arrivals.

Michael Jackson is my son. Now he is gone.

-Auto-rickshaw driver, Agra

Sipping chai in the warmth of a hazy Delhi morning, five stories above the streets of Paharganj, we have decided to seek shelter on the rooftop of our hotel today, while the festivities of Holi take place outside. The scene on the street appears deceptively calm; most of the shops are closed, there are few vehicles --- auto-rickshaws, cycle rickshaws, bikes, even cabs --- and crowds navigating the narrow alley-like street. But look closer and you will see people soaking wet, covered in a rainbow of paint and powder. Vibrant hues appear to give some brightness to the dusty road. Part of me longs to be where the action is, but the smarter thing to do is to avoid the potential chaos, as the lightheartedness could quickly turn to the worst in a moment's notice.

I arrived in Delhi two days ago, after a very long flight to Dubai (one of the longest in the world, apparently) and a very long layover. It's strange to essential lose two days in transit. So first impressions upon arrival? Nothing exactly unexpected. Delhi is like many mega-urban centers in the developing world. There's no real sense of planning, you have both density and sprawl occurring simultaneously, and the ability for drivers of all sorts of vehicles to weave around each other keeps you anxious during your entire ride. Dust fills the air, making contact lenses a poor choice without the protection of sunglasses. And, of course, the very apparent and striking poverty. Again, nothing unexpected, but enough to remind yourself of exactly where you are, of the amounts privilege you have, and of the inherent selfishness that is involved in undertaking this type of leisure travel.

I haven't seen much of the city --- only the bustling of the market by our hotel and the traffic-laden circular neighborhood of Connaught --- but do find myself longing for the rest of our trip, which purposely avoids most of the largest urban centers. On the other hand, there is definitely something invigorating about being in such a frenetic environment.

Speaking of which, there is nothing more frenetic than navigating the train system, which is apparently used by tens of millions daily throughout the country. The first go at is was mostly smooth, except for the minor annoyance of being sent on a goose-chase to figure out whether or not our tickets were legit. As an aside, you can take two views on this: (1) people can be very nice, curious, and genuinely trying to help (regardless of whether they know what they are doing, or (2) people can be jerks and are just trying to screw around with tourists. The truth is probably somewhere in the middle, depending on the situation. So we made it to Agra without issue, and made the obligatory visits to the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort. The photos actually speak for themselves (to be posted later), as both sites are architecturally stunning. And there is definitely a surreal feeling when sitting on the cool marble floor with the Taj Mahal towering over you, providing shade on a hot, dry day.

the worthy shipmates.

My flight departs this afternoon, and after taking a long-ass flight to Dubai, followed by a long-ass layover, I'll be in Delhi. I should mention I'll be traveling with a couple of good friends, both also future docs, and among the three of us, I think we have almost enough knowledge to deal with incessant GI illness. (Toilet paper? Check. Tons of meds? Check. Preparation for non-stop poop jokes? Check). But I digress. Time to meet the travel buds, who will be guest-blogging and, inevitably, exposing the fact that I may make stuff up from time to time (otherwise these entries will end up resembling my first-grade journal, where the entries typically looked this: "today I watched TV"):

First, we have Ammu. Her bloodlines trace back to Kerala, where we will be concluding our travels. Look for her whereever sweets are present, including places where sugar packets are abundant (and even better, free). A future pediatrician, she might actually ask patients to give her candy, instead of the opposite.

Then, there's Virginia (aka Virg). A descendant of Mayan warriors. Cross her and she'll behead you and roll your head down a temple. Well-known for her strange ability to communicate in turkey- and dolphin-speak, look for her in India trying to pick up the languages of the local animals.

And finally, Dave, who will not actually be joining us (though should have been). He's the wise elder among my dysfunctional med school family. Rather than hanging out in India with us, he might just spend the next few weeks frequenting our shower.

reboot.

My current setting: in the cafe area of a Borders, sitting close enough to the restroom that the chemically-smell of cleaning solution regularly wanders its way to my nose. Probably not helping the nausea likely induced this morning from dose #1 of typhoid vaccine. As is the usual case with me, my intent was to be productive and work on this project, but the mind wanders (mine a bit too much) elsewhere, and I'm unable to stop it.

Every once in awhile (I believe the last time was over a year ago), I get the desire to blog. Probably the first of many geeky statements I will write: to repeat, I get the desire to blog. Call it an exercise in introspection. Or a declaration of self-importance. Or a means of self-preservation. Or just a way to escape boredom. But here begins another set of rants, rave, observations, and obsessions, to be housed on the interwebs until I once again lose interest and delete every post.

Okay, there's actually an impetus for starting this again. I'm traveling to India in a couple of weeks and feel compelled to document. Plus, this is a good way of "checking in" with people without having to speak with them directly (read: a way to let the anxious family know that I have not been kidnapped and sold into sexual slavery by pirates).