The Arrival
It’s 3:12 am in Delhi, 8:32 am Melbourne time. After a transferred fight in Singapore we have safely arrived in Delhi with all our bags. Now. I sit here at the airport due to our lack of accommodation having collected our bags only a few moments ago. We’ve chosen to make the airport our halfway point until we venture out into the daylight. There’s only two hours until the sunrises so we feel that a hotel room is unnecessary tonight/right now. Lana is asleep at my feet, with her new Qantas pillow and shoes off. I’m here.
India 2008
On my last journey to India I was 18, fresh out of year 12. I made the decision to visit India due to a loosely prepared speech made by a man named Nick who attended a GAP information night at my old school, Mentone Grammar. I had intentions of visiting Canada, going snowboarding etc. Then everything changed. I saw the passion with which Nick spoke, the people, the communities he spoke about seemed a world away. I still haven’t pinpointed what persuaded my indecision but I think that it may be due to my identification of an adventurous lifestyle, a journey. So I left for India in August 2008 with intentions to stay for 3 to 4 months, I stayed for 5. I was accepted into a program to teach English to Tibetan monks in North India at the same location as my friend Nick, who actually visited during my stay at the monastery. I taught English and lived for 4 months at the monastery with my students. I used to travel on the weekends to destinations nearby (no more than 16 hours away by bus, train). My mum visited me halfway through my journey at the monastery and took me travelling "Anna Whatford style" through South India. I didn’t know or wouldn’t have thought that the places we stayed at existed in India until travelling with Mum. After I finished teaching around Christmas time I caught a flight down to Goa with a few other volunteers that I became good friends with, for new years eve. I then travelled down the west coast from Goa through to Bangalore. The trip seems like it was only yesterday, and here I am again, surreal is a word that I’m currently dancing around.
Initial thoughts
My interpretation of “half baked”
People refer to a group/caste of Indian’s as “half baked” sometimes, a slang. Generally this means that they didn’t finish their education, speak one language, are indebted to society and have no way out. Now, I see these people and I think.
What do I see? I see their eyes and in their eyes I see a void. My definition of a void being; that there is a hole that is unfilled, a sandwich short of a picnic if you will. Amongst this void I observe a loose determination, as if these people want to get somewhere but do not know where to go, or have nowhere to go.
Why I’m here.
I’ve put myself back in India through a series of actions and reactions that I created over the last two or three years. I said to someone the other day that “one of the reasons I want to go back to India is to observe how much I’ve grown, so as to build my self as a person”. Not that in any other place would growth not occur, say Australia. But I believe that growth occurs at a much more rapid pace when one is submersed in an environment completely foreign to their own. There are new places for me to see, more moments to experience and idealistically a more evolute self to become.
Lana
My one and only, entirely. There is no other person that I could travel India for 6 Months with. We’ve only been together for 11 months when November hits, which is a short time, relatively. When I first saw Lana I knew I’d be spending a lot of time with her. We got on like a house on fire, instantly. On the day we first worked together after having briefly met two days earlier, we went out to the northern Melbourne suburbs and gardens on what I believed to be a date. Little did I know that Lana was in a relationship, which she failed to tell me until we had already fallen down the rabbit hole. I cannot even begin to imagine what this country holds for us.
This time.
I have invested. I/we have a tent. Not just any tent, an expedition tent, than can go anywhere under an altitude of 6000m (ish). A semi-waterproof goose down sleeping bag that can be used at -15 degrees. A sleeping mat fit for sleeping on sheet ice. A backpack that is completely waterproof and incredibly lightweight. A portable stove that fits into a small set of tin pots that can burn any type of fuel, from kerosene to alcohol, yes it can run on rum. The most waterproof breathable jacket and pants in the world and an amazing pair of Raichle boots. I have been purchasing these numerous items over the last two years through my outdoor industry “hookups”. Thankyou to any of you whom are reading this. I had none of these items on my last venture to India in 2008. I want to camp whenever I can. Lana has and is part owner in most of these objects. Obviously camping is going to be restricted to certain areas at certain times and each potential camping moment will be assessed with utmost precaution.
There is so much to learn.
“Nothing is ever as it seems” Lana Scoville. This girl, honestly. Here, nothing is ever easy. It’s a subtle reminder that I know nothing and that realistically, any person only understands “life” through their experiences and interpretation of those experiences. This is not a revelation, just a fact.
