"If the string is too tight it will snap, if it is too loose it will not play."
--Siddhartha Gautama on his quest towards enlightenment, eloquently delivered by Keanu Reeves in the Little Buddha.

Staring blankly at the baggage claim conveyor belt at 1:45 am New Delhi time (noticing the striking resemblence of the hanging black flaps which hide the secret lair of luggage to the mustache of the winking Pringles guy), I wondered for not the first and certainly not for the last time what I was doing here. During the flight over my mood had shifted between nonchalant shrugs (I can handle this no problem) and fearful wondering (like the first night at sleepover camp). During the entire process of coming up with the idea for this trip, applying for the Leadership in Teaching Grant through school, booking the flight, shopping at REI the Wednesday before leaving, right up until the moment when I watched my sister drive away, I knew that my motivation for doing this was to willfully make myself uncomfortable. I teach my kids about Siddhartha's quest for enlightenment through the simplicity of the above quotation. If things are too easy (ie living in DC in a good place, working in a stimulating environment and having an awesome group of friends) then maybe it is time to break out of that comfort area. At 1:55 am, at the Gandhi International airport, I was wondering if I was going to snap.

I didn't. My bag finally pushed through the Pringles guy's mouth and ended up in my hands. Bleary eyed and in a fog (oh yeah, the other great idea I had to challenge myself on my quest for enlightenment was to give up alchohol and coffee for the first three weeks of my trip and my head was throbbing from the lack of caffeine, which is most definitely addictive) I pushed my way on towards my next task of finding my ride to the hotel. In preparation (a term I use fairly lightly) for my trip, I had been playing email tag with a booking agency for both my hotel room and ride to the airport. At this point, I was sure that I hadn't done something that I needed to or that the guy who was supposed to pick me up had decided that it was too late after my arrival, and had gone home. On the plane ride over, i had met a man named Rajjit, who was at first an obnoxious man who had sat in my row at the last minute, preventing me from having the entire row to myself, to the man whose words I was hanging on as he tried to describe to me what Delhi would be like as we prepared to land. His words of skepticism over having a ride at all from the airport were ringing in my ears and I was sure that Vikas would not be there to greet me (actually I was quite sure he'd be there which he was. for whatever reason when you write these travel acounts, you look for ways to make them more dramatic. See Bill Bryson. The actual events are dramatic enough if you ask me.)

The ride to the hotel was uneventful in that we didn't die, but otherwise consisted of dogding taxis, highly decorated and passengered trucks, and watching for pedestrians and stray dogs who saw the highway as much theirs as anyone else's. I arrived at my hotel and fell asleep after watching a little late night Indian News, complete with ticker in Hindi.

It's amazing what connections will do for a person's peace of mind. I had told my good pal Scotty Herr about my trip and he had in passing mentioned that to a college friend of mine, Jay Cantrell, who I had not spoken to but off and on for the better part of three years. Jay happens to have a sister who for the moment is my guardian angel. She is in Delhi for the summer working at the US embassy and, after 12 and a half hours of sleep, I gave her a call and met her outside the embassy. Needless to say, after talking to her for the next few hours over dinner, I felt like I might just survive this trip. (Another aside. In my desire to "familiarize" myself with the area around my hotel, I had gone on a walk around Connaught Place. Think Adams Morgan on a Saturday Night meets West Virginia small town crazy, times 1000. I had waked around the circle one and a half times quite inadvertantly and was noticing for the second time that the McDonald's looked better kept than most Easton restaurants. I had dodged traffic, those of you who think that people can't drive in the states quit complaining, touts or local beggars and people just long enough to realize that I had to go back to bed immediately. Thus my first venture into Delhi solo ended a mere 30 minutes after it began.) Kelley talked me through her experiences in Delhi, took me to a restaurant where we ate awesome Indian food, and even hung the tantalizing prospect of a weekend trip to Amristar on the horizon. I felt much better on the cab ride back to the hotel.

So, I'm headed to meet Kelley for her birthday dinner tonight and tomorrow I have a car and driver to take me to the monuments in Delhi, so things are looking up. To all of you who have provided well wishes, I thank you. They mean so much when you're far from home. I'll keep you posted as I continue down the road to who knows where...

and remember AUREA MEDIACRATAS