Arrival

Contrary to what I heard before booking my tickets, China Airlines' planes were comfortable and provided plenty of entertainment, with a touch-screen TV in front of every seat and a wide selection of "on-demand" movies. After 12 hours over the Pacific, I landed in Taipei at 05:30. The airport was barren, both of passengers and of maps or any other (English) information to help me find may way around. Looking lost, I approached the "transfer" desk, meaning to ask from what gate my next flight would depart. But before I could get a word out, the clerk handed me two meal tickets. Well that was nice — generosity something I've never experienced in a US airport. I guess he felt sorry for my having such a long layover.

I pretty much had no choice but to stay in the airport for the next 16 hours. It was poring rain outside and, though US travelers apparently don't need a visa to tour in Taiwan, where would I go? Fortunately, I found a room with free internet access (and 120V power) and was able to entertain myself on the web for a while.

Taiwanese food, or at least the fast food you get in the airport, is very different from any Chinese food I've ever had before. Let's just say my so-called "vegetarian" noodles had several ingredients I couldn't even come close to identifying.

I met — er, smelled — my first Indians at 18:00. Yes, really, I smelled the curry wafting from their clothes before I saw them. A large group was transferring planes from Vancouver. Now we were all in the same boat, with another 4 hours to kill before the final flight. A Canadian Panjabi girl, about my age, as well as a Muslim man, took a seat next to me in the waiting area. Meanwhile, whenever someone would walk up to the check-in counter, a mob of traditionally-dressed Indian women would follow. They were chattering in Hindi, but none had any clue why or where they were going — each blindly following the crowd. The Panjabi girl thought this was especially amusing because she could understand what they were saying enough to know how truly confused they all were.

I thought for a minute, trying to formulate a Hindi sentence. I practiced what I was going to say, in my head, but of course I still stuttered as I spoke. Thus my first Hindi words in several long months were, क्या आप उन्हें समझ सकती हैं? (kyaa aap unhẽ samajh saktee haĩ — can you understand them?) This struck up a conversation that at least kept me occupied until we boarded the plane. The girl said she had been to Nainital (where I'm headed) and claimed it was and is the most beautiful place she's ever seen.

Upon landing in New Delhi at 01:45, I quickly passed through customs. They didn't even ask any questions — the man just rubber stamped my passport and sent me on my way. That struck me as a little strange considering the recent terrorist bombings.

And on the final leg of my long journey, a taxi driver was waiting, with my name on a placard, to take me to my hotel. He drove very slowly, so I have not yet experienced the insane driving I've heard so much about. I suppose the speed was a tactic to get a better tip after some conversation, and in that case it worked. I told him that I was here to learn Hindi (not wanting to explain what "forest ecology" is), which prompted him to begin a Hindi "lesson". He'd say something in English and I'd start to translate, and he would correct me or provide vocabulary. Then we'd repeat the completed sentence a couple times. This was a very interesting process, given that he himself spoke very broken English and claimed to be uneducated (which is how you get to be a taxi driver, I guess). He said he learned a little English in what schooling he'd had, but that he'd learned everything else from conversing with his fares. At one point he explained that "Nainital" means "seven lakes", and said that he had also been there before, agreeing with the Panjabi girl that the scenery was breathtaking. After these two conversations, the rest of my trip will have to meet some very high expectations.

The Ajanta Guest House would not win any awards for outward appearances, but what can you expect when you're paying $10 a night. Here's my room — functional, and relatively clean. In particular, there were no cockroaches in the bathroom (or at least the staff scared them away before I checked in). I'm looking forward to a bucket bath in the morning.

-Peter