark and the wall of one of the buildings had Diwali lights strung and lit. They weren’t hung the way we hang our Christmas lights- they are draped vertically in long strings. So pretty.

This is the day we fly to Orissa- the state our daughter is in! I’m typing this on the flight right now, in fact. Our flight was at roughly 7am, so we made it to the hotel lobby around 6am with our in-country coordinator ("R") and his daughter. She will be with us the entire journey too. This is his adopted daughter and she helps run the Nepali orphanage. He says he is training her to continue his affairs- of helping orphans and seeing them cared for.

The domestic airport is only 2 months newly renovated. Gorgeous building- high ceilings, large open window onto the tarmac. That large window held the most magnificent pink hovering sun I’ve ever seen! The sun is just so different in India- it really looks BIGGER. We saw a Costa Coffee on the terminal main floor, and a KFC in the second story overlooking the main floor. Check-in was mostly the same as ours. I will say that, similar to the lines at the International airport the night before, what line you were in didn’t seem to matter. There was a “male” line and a “female” line and everyone was just mixed in. Our party had followed the signs, though, so Eric and I were temporarily separated. Instead of heading to a gate... you leave the building on a bus to be taken to your plane on the runway. So much more efficient than walking a huge airport, and I think it must conserve space, too.

Eric and I had some of the raw food bars we’d packed before leaving the hotel and had a for-purchase boxed breakfast on the airplane (240 rupees, if I remember correctly). It consisted of a croissant, some sort of quick bread/cake, and fruit. I skipped the fruit to avoid Delhi Belly, but ate the croissant with the “mixed fruit” jelly and butter (Amul brand).

And that’s where we’re at so far. Touching down in Orissa is to come soon. My belly is all jitters and I simply cannot believe that we’ll be on a similar plane tomorrow with our DAUGHTER on our lap. How lucky are we???!

The remainder of that day (written after the fact):

When our plane landed at Bhubaneswar Airport, we had to exit down the staircase onto the tarmac and then walk to the terminal. At that exact moment, I *felt India*! I could have spun around all Julie Andrews-style and sung. The air, the colors, the bright sunlight, the distinctly different looking airport... it all appeared as I imagined India to look! “We’re in INDIA!” I reminded Eric with a smile.

The landscaping as you entered the airport was filled with tropical-style plants, many potted. There were visibly armed officials in berets. The luggage carousel had conveyor belt flaps that were designed differently than ours (or maybe they were just more beat up???). We grabbed our bags and then, for the first time, had a chance to exchange our US dollars for some Indian Rupees. The exchange rate was about 40 rupees to the dollar. Then with a very full neck wallet (keeping our passport close!) we left the terminal and headed outside where R had drivers waiting for us. One car for Eric, Jess and me and another car for himself and his daughter. The side of the car said “Ginger”- the hotel we were staying at. Surreal. Names that I’d read in guidebooks and itineraries were before my eyes! Our plan had been to go sightseeing. R asked if we needed a meal, and we answered that we had eaten on the plane but that a bottle of water would be fantastic since we’d be in the car at least an hour to go to the coast. We drove, and drove. Never did stop for water. Glaring at us in the seat pouches of the car were water bottles, but I think we were all too leery of contaminated water to drink from them. (Anyone else see Slumdog Millionaire and the super-glued caps? We did, and we were told it happens All. The. Time.)

This was our first real glimpse at India beyond the quick [10 min.] drive in daylight from the Saptagiri to Delhi Airport that morning (where we did see some cows in the dusty alleyway). I had already been prepared for my eyes to take in a great deal of poverty. Afterall, Orissa is known to be the poorest state in all of India. Still, I couldn’t wonder what was “Orissa” and what was just “India” in general. Trash along the sides of the road. Dusty, dirty. Animals: cows, ferrel dogs, goats mostly. People hanging about. The further we drove, I could tell we were entering areas that were “less city”. The plant life had a lush tropical appearance to it. I’ve never been to Hawaii, but it reminded me of pictures I’d seen. We were headed toward the coast for the day. Eric and I figured that if we were *that close*, we might as well dip our toes in the Indian Ocean (technically, the Bay of Bengal)! I had also wanted to see more of Orissa than the orphanage. I want to tell Dorothy a bit about her birth country and the region she was born in someday.

