One of my collegues, who is actually back home, asked me to greet his country of birth as I set foot on the Indian sub-continent. Well, it was just after 12:30 midnight (local time) when we touched down at Indira Ghandi International Airport. I'm not sure, but I think it actually took longer for us to taxi into the terminal than it took to empty the plane of people.
As we were approaching Delhi, there was a curious mixture of excitement at the thought of visiting this city of 10 million inhabitants, and anxiety at the prospect of getting into a taxi without my companions in the middle of the night. I know that this seems absurd, but it's at least worth a moment's reflection because after all, this is a foreign land and one never knows what to expect.
India requires a traveller's visa from every person who arrives from some other international port. Thankfully, the required documentation was already in place (and had been verified by personnel at the Toronto airport before we actually left Canadian soil). The preparations for this voyage also made me aware of the fact that the Indian officials would require a declaration about the newest menace to hit various parts of the world - the H1N1 Influenza. Along with the customary landing form, airline personnel distributed an H1N1 declaration which each passenger had to complete before the completion of the flight.
Arriving in the customs hall, the first stop was a wicket (placed off to the side) where the attendants all bore masks, and processed our H1N1 declarations without even looking at us. In some places, one might be tempted to wonder at the welcome we were being accorded, but the fun had only begun. Stage 2 was of course the presentation of the customs declaration, yet another opportunity for wordless interaction as the anonymous passenger met the unknown official. Papers were examined, passports were stamped, and we were on our way, without the slightest of salams.
One of the blessings of the day was that all our luggage did indeed reach its destination, without any delay or other incident save a bit of a wait. For this we are thankful because at that hour of the day, and being travel weary, the last thing one needs is to have to face the hassle of identifying lost luggage.
Passing through the last of the inspection stations in the airport, we soon found ourselves in the reception hall. Having paid only the slightest bit of attention to the foreign exchange booth inside the airport, we were now greeted by what seemed to be an endless line of taxi attendants, each waiting for a passenger and holding a sign with a name attached. Thus began the hunt for those who were awaiting our arrival, a task which was accomplished with relative ease.
One of the tourist books I've been reading lately says that newcomers to India should never try to drive in this city. Situation normal, as the saying goes. The 30 minute taxi ride to the hotel last night was proof positive of this piece of advice. The driver was amazingly candid and welcoming as we chatted about all manner of things. I learned that he lives in Delhi only part of the year, and goes 'home' to the area around Jaipur for the remainder, and I appreciated his agility at handling the traffic, which he assured me was light at 1:30 am compared to what it would be during daylight hours.
Hospitality seems to be the order of the day. Having arrived at the hotel, and procured my room key, it wasn't long before I was showered and had tumbled into the waiting bed.
Did I remember to hug the country as I arrived?
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