After many many years of stifled wanderlust, I have finally begun to travel. Last year marked the beginning, but in very small steps. I went to Armenia, the land of my father, and Russia, the land of my birth. In both countries, I was always surrounded by family and friends. Not once did I have to make any travel arrangements, book hotels, or even pick a museum. I was lucky enough in Russia to be with my grandmother, who planned absolutely everything as a graduation present from college. In Armenia, my father drove his American imported Jeep from the mountains of Karabagh to the green valleys of Dilijan, without me lifting a finger, except to help feed his rabbits, and pet my new best friend, Koto, the most beautiful dog in the world.
This year, thanks in large part to the bravery instilled in me by a very dear person, I have become much bolder. Some examples: I climbed up what seemed to be at the time a 100 foot high wall of ice, (it was in fact probably 6 feet, but perhaps the inaccuracy can be explained by my vision and depth perception failing from fear), and I even ride a bicycle on the sidewalk. Fortune favors the bold, as the saying goes, and so, despite all odds, I managed to get time, tickets, a passport, a visa and a tour guide to go to India this year. Part of me, for the sake of this dear friend, wishes it wasn't the first real independent traveling I was doing in my life, but another part of me is so grateful that it's finally happening. And why not make as big of a splash as possible?
So, in two weeks, I will arrive in Delhi, most likely with no one to greet me except a driver from the hotel. I decided to go a few days ahead of Gary, this dear one I keep mentioning for those of you who don't know yet, because I hoped to see a very old friend who was stationed in Delhi while working for the World Bank. She, unfortunately, may be required to stay in Orissa for her work, which, while disappointing for me, is very exciting for her. She'll be living in a village that's as remote as one can imagine, and I wish I had the time to travel there and visit her.
Many of my friends know my obsession with bollywood movies, postcolonial Indian literature, and spicy South Indian food, so in a way, coming to India is also a return, because I'm beginning to think that while Russia is the land of my birth, Armenia the land of my father, America the land of my citizenship, my heart belongs to India. Phir bi dil hai hindustani.
