Just another silly plane movie, sure, but little did I realize how much this idea of parallel worlds would resonate upon landing in Delhi. We landed at 11am local time yesterday, and just like that, were transported back to our lives four months ago. The same roads, the same apartment... though thankfully not the same heat (it was about 110 degrees when we left in May, and a "cool" 90 degrees now).
I would catch myself looking out the window on Ring Road, and it would feel like nothing had changed and life was perfectly normal living in India. Yet at the same time, picturing so easily what I would be doing if I were in NY. It wasn't culture shock, but more this indescribable surreal feeling that I could be living parallel lives in either city, with both making complete sense.
We arrive back at our apartment. I am grateful as Tyler lugs all four luggages up the three flights of stairs to our flat. Meanwhile, I attend to important matters: trying to turn on the air conditioner. We have just arrived in Delhi and we're already sweating up a storm. Thankfully, it turns on after messing around with a few switches. We high-five and I start to unpack... only to have the power go off, making the room instantly hot again. I have to smile; silly me for thinking everything would go right instantly -- that would be too easy.
Our apartment is just as we left it, and I check on our clothes in the closest. Darn. The monsoon has made everything completely moist and smelling like mold... Oh, but I suppose it's because there is mold on our clothes. Fantastic.
I can't complain too much though, for our landlady makes sure we're completely comfortable. Copious amounts of liquid (cold