Introduction to India

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Quite honestly there has been so much to see and experience, it’s hard to know where to begin. We arrived in Mumbai airport after a 4 hour layover in Dubai. I’ve never understood how someone could sleep in such an uncomfortable position on a chair on the airport, until now. We grabbed what little sleep we could, where we could, given that we had 4 flights stretched over 24 hours.

Mumbai was a dump, with roads so bad that the taxi that we took between terminals almost disappeared into the holes. That was when I started to really panic. And it didn’t help that Gordon was also nervous then.

Arriving in Ahmedabad (pronounced Ahm – da- bad) we were whisked away in an airconditioned car and offered two ice cold bottles of water, which were welcomed in the heat. The hotel was even more remarkable when they greeted us by name at the door and before we knew we were in our room inspecting the minibar.

Because Gordon was brought to India for work, we spent our first day in the McCain office in Mehsana, 60km from Ahmedabad. It was interesting for both of us because we were given a tour of the factory and introduced to everyone. I can only remember a handful of names though because they are all quite complex to an English-speaking person. Dom, Gordon’s good friend from the UK, lived in India for 2 years a while ago. We’ve spent all of our time with him and he’s been giving us some useful info which has put some of our fears to rest.

Probably the highlight of our first day here was travelling a short distance in a rickshaw from the hotel to the mega mall. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time. We came to an intersection and I was alarmed when I saw a motorbike came to a screeching halt just before it hit a car. And I really do mean just missed the car. I was horrified when I realized that a baby tucked between the Dad and the petrol tank. The baby was so young it was still wearing a baby-grow. I couldn’t believe it. It’s not uncommon to see 4 or 5 people on a motorbike at one time; sometimes the mother is holding a newborn in a blanket on a motorbike. And by the way, no one wears helmets.

It’s quite a different experience being the one been stared at. We’re white and I have light hair, so we’re quite the spectacle apparently. Dom showed us the local mega mall, which is similar to Wallmart. We were literally followed down an aisle by a guy and his wife. Every time we looked at him, he smiled at us.
The chocolate is locked away in a glass cabinet, which Gordon is not too pleased about. You can get most groceries and usual ‘Western’ clothing and goodies in the mall. That is definitely a comfort. There is a reprieve from the haggling and chaos of the streets.

Quite ironically we had the best Chinese meal I’ve ever tasted, in India. The service in India is amazing. We are doted on hand and foot and with the most polite attitude. It’s refreshing, but I feel bad sometimes too when we’re fussed over.

Hooting (honking as they call it here) is just part of how they drive, but every time I hear a hooter, I jump. Honking is not meant to be aggressive here, but rather it lets the driver of the other vehicle know that you are there. We ended the day with a walk up the street back to the hotel, with me walking on the extreme left of the road to avoid jumping when I heard a honk.

By the way, the coffee here is so great! If that isn’t a reason to visit, then there are plenty of other amazing things to see.

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Comments

[Shalini]

Yes, all Indians are very friendly! Kelly, I am so glad you have lot's of positives in your blog! So can you survive in India for three years?