It is nice to meet you, India!

Date: June 15, 2009
Time: 11:34 p.m. Indian time
Location: Brindavan Hotel on M.G. Road in Bangalore, India

I want you to experience India with me. I want you to see it and feel every flavor of it to the last drop and detail. So I will take you with me. I will paint you a picture with my words spiced with my emotions.
I am here in the mometn when the airplane begins to decend. My eyes are heavy. My mind is finally calm. All the anxiety has been spent. how can this big plane fly through the air, hours and hours over the ocean? Surely, it will just fall out of the sky! I try to remind myself that air travel is the safest form of transport. I know that a person is more likely to have an accident and die on their way to work rather than in an airplane. Yet teh news reports fo the recent Air France flight crash just off the coast of Brazil makes me cringe with fear. Surely, there must have been eager young travelers like ourselves, excited to backpack and spend their summer exploring Brazil on that flight. What terror they must have felt when their plane tumbled and twirled in the air. I cannot imagine. Just the thought of it makes my heart tight and my breath short. My soul cries for those people and even more so for their families that are caught in the should of and could of sorrows.
Really, I am not afraid of the peacefulness of death. Rather, I am afraid of the transition, the terror, and the difficulty of those last moments in life.
So actually, our plane really did not fall out of the sky. Landing! I am so happy to get off the airplane and touch land that I really don't feel the stress and anxiety of meeting India for the first time. As we pass each steward and airline employee, I thank them for the "wonderful" flight. "It is wonderful because we landed," I tell Steve as we laugh half delerious and loopy with jello bodies.

Off the massive airplane, the two hundred plus passengers form a mob of a line. "What is this for?" I wonder outloud. We peer over all the short local Indian people and see four health specialists putting a thermometer into the ear of each arriving person. Then, we see the sign and are given documents to sign regarding the swine flu. I fill out the mandatory survey and sign that I do not have a temperature and have NOT had any symtoms of the flu inthe past twenty-four hours. After the swine flu temperature check and documentation, the line forms once again for a security check.

At 4:40 a.m. local Indian time, I take off my shoes and belt to show that I am indeed not bringing in any bombs. Finally, we pass the swine flu and security checks. We wait anxiously for our cardboard boxes to appear. The conveyor belt seems to be constipated . The mob of 200 arriving passengers eagerly search for their suitcases or duffel bags. Finally a 1/2 hour later we greet our big boxes with hugs, grasping them firmly to place them all on the cart.

We THINK we are headed out the front doors of the airport when an immigration officer stops us.
"What is in the box?" he asks.
"Bicyle" I reply.
"What will you do with bicycle" he demands
"We are excited to bicycle from here to the southern most tip of India"
"Where will you start" he asks confused.
"Here in Bangalore" I re-state.
His eyes grow wide
"How much is bicycle? You have receipt for purchase of bicyle?" He seems confused
"I have no receipt, but I have a route map." I show him our map of where we plan to go. Finally he takes a closer look. He smiles, "I never know anybody that do this," he says, and then, "Good luck! Take care!"


At 5:50, we walk out the doors of the airport and India welcomes us with a pink sunrise outlined by silver clouds...and Manju! Manju is our driver that John set up for us. He is holding a sign "Mr. Steve and Mrs Teresa Cavanagh" He immediatly recognizes us with our large boxes. We immediately connect with Manju and his warm smile. He explains that the airport is new. John calls and Manju affirms our safe arrival.

First impressions of India--- Many small little markets and shops. It strangely reminds me of Honduras, yet everything is written in English because of the British influence. A ghost city-- all shades and doors are drawn closed at six a.m. Then, there is a familiar smile. "John!" He stands on a street corner outside of his hotel. Manju pulls over and it is such a warm welcoming to see John after such a long night/day's worth of traveling. He hops into the jeep and accompanies us to our quaint hotel. Luckely our phone call over skype from home over the internet worked and we have a reservation under STEVE for room number 82 on the third floor. 750 ruppes a night (fifteen dollars)nice bed, large room, windows, television, bucket shower... It is not glamorous, but it is a room. It is where we spend our first few hours in India. Even though we are eager to explore, our bodies tell us that it is night because at home, it IS night. Our eyes will not allow us to keep going. There is no more adrennaline to keep us on emergency awake mode. With an initial greeting of friendship and a safe arrival, we sleep. We dream. We pray for those who did NOT arrive safely to their destination on Air France.

Still lethargic, we wake up and like zombies, we find an internet cafew to write friends and family. We find our first lunch outside of a supermarket- dahl beans, rice, roti wheat bread for 60 rupees (a little over a dollar for everything). We finda book store to purchase maps for the states where we plan to visit.

It is midnight. I must get sleep before we start our first day of cycling tomorrow!

Quick four favorite moments to remember!
1. India's sun rise greeting our safe landing in Bangalore!
2. Seeing John on the street corner, feeling the true beauty of friendship!
3. The simple exchange of smiles while purchasing bread and nuts in a supermarket. The truth that people are people all over the world and that most are filled with goodness.
4. Dinner with Steve and John at a Vegetarian Indian Restaurant. The food was great, but even better the celebration of friendship and the beginning of a new adventure!