Howdy (or Namaskaar, or Namaste) y’all:

We’ve been here a week and have been too busy/exhausted/sick to post, but today we have a free morning and I’m taking a minute to post an update so you don’t worry we’re dead.

The flight from L.A. was long and (for me) particularly brutal as I got a Big Banger of a headache that lasted pretty much the whole way. Overpreparer that I am, I had Advil and protein bars at the ready in my carry-on, so I was able to take the pain down to a dull roar for most of the flight. I regretted not bringing a neck pillow, as “sleeping” cramped in a coach seat was frustratingly uncomfortable; once our section was finally asleep, everyone was awakened by a loud, long conversation in the aisle right next to us. Many were more than grumpy but no one said anything, mostly because we weren’t sure what would be effective.

Between the sleepless crankies, the headache, and United’s crappy selection of hundreds of mediocre movies, the flight became a floating steel-encapsulated living Hell. This was not an auspicious start to our adventure, but we tried to remain as upbeat as our exhaustion allowed.

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We were late into Mumbai, arriving at about 9:30 pm, but our hosts were awaiting us at the airport with flowers nonetheless, along with drivers to take us to our hotel. We had to wait another couple hours for the bride and groom’s flight, also late; we finally staggered into the van headed for Pune around 1 am.

After 24 hours in air transit you’d think 3-4 hours more on the road would be a mere annoyance. IT WAS TERRIFYING. Everything you’ve ever heard about driving in India is true–probably even worse than you’ve heard.

Most drivers start their journeys at night (due to the heat, most trucks are not air-conditioned) so the road was packed, with dust and exhaust fumes swirling in the headlights as we careened towards our hotel.

Soon my airplane headache was compounded by carsickness and the dreadful certainty that we would die. In India, lane markings are simply ignored. Trucks cut traffic between lanes at high speeds while honking repeatedly to cue other vehicles to edge away. Motorcycles zip from one lane to another while larger vehicles brake and swerve with mere inches of clearance. Cars, trucks, and motorcycles stop randomly in the middle of the road for a smoke-o while others drive on the dirt shoulder at full speed to get around them. We were not surprised to learn that India has the highest traffic mortality rate in the world. We were surprised we didn’t end up as part of that statistic.

Note: I managed to get some footage to be used as forensic evidence should we all die en route, but sadly I won’t be able to upload it until I get back due to an operating system issue. Look for exciting action-packed commuting videos on Facebook after our return!

We got into our hotel around 4 am and slept a little. Trying to negotiate a developing nation on a couple hours sleep is no picnic. Still, we had a schedule so we did what we had to do.

Bleary-eyed, we poked around the hotel in the morning as a) we were exhausted and b) had been warned not to go anywhere without an Indian escort (if you think driving in India is bad, try crossing a street). We’re staying at what’s considered a mid-level hotel, but some words of advice if you should attempt India in future:

1. In addition to providing flowers, our hosts put a gift basket in our hotel room with cookies and Indian snacks like moong dal, or deep-fried lentils. This was helpful, as the hotel restaurant was open limited hours and access to food/caffeine was restricted.

2. Food access becomes an issue if you are taking Malarone (anti-malarial pills) as the drug messes with your gut during its entire transit through your system. ‘Nuff said.

3. Speaking of guts: bring your own toilet paper, bar soap, toothpaste, sewing kit, shampoo, etc. Most of the stuff you take for granted at a motel in the States you’re not assured here even in a “business hotel.” Thankfully our rooms had Western-style toilets, not the case at many of the historic sites we visited.

3. Indian food contains a lot of grease and starch and can make one feel pretty bloaty, an effect amplified if you are (wisely) avoiding raw food. Most places have tons of “veg” items; you’re not going to see beef or pork anywhere–only chicken, lamb, and sometimes fish.

Hotels serve alcohol but most places won’t have it as it’s strictly regulated (and many religiously observant folks don’t drink). You can find Starbucks in the bigger cities, but most coffee you’ll encounter is instant. Tea is normally served mixed with hot buffalo milk so it’s also quite rich.

Finally, Indians love their sugar but their treats have different tastes and textures than ours (especially the chocolate, so bring your own if you know you’ll have a craving for a specific something). I can leave most of the pastries alone–there are English style cookies, thanks to Empress Victoria and the Raj, wot wot–but I have fallen in love with chikki, the Indian version of peanut brittle made with jaggery, or unrefined sugar.

4. Our room was fitted with a “magic eye,” i.e. a video camera that allows women who are staying alone see who is knocking at the hotel room door. This is helpful in a country notorious for violence against women–and recently, for horrible rapes of foreigners–and for religious females (like the one on our plane who requested to be reseated because she was sitting between two men).

5. Reading the locally-produced newspaper is helpful for starting conversations with the locals, who are usually happy to contextualize news items you’re interested in. They usually appreciate your interest in their country and culture too. It’s sad how many tourists resist getting their feet wet, culturally speaking (though often they end up doing so in Asian “starting block”-style toilets. Bring your own TP for those too.)

6. Tech here is really, really spotty. Our hotel had a “business center” and wireless service in-room, but the connections weren’t reliable and download speeds very slow. Part of the reason we’ve not been posting is that every page download takes forever.

As a result, most hotel records are kept on paper; we had to provide passport and visa copies a couple times upon arrival even though they had been submitted in advance.

7. Indians are for the most part friendly, polite, and gracious, but if you’re out in public you have to watch your wallet and belongings like a hawk (we keep our documents and cash in a neck wallet under our clothes; our hosts thought this was such a good idea they bought their own).

Also when you’re in public expect to have people stop you and ask to take your picture–they often just take your picture without your permission anyway. Then expect to have anyone else in the vicinity to pile in for their own photos, delaying your progress.

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SHOPPING, DANCING, PHOTOS

The next day we went wedding clothes shopping for the groom and male guests. It was intense and exhausting. I took a lot of photos before I noticed the “No Photography” sign in the store (they’re in most clothing stores)–whoops. My hostess said nobody really cares, but I hate giving the nationals more contempt for stupid Americans. I got a few nice photos in exchange for the dose of embarrassment, I guess.

It was also the last day of Navratri, a nine-day festival celebrating the victory of the goddess Durga over the demon Mahishasura. On that night is the Dandiya, a colorful folk dance from Gujarat, where you dance with sticks and clack them together as you whirl around. Large dances are organized with competitions for the best dancers. We saw much great happy clattering and spinning around, and some of us were invited to join in. The young dancers we encountered were all very sweet and seemed to have fun teaching us the moves.

The tenth day of the festival is Dussehra, where businesses and tools of trade are decorated with leaves and garlands.

Here are some photos of those holiday doings, and I’ll post more about our recent adventures soon. We’re in Aurangabad now but have to get up really early to get back to Pune tomorrow for the final wedding preparations (Mehendi!)