Our Life in Delhi, Monsoon Welcome, on John ki Jaan

Monsoon Welcome – July 12 and 13, 2007

Gitanjali and I were so excited about moving to Delhi we just naturally assumed that the arrival would be flawless and idyllic—perfect weather, a smooth drive from the airport, a quick collapse into bed, a jetlag-free sleep.

Our approach to IG International Airport started our gradual descent in harsh reality. About 20 minutes outside Delhi, we could see lightning illuminating the clouds not too far from the plane. The effect was incredible—white-blue electric streaks arcing between the clouds, creating a three-dimensional landscape in the sky.

Being a habitually nervous flyer (whether in the air or on the way to the airport/train station/bus station), Gitanjali was nearly petrified. When the airplane suddenly dipped while passing through the clouds on its descent to runway, she nearly had a heart-attack.

Of course, the plane landed with only a few tiny bumps, without being struck by lightning or otherwise knocked from the sky. But as we taxied to the gate, we noticed a few raindrops on the windows, but we weren’t too worried—the rain seemed light and we had packed an umbrella in our bags.

Even though they have discontinued the PIO Card-Holders line, we still breezed through immigration because we had rushed to the immigration counters before most of the plane disembarked. Then, after a quick detour to the Duty-Free for scotch, gin, and cigarettes (offerings to placate the house-gods), we hurried to the baggage carousel.

We managed to get two baggage carts, and our luggage appeared within 30 minutes (which wasn’t bad considering that we were among the first to check-in in New York). The best thing was that neither of us was the least bit tired. The whole experience was nearly ideal.

But when I grabbed the bags from the conveyor belt, I noticed they were drenched. We quickly realized the gentle rain that had greeted us had turned into a deluge and the ground crew unloading the plane clearly made no attempt to cover or otherwise protect the luggage.

After passing through the customs Green Channel line without incident, we proceeded to search for the driver who had been sent for us. We passed through the reception area four times, staring at the three dozen or so drivers waving placards, but we didn’t see the guy.

(We later learned he had been shown a photograph of us and given a sign with our names written in bright blue and red marker. The only way we could have missed him or he could have missed us is if he had never showed.)

As Gitanjali searched for a phone to call her father, who had booked the delinquent cabbie, a hawker, spotting the aimless-looking white guy, assailed me, asking if we wanted a taxi. I ignored him for a few minutes, but once I figured out we didn’t have too many options, I asked him, “kitna paisa?” (“how much?”).

He wanted to know where we were going, and I told him “Panchshila Park.” When he replied, “450,” I quickly said, “350.” He repeated, “450,” and I persisted, “350.” At this point, Gitanjali approached us, and he immediately began speaking with her because he realized the white guy was going to haggle with him.

Naturally, Gitanjali, being a good NRI, agreed to 450 without the slightest bit of protest, but she did ask him about his affiliation to make sure he was legitimate. He cab stand was near us, and he showed us his driver’s permit, so we accepted his offer at 450.

The man led us outside the terminal into a moderate shower. (At least the deluge had ended.) The instant we pushed the baggage cart outside, several porters chased after us, waiting until we couldn’t push it any further—which didn’t take too long. As soon as we stopped, four short, wiry guys grabbed our bags and followed the other man to the cab.

Now, we had four medium-sized suitcases, each about 50 pounds (22.6 kg according to the scales at the check-in counter at JFK), so we technically needed a larger vehicle—ideally, a Toyota Qualis—to carry everything. We questioned the man about the size of the cab he had, and he assured us our luggage would fit.