Arrival

Welcome to India! And welcome to the chronicle of my adventures here. As I write to you now, I am actually writing from Canadian soil. But let me explain...

It all began Monday morning, with the last minute packing of bags, backward glances over the shoulder, and a speedy journey to the airport. Then, there was the long lineup to the baggage check-in, followed by the discovery that I wasn't booked on the flight, racing back and forth between united airlines and air canada booths (who were cosharing the flight from toronto to newark), the discovery that the foundation who booked my ticket misspelled my name, and finally the rush through customs and toward the gate.

The flight to Newark was bumpy - and the woman sitting next to me turned to me at the beginning of the turbulence with a look of horror. We wound up holding hands and telling stories to pass the journey, and I was delighted to hear her tales of living in Nigeria for two years, and to share my excitement and nervousness over my own travels. Because of approaching storms (and maybe important travellers after the G20...my own estimation), we were held flying around the Newark airport for about an hour before the airspace opened for us to land, and were told several times that we might have to return to Toronto.

The stopover in Newark lasted a good 7 hours, as the flight to Delhi was delayed somewhat, arriving late from Hong Kong before its refuelling and check-up. Many Indian families and a handful of foreigners crowded the gate, many sleeping on the floor, many wandering the halls of the airport, anticipating the 14 hour journey ahead. Finally on the airplane, I found myself in the second row from the back, next to a morose looking woman who promptly announced to her husband across the aisle that she needed to move: "I don't like the girl sitting next to me" said she. Luckily, my other neighbours were much nicer, and after her daughter switched places with her, the man and woman behind me introduced themselves: "we may as well get to know each other!" Everyone around me seemed to be Indian-Americans, travelling home for the span of a week to a month to visit their families. There was Deepa from Boston, Raj from New Jersey, and Anjli from Ohio. What beautiful names, and delightful ways of speaking...I am already feeling that my English vocabulary could use some help.

I managed to sleep for a decent amount of time on the plane, and took in two movies to pass the time (one set in Ireland in which Tell Me Ma is featured, the other a John Cleese film from the 80s?). It was a very smooth flight, with little turbulence, no crying babies nor any agitated passengers. The bathrooms were clean, the food was interesting (curried lentils, rice, coconut green beans at dinner, chickpea wrap snack, spinach and potato with grapes for breakfast), and the landing smooth. My baggage arrived shortly after I did, with the djembe (cloaked in pyjamas inside of my large suitcase) completely in tact, to my great delight. In the line for customs, I met a retiree from Continental Airlines from Texas, on vacation in India for the first time. He tried to strike up a conversation about the economy, from which I quickly understood his very conservative views on global finance, and decided I was too tired to engage in a debate, so politely nodded and wished him well on his trip.

A wonderful and gracious friend from International Studies at Glendon picked me up from the airport and brought me back to his home, where he has been living for the past two months, and we spent some time reminiscing and catching up (SO lovely) before finally crashing to sleep. With a 7:30 wakeup, we found ourselves driving to the Canadian High Commission, where he works, and now I sit in Moose Lounge, on what is technically Canadian soil, using the internet in a cool air conditioned building (it's 39 degrees celsius outside). We had lunch across the street at the Italian embassy, and so my first meal in India was a panini (irony!), enjoyed while hearing about various peoples' travel plans for the upcoming long weekend (Canada Day = holiday at the Candian High Commission). I'm battling the jetlag with cups of tea and lots of water, and plotting and scheming the next leg of my journey - a train ride from Delhi to Dehradun toward the farm where I will be spending the first month. This upcoming weekend there is a mango festival!

My projects for the next six months have yet to unfold, but I'm looking forward to a festival in October combining art, film, theatre, and music in relation to the earth, as well as some creative activities meshing music and urban gardening. I was thrilled to discover that the intern coordinator at Navdanya has studied West African dance, and decided to bring along some rhythms and a djembe and shakers (courtesy of the lovely and talented Terri Segal in Toronto) so that I can contribute music-making to the festivities and programs of the organization.

Navdanya is a very interesting organization of 5 million farmers across India (70% of the country is agrarian). In case you're interested to read more, www.navdanya.org contains lots of information about the history, the mission, and the movement. It was founded by activist, feminist, scholar Vandana Shiva, who has written extensively on the corporatization of the food system, as well as her concept of earth democracy. I am excited to see how I can understand natural resources and peace (the name of my master's program) here in India.

I leave you with a quote I heard from Naomi Klein, at last Friday night's Shout Out for Global Justice in Toronto, in light of the G20 summit:
In this age of hyper-individualism, there is nothing more unexpected than solidarity. Let's surprise the hell out of them.