Holy cow, I'm in India!

As soon as I boarded the plane I knew it was going to be a long flight. I had the window with a Venetian lady With whom i later got to know better seated on the aisle seat. The row in front of us were a young Indian couple with their brat of a 3 year old shrieking with all his lungs could muster even before the plane had started to move off. What I found disturbing was that not only did he seem to have no inkling that what he was doing was unbecoming, he did not show any sign of fear or anticipation that he was going to be reprimanded. No, they just ignored him with mom every now and then verbally pacifying him to no avail. This instigated me to fantasise about what I would do in a similar situation if it were my kid, and over the next hour or so found myself coerced into applying all my equanimity towards "hellboy". All well and good, until soon enough, casually looking up from my book, I see hellboy peering cheekily over the headrest and ducking for cover a split second after our eyes met. I inadvertently smile to myself at the recognition of innocence but then catch myself - because i realised that my shiny bald head has perked his curiosity and I am now within his conscious sphere of terror. Not much longer he starts dangling pieces of tissue and polystyrene headrest protector in front of my face toying with me. My half-hearted ackward attempts to snatch it from him only added to Venetian lady's in-flight entertainment. Ha! I finally snatch it from him and he disappears behind the backrest. Venetian lady, from the very beginning a sympathetic acquaintance, warns that he's going to "get me back." Lo and behold, 5 minutes later, hellboy sticks his head up over the headrest, and sprays me in the face! Stunned, I helplessly look over at his parents who are completely oblivious to what just happened. Thank goodness it wasnt a full flight, Venetian lady and I find new seats.

I land in Goa, and in my ignorance i had booked for a 33 day stay in India but only had a 30 day visa-on-arrival limit. Im asked to follow an officer to fill in appropriate paperwork and my first hand experience of Indian bureaucracy and inefficiency begins. I'm led to a bare office and asked to sit and wait. They go about doing their business getting my paperwork in order and rescheduling my departure while I brace myself for a long and very likely frustrating wait. I remind myself this was to be expected and that i am solely responsible for not getting my visa in order. I'm there for 2 hours, have my stay in india reduced to 27 days, retain my equanimity, and miss my connecting flight by 10 minutes. In India, you've got to shed all preconceived notions of 'how things should be' and roll with the punches. A wise approach to playing life, I think, and the very basis of why I wanted to come to India in the first place.

Refocusing on my breath, I look for a ticketing counter for my flight and find out the next flight would not be until 10pm. I decide to check into the cheapest available hotel, Renu Regency, but not before experiencing more local administrative incompetence and Indian non-conception of time. The bumpy ride to the hotel is jaw-dropping as the driver speeds through very heavy traffic and destitute areas of Mumbai in attempt to bypass clogged expressways. The smell is so thick of garbage and human waste it feels almost like I am wading through it. I look out the windows and throughout the 25 minute drive I see people cooking, washing, eating, sleeping in filth and trash like it's the most normal thing in the world. All my opinions and idealism of how the world "should be" evaporate and I slump into a sense of helpless insignificance.

We drive onto an an alleyway to a multistory building. Reception switches on the lights as we approach to reveal the ground floor of a building that in Singapore would not pass building codes or safety regulations. Funny how A few minutes ago i imagined "Regency" to have some semblance of regality in its presentation. I encounter more administrative Bullshit as they start questioning for a valid visa. For the first time I notice im starting to lose my cool and in words I don't recall, tell them that my stamp visa is legit. Interestingly enough, they readily comply and usher me unceremoniously to my room. I flick on the tv. Thank god they have cable. I allow myself to "switch off" and be hypnotised. anything to take me away from the blaring air conditioner, incessant honking from the street below, and horrendous excuse of a hotel room.

(unable to load photos on iPad, unfortunately)