By ATIBA ROUGIER, 7/22/2015. Day One: 24 Hours Later—where is my plane!?

After leaving my apt in NYC on Monday, July 20th @ noon, I arrive at my boarding in Bhopal, India, shortly before midnight on Tuesday, July 21…now you do the Math.

Once in Bhopal, the ride from the airport was a bit troubling only because I am in a foreign country, it is late at night, I am sans a working mobile device, and I am at the mercy of my cab-driver who doesn’t seem to know where he is going, and we do not speak the same language—it is natural to feel uncertain at moments like these. Every time he gets out the car, which was roughly four times—to ask directions I would fear that this is the moment I will have to fight for my life, that either I will be mugged, beaten, raped, and or killed. After spending hours upon hours in an aircraft and then spending hours waiting for another aircraft, one just wishes for the comforts of a shower and a bed to lay one’s head, and not to have adrenaline running through one’s veins in the “fight or flight” mode.

Let me back track a few before I end for the night. The 14 hour flight from JFK to New Delhi was a joy—I enjoyed the meals and I slept for eight hours—thanks to Ativan and Benadryl. Spending time with my family at the airport before my departure was bitter sweet—as soon as I went through security, it hits, and as we wave good-bye for the sixth time, and as I turned away walking down the stairs, a flood of tears, uncontrollably, starts pouring down my cheeks. As Bob Marley says, “Is this is love that I am feeling?” They stood there watching me walk away until I was no longer in view—writing this now makes me tear.

I lucked out and had the two seats next to me empty the entire flight so I got into the baby-pose and passed out. In New Delhi, I had a four hour delay that turns into six hours because my connecting flight was two hours late. I made a friend from Bhutan who was also waiting for the connecting flight to Bhopal—his name is Namgyal. He asked if he could take a selfie of us after the fourth hour together and I obliged, when across the world, why not!? He was kind and we kept each other company until our flight, even sharing a meal together. Two strangers stranded at a foreign airport, both first timers to India (update: he e-mailed me the next morning with the kindness words). The flight to Bhopal was also pleasant. I sat next to a man named Suvash who is a government official and he tells me about New versus Old Bhopal.

After the safe but nerve-racking cab ride, because of my inexperience with this part of the world, and the general fear of what could be, I came to my living quarters, unpacked, showered, and went to bed.Queens-20150720-00222 (2)