The honk-filled ride took about an hour- hour and a half. Traffic in India is ridiculously crazy, seemingly chaotic, and busy. You’ve got people walking, bikes, motorcycles, rickshaws, auto rickshaws, cars, cows, and even camel-drawn cargo all sharing the same road! The lines on the pavement are just a suggestion and you could have a vehicle using 2 lanes or multiple vehicles squishing into a single lane’s width. Need to pass? Find the hole and go for it! Or better yet, *make* the hole- someone will surely slow down! Right? It’s fascinating to watch because we didn’t see an accident. Everyone just made it work. The honking, though, was less peaceful. Each time we approached another car, our driver would honk. Each time he wanted another car to move out of the way so he could continue at a faster pace, he would honk. Honk. Honk. Honk.

Our first stop was the Sun Temple in Konark. We parked the cars and got out. It wasn’t yet clear to me how far we had to go to get to the entrance, so I was a bit confused when a man struck up a conversation with me. In typical American style, I wasn’t too big on small talk with someone approaching me off the street. I gave half-hearted answers, and smiled and nodded and then felt silly when I realized that this was to be our guide through the historic site. Here we got into auto-rickshaws to make our way to the far entrance. We first sat under a tree to hear a bit about the Temple (and may have heard a king cobra that was no worry because they’re “very holy”- ha!). Our guide’s English was so very thick with accent, and we were still so jet-lagged, only a smattering of the words stuck but we got the point. So many carvings on this temple! Too many to really study them all, but that didn’t keep our guide from trying- especially the kama sutra ones(!). There came a point, though, when we realized we had to seek water and shade or we’d have heat stroke. I was offered fresh coconut water (lop the top off a coconut and pop in a straw!) but we opted for bottled water. Okay, actually... I would have gone for it (I love coconut water), but was reminded with a glare by Jess and Eric that I wanted to stay healthy from stomach bugs and those rusty machetes they were lopping the tops off with didn’t exactly look *clean*.

On to the next stop! We drove from Konark to Puri, dipping our toes in the water along the way. In Puri, we ate lunch a lovely restaurant with an Aquarium theme. As Orissa is a state with coastline, the regional cuisine incorporates more seafood, so this made sense. We got our first taste of Indian food here (coming in late the night before, we hadn’t eaten, and the airplane breakfast didn’t really count). Freshly baked naan! A cultural difference we noticed was that while we all ordered our own dish, when everything was brought out it was offered communally at the center of the table and we were expected to share and try each item. Rajeev treated, and we were told we could treat that night.

After lunch, R and his daughter made way in their own car to the temple at Puri (one of 5 major temples that one should make pilgrimage to, I was told), while Eric, Jess, and I left in our car to the Ginger hotel. We were to rest awhile and then make our way for dinner. As R was giving our driver the instructions, they looked to be in a heated discussion. Our driver kept fiercely wagging his head “no”. (By the end of the trip, I finally figured out that Indians waggle their head from side to side in much the same way we nod our heads up and down to show agreement, or that we’re listening.)

At this point, I was so completely nauseous. I began sensing the weight of what was to come and the nerves I felt in the deepest part of my stomach were like nothing I’ve ever had before. On top of it, I think I had a brief pang of homesickness- a feeling of being trapped. That’s the best way to describe it. I was excited to experience India, but the sights I’d taken in were hard to process along with all of my emotions about finally meeting Dorothy. Too much at once. How would I make it through 8 days of this? I finally had understanding of what it feels like to be a “stranger in a strange land”.

Dinner was a great distraction. We walked from the Ginger to the Nakli Dhaba Restaurant (part of the Mayfair Lagoon), crossing over a very busy road in the dark! Originally seated inside, beneath the gorgeous fabric-draped ceiling, we then moved when the live music in the courtyard kicked up. The air was perfect and I felt at ease. Then we went back, and my upset stomach started again- tomorrow we would meet our daughter!