Monsoon Season

Hi everyone!

Okay, so most people know that I am leaving for India in three days. What you probably don’t know is how horribly little packing I’ve done, so let me explain.

No, there is too much to explain. Let me sum up.

My basement looks like the Gulf Coast in the middle of August. There is clothing in desperate need of washing, like, everywhere. On the bed. On the floor. Draped over an as-yet-packed suitcase. Hanging from the fan. There’s another pile of clothing I intend to pack but have since judged “unfit”, mostly meaning that it’s all in desperate need or ironing/stain removal/burning. There are papers and folders and books everywhere as I try to decide what to bring, what not to bring, and what to throw out altogether. I think I even saw a downed tugboat or two.

I have my visa, finally, but I also have a strong suspicion that I’m going to lose my passport before Monday.

I am flying out of JFK at 7:45 Monday evening, rockin’ Air India with a short layover in London to briefly demonstrate how fantastic I am to the British before embarking on the last leg of my journay. I’ll get to Delhi at 10:30pm Tuesday night, local time, and am currently thanking every star in the sky that there will (allegedly) be someone meeting me at the airport so I don’t have to deal with pushy rickshaw drivers and even pushier pickpockets.

My program ends on December 4th, and I’ll be returning to the States at some point later in the month. I don’t yet know when. My parents are mostly convinced that I’m going to die. I’m remaining slightly more optimistic, expecting only torrid bouts of dysentery or bonebreak fever.

And mostly, I’m just busy being in awe that it’s already about that time. I leave for India on Monday, yes, but more importanly I leave for India to start my senior year of college on Monday. And THAT’S way scarier.

It’s so weird to see people I’m used to interacting with on a regular basis and thinking, “I guess I’ll catch you on the flip… hemisphere!” You all should expect great accomplishments from me in the next six months, as well as riveting Youtube documentaries on the wonders of malarial prophylaxis and patriarchal mating rites. My love to all of you, and I miss y’all already!

Peace, Love, and Possibly A Thorough Reading of the Bhagavad Gita,

~ Rick

I have my visa! Good until 6 January, multiple entry. Commence the collective sigh of relief.

The traveller’s clinic was much further away than I’d first suspected, and hiking 7 blocks uptwon in the hot mid-afternoon sun was less refreshing than it was agonizing, with dress shoes chafing blisters that had long since taken root in my heels and my tie loosened around my neck but still managing to feel too tight.

The clinic itself had a bit of a hole-in-the-wall feel, on the fourth floor of an unmarked building in a tucked away suite. Reservations started to well up in my chest, but the nurse who took me in set my fears at ease almost immediately. She was charming and personable, a handsome woman in her late fifties or maybe early sixties, down to earth but decked out with just enough gold jewelry that I thought my stepmother would like her. She spoke casually, but her vast reserves of knowledge were clear in the ease with which we discussed my options. (I had done my homework, too.)

We decided to forego both rabies and, more hesitantly on my part, Japanese encephalitis. Getting the immunizations I did need – only Hep A and polio, along with a tuberculosis screening – wasn’t bad at all. The pills I started today, however, for Typhoid innoculation? Are hell.

19 days and counting till I depart for foreign pastures, and the only thing on that last list I’ve managed to procure so far is a battery. Florida this Saturday to spend a week with the mum, then home for ten days to pack. And I pick up my malaria meds today.

Still no visa. This has the potential to get interesting.

I leave for India in one month, from today.

I got official clearance to apply for my student visa, but don’t have the necessary documents yet. A relative tipped me off to a clinic where I can get all of my immunizations, and it’s a 3 minute walk from my office. Which is great.

This is really happening. I’m so not ready, but so crazy excited at the same time.

(Note to self: before leaving, it would be wise to purchase (1) more undershirts, (2) a new suitcase, (3) a framed backpack, (4) a laptop battery and (5) an external harddrive. I’m just sayin’.)

I bought my plane ticket today.

Holy Hell. That means it’s real.

“What is going on here?” you might be asking yourself. “Where the hell am I?” Both are perfectly valid questions, and both among the first to come to mind when I wake up each morning, irrespective of the answers.

This blog is a corollary to My Divine Comedy. Yes, I’m Rick (still), and currently settling in to the D.C. area to begin a five-week internship doing International Affairs for a rockin’ agency. At the end of that five weeks, I’ll be:

1) In Florida for a few days to be with my mother, who is currently undergoing chemotherapy.
2) Home for about two weeks to pack and make last minute preparations.
& 3) Leaving for India on July 14th.

It’s the final reason here, really, that has led me to establish a linked but distinctly separate space, to write about the adventures I’m sure to stumble upon in my time at the other end of the earth. I will be in India until the beginning of December, and then I’m not quite sure where the world will take me. I have over a month until I have to return to school in the States for my final semester. So who knows?

The moniker and name of this blog are inspired by the fact that I will, in fact, be touching down in Delhi in the fierce middle of monsoon season, a fact that both tittilates and terrifies me. You see, I’m an asthmatic, and the two things that trigger my particular brand of chronic lung deficiency are heat and humidity. Do you know what monsoon season is? One-twenty Fahrenheit and all-rain, all-the-time.

This blog will be a heartwarming account of the treacheries I overcome in order to achieve survival. That is, of course, if I achieve survival.