Amy Gajaria

June 4, 2009

I arrived for my first trip to India at a sparse, but comfortable hotel near the Delhi International Airport.  the flight over was incredibly long, and upon arriving at the hotel, the sight of an unfamiliar bathroom (particularly the bucket below the shower taps) nearly sent me into a mini meltdown.  I spent that night spent trying to adjust to jet lag and a new and extremely hard bed while cursing the loud obnoxious air conditioning that made me shiver under the thin sheets.

Somehow, I always forget the effect sleep – however small – a shower, and food can have on my mood while traveling, and despite the poor sleep of the night before, when I awoke, the room seemed more charming and the bathroom less unusual.  Buoyed by my newfound confidence, I decided to venture out to explore the area around my hotel.  Bored by the main street, I wandered off into a labyrinth of back lanes housing street side food stalls and tiny children running around on the dusty paths.  I felt – famous last words here – a rush of confidence and energy at my ability to navigate these foreign streets and to battle the noonday Delhi heat.

Of course, as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I managed to get thoroughly lost.  Landmarks that I thought I were markings in my head disappeared, and the sun’s rays started to beat down hotter and hotter.  I realized there were no street names, and precious few women around.  I thought I’d put my Lonely Planet Hindi to use by asking people – kyaa hotel hai? They probably looked confused because I was asking them hotel do is? Hoping for the first time that globalization had extended his tentacle out into this little enclave, I started asking hotel?  Hotel? In English, hoping to look pathetic and like a lost lamby tourist.

Finally finding my way back to the main street and trudging towards the hotel, I was greated by the hotel staff as – heard you lost the hotel! and a chorus of raucous laughter.  Hilarious.   I returned to my room – less an institutional cell, now, and more a comfortable oasis, and proceeded to press my sweaty self against the air conditioning unit, apologizing profusely to it for my cursing of it the night before.  I waited for my face to stop resembling an underripe strawberry, and my heart rate to climb back down to a more manageable rhythm as I pawed my way through my guidebook, plotting an adventure for the next day.