flaneurban

When people hear you’re going to India, the advice flows if they’ve been before or not. The smells, the traffic, the poverty, don’t brush your teeth with tap water… It can go on endlessly. The first thing that hits you–at the airport–is the smoke. They are harvesting the rice crops around the city, and once they harvest they burn the fields. The airplane started sucking in the smoky air as soon as we touched down. It was a pronounced change of air in the cabin.

Rarefied thin air from 33,000 feet to smoky warm city air. It actually was a nice welcome, paired with people scurrying around to connect the jetways. Then, in you go, down the seemingly miles long corridor to passport control. Your arrival is rewarded with a beautiful sea of copper discs and welcoming hands.

Finally, you’re in India.