Somehow even at this hour, India still manages to be loud -- there are dogs barking outside in a bohemian rhapsody of wails and turf wars. I blink my eyes open and wonder what to do.
Ah well, I might as well unpack! It's my fourth apartment in six months, and this time I'm in it for the long-haul. I unpack and set up my room, excited to be back in India once again. There's a feeling of "newness" and excitement I have not felt in a long time.
7am and it already feels like mid-day. I head over to my old apartment, expecting to meet the movers for my bed, dining table, and patio swing. A call. The mover wants to know whether he should still come. Um, YES.
"I cannot find movers to help." That's okay, I reply -- I will find someone. Twenty minutes later, there are now literally ten men standing around my dining room table, staring and strategizing on the plan of attack. I soon determine that two of these men are the actual movers; another is the driver, and the rest are watching and directing efforts.
Furniture finally stored in the van, I smile at how easy this all is...
I clearly pressed my luck, for I get a call from the mover five minutes later. "How on earth can they be lost already?", I wonder. "Petrol nuhee hai," the driver says. No more gas! Seriously?!
And so begins a comedy of errors that sometimes seems only possible in India. We circle around to find the vehicle, which is now just stalled in the middle of road. The two movers appear uncertain what to do, until the driver climbs into our car. Both movers walk away to pee, and I wonder who's now watching my stuff. Certain my questions will only stall this further, we head out and drive through traffic (how is there this much traffic at 8am?!) to find a petrol pump, and fill a pail with gas.
We get back to the movers' truck, and they realize they have nothing to pour the gas into the tank with. So they search the sidewalks looking for a bottle, which they cut up and use as a funnel for the gas. I sit and stare incredulously, while Amjad smiles and says: "This is India!"
Indeed it is, and I'm happy to be back -- quirks and all. On my first day back, there's a leadership training around quality improvement, where a key theme is ownership and finding solutions, rather than blaming. Not rocket science, but a necessary reminder of the type of outlook I want to embrace during my time here. I make a list of all the small changes I want to incorporate to improve my daily quality of life... small, obvious things in the US that somehow become challenging and at times almost impossible here -- like making sure there's breakfast food in the house, getting my cell phone to work, and having internet at home.
While I used to complain about jet lag, I now think it's like some type of wonder drug that gives me time in the morning to get everything done and check off my boxes. Maybe in the end, that's why we get it... our body's way of giving us borrowed time to settle in, get our lives in order, and ready to tackle whatever new adventure awaits.
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