Thursday, December 15, 2005
The last couple of days in India were kind of a loss. I’d pretty much had enough of being a tourist, and simply wanted to get on to Guatemala. My stomach had regained most of its viability, but there was still a queasy reminder or two. I never did look into those courses on cooking – wasn’t much interested in food anymore, especially spicy Indian food.
On my last day in India, I tried to find the guy’s home who I’d met at the concert. He lived in a town about an hour outside of New Delhi by bus, and I got there OK but didn’t know how to find him after that. Phones weren’t a great help – between the poor connections and his accent, not much information came through. So I took a couple of taxis trying to find him, and asked a bunch of people about the address. But very few people spoke anything but Hindi, and the signs were no longer bilingual. I finally gave up, but then had the problem of getting back to New Delhi. That took several buses and a lot of asking and waiting at strange bus stops while busses with Hindi destinations whizzed by. It took about three times as long to get back to Delhi as it took to get out to Sahibabad in Gaziabad. But I met a very nice helpful student in the last bus, who helped me figure out where I was going.
No sleep that night. My flight – Delhi to London, London to Miami, Miami to Guatemala – left at 3:25am, with a reporting time of 12:30am. I don’t usually take reporting times too seriously, but this time wanted to get there early because I didn’t yet have a seat assignment, and did not want to sit in the middle of a row for that long flight. The flights were uneventful except for their interminable length, and for the delayed flight leaving London. As it turned out there was only one hour in Miami, barely enough time to make my connection due to the redundant, slow, and user unfriendly security checkpoints. And, an hour was not enough time for my suitcases to make the connection. So I had to live in Guatemala without most of my stuff or much in the way of clean clothes for a couple of days.
Incidentally, the phones to American Airlines in Guatemala don’t work. Really. The Baggage Service Department couldn’t be reached on the number they printed on their own missing bag report. And the main number of AA, as given in the phone book, the internet, and a listing of airline numbers, was nonexistant – or so the phone company claimed. Hence it must be impossible to buy a ticket or check on an arrival time here by calling American Airlines. Seems like a strange way to do business, but...
The long flights, the dislocation and the loss of sleep must have lowered my resistance, because my gastrointestinal system rebelled again the next day, big time. It was diagnosed as giardia, a particularly unpleasant form of diarrhea. I’m still dealing with it, but things seem to be getting better.
But, I am in Guatemala now, with Myrna and her family, and that is great. The green grass and bright clear skies are a welcome change from the haze and dust of India. There is a great family hubbub. Lucia is two years older, still precious but now pretty much aware of just how precious she is. Sofhia is the new family addition of 5 months and, like her mother Julia, has a beautiful white complexion that is set off by her dark hair and features. I met her Father, Juan Carlos, for the first time. He wasn’t even in the picture the last time I was here. Meanwhile, Fernando is in love with Malaika who lives in San Francisco. She is arriving on the 18th and they plan a small family wedding in our home here on the 29th. Then Malaika returns to the USA, and they plan a second, big church wedding celebration here in April. So Myrna and I aren’t the only members of the family with strange and difficult marriage plans. Fernando had wanted to be in the USA now, visiting Malaika’s family, but has had big troubles trying to renew his US visa. He is not a happy camper about that.
I find that my Spanish hasn’t deteriorated too badly over these two years, although I still have a long way to go. I’m at that point where I can pretty much say whatever I want to say, but have a lot of trouble understanding what is said to me. And I am still sometimes saying Ndio instead of Si when I mean “yes,” thank you Swahili. Well, it is a starting point.
On my last day in India, I tried to find the guy’s home who I’d met at the concert. He lived in a town about an hour outside of New Delhi by bus, and I got there OK but didn’t know how to find him after that. Phones weren’t a great help – between the poor connections and his accent, not much information came through. So I took a couple of taxis trying to find him, and asked a bunch of people about the address. But very few people spoke anything but Hindi, and the signs were no longer bilingual. I finally gave up, but then had the problem of getting back to New Delhi. That took several buses and a lot of asking and waiting at strange bus stops while busses with Hindi destinations whizzed by. It took about three times as long to get back to Delhi as it took to get out to Sahibabad in Gaziabad. But I met a very nice helpful student in the last bus, who helped me figure out where I was going.
No sleep that night. My flight – Delhi to London, London to Miami, Miami to Guatemala – left at 3:25am, with a reporting time of 12:30am. I don’t usually take reporting times too seriously, but this time wanted to get there early because I didn’t yet have a seat assignment, and did not want to sit in the middle of a row for that long flight. The flights were uneventful except for their interminable length, and for the delayed flight leaving London. As it turned out there was only one hour in Miami, barely enough time to make my connection due to the redundant, slow, and user unfriendly security checkpoints. And, an hour was not enough time for my suitcases to make the connection. So I had to live in Guatemala without most of my stuff or much in the way of clean clothes for a couple of days.
Incidentally, the phones to American Airlines in Guatemala don’t work. Really. The Baggage Service Department couldn’t be reached on the number they printed on their own missing bag report. And the main number of AA, as given in the phone book, the internet, and a listing of airline numbers, was nonexistant – or so the phone company claimed. Hence it must be impossible to buy a ticket or check on an arrival time here by calling American Airlines. Seems like a strange way to do business, but...
The long flights, the dislocation and the loss of sleep must have lowered my resistance, because my gastrointestinal system rebelled again the next day, big time. It was diagnosed as giardia, a particularly unpleasant form of diarrhea. I’m still dealing with it, but things seem to be getting better.
But, I am in Guatemala now, with Myrna and her family, and that is great. The green grass and bright clear skies are a welcome change from the haze and dust of India. There is a great family hubbub. Lucia is two years older, still precious but now pretty much aware of just how precious she is. Sofhia is the new family addition of 5 months and, like her mother Julia, has a beautiful white complexion that is set off by her dark hair and features. I met her Father, Juan Carlos, for the first time. He wasn’t even in the picture the last time I was here. Meanwhile, Fernando is in love with Malaika who lives in San Francisco. She is arriving on the 18th and they plan a small family wedding in our home here on the 29th. Then Malaika returns to the USA, and they plan a second, big church wedding celebration here in April. So Myrna and I aren’t the only members of the family with strange and difficult marriage plans. Fernando had wanted to be in the USA now, visiting Malaika’s family, but has had big troubles trying to renew his US visa. He is not a happy camper about that.
I find that my Spanish hasn’t deteriorated too badly over these two years, although I still have a long way to go. I’m at that point where I can pretty much say whatever I want to say, but have a lot of trouble understanding what is said to me. And I am still sometimes saying Ndio instead of Si when I mean “yes,” thank you Swahili. Well, it is a starting point.
