India begins. part 1.

By the time we were notified of our "descent" into the Indira Gandhi airport the apprehension in me, admittedly, outweighed any level of excitement.
Try considering everything you had ever heard of India. Everything.
It's not possible to process it neatly. Not that any country anywhere in the world is so simple to comprehend, to make sense of, but I do believe that India in particular has a massive hold on the imagination. That anything and everything is possible. Or is made so.
So I was a little afraid, and, among others, there was the more mundane fear specific to entering alien lands. What obstacles will I come up against?
In this is actually the kernel of my travel addiction.
Some people like skydiving. Some people need to change careers.
Me? I need to throw myself among peoples who speak and live differently than myself.
To see what madness I'll end up in and come out alive.
Even if all I have managed is buying a train ticket.

And so, after my second sunrise above the clouds in 19 hours we landed and there was no turning back. A hazy sky was my first sight of India.

My first scent was smoke; something, somewhere, was burning.
MY first true sound of India was this little bird, brown, unexciting, but twittering away in the large dome ceiling above the immigration lobby as my passport was inspected.
My first touch in India were the rupees at the exchange window. As I have since been here a day and half and have parted with a fair amount of money I must say I was possibly handed the cleanest, stiffest, and brightest rupees India had.
Just for me I'm sure.
And my first taste (and this I had been most looking forward to) was a dish not even precisely Indian, but rather an invention of my host made of "oats and curd, you know! oats and curd! but you make your oats with water in america, don't you?"
there were indeed oats and curd, and peanuts, and salt, and some green leafy thing, and a few other tidbits I'm still unaware of, but really tasted rather good.
In the end, that is the most important thing.
Oh, and chai of course.
Though, after being handed a fragile cup of milky spiced goodness I was missing Starbucks 20 oz proportions.
(Dear host, please forgive the American-ness in me)
Still, I was licking my lips and cherishing that first taste.

I was not in tourist mode this day. Not truly. I had no desire to run and see museums, or tombs, or old temples (or even new temples).
My goals for the day were two things:
1) shopping and shipping it home
2) bus and train ticket purchases

i managed 2 out of three and that i managed anything at all is a miracle.
i say this not to be bitchy.
(or what i am about to go on about.)
if there are hints of frustration, irritation, and screaming fits of rage (in my head anyway) it is not a statement of india but simply my response to it.
obviously influenced by what i am used to.
the definition of efficiency is open to interpretation.
so is sanity.

will continue tomorrow.
i have an hour left in delhi on day 2.
perhaps i should do something touristy?