Lessons and Impressions
It is 4:41 AM. I am sitting on the lower of a rustic wooden bunk bed, ear phones in the place of ear plugs, which I have been wearing most of the night to block out the clattering and whirring of the air conditioner and fan which are still operating at full force. To the merit of these two devices, there is a constant wind that has been blowing on me all night, likely the reason why I woke up after a rather short, unrestful sleep. I am wearing a sweater, and it is cold – one thing I did not expect to say upon arriving in India – although I am sure my expectations to be roasted alive will be fully met, as the forecast predicts a temperature of 114 for later in the day.
We landed at Indira Ghandi International Airport last night at around 9:45, and it took us until midnight to gather everyone, find luggage between power outages that froze the conveyer belt every five minutes, and finally find our way to Sahara house. On the drive over, it struck me how similar Delhi looked, smelled, and felt like China. But through all the feelings of familiarity, the magnitude of foreignness to this place was overwhelming. Beyond the apparent differences in language and dress, it could immediately sense that I had landed in a culture completely unlike my own, and I don’t think I have ever felt that so strongly before.
I am sharing a room approximately the size of my dorm last year at Duke with five other girls, which puts things in a bit of perspective. After this experience, I am sure I will hesitate before complaining about the size of my living quarters.
The staff here are gracious, if a bit hard to understand through their thick Indian accents. Two of the staff members, whose names elude me at the moment, gave us impromptu welcome speeches last night while I was so tired I could barely keep my eyelids open. But even through my fatigue, their enthusiasm for their work was unmistakable. At this point I’m still not quite sure my job will be for the next eight weeks. I expect that we'll be getting more information in the next few days before we start work on monday.
It is now 5:27 and my computer is running low on battery power. I can’t charge it until I buy myself an adaptor for my power cord – one of many things I don’t understand, why, in a world of open trade and communication, different countries somehow end up with power outlets of different shapes and sizes.
This was written on May 14th, 2008, upon first arriving in Delhi. The rest of my Duke Engage blog posts can be found at: http://cedarsatin.blogspot.com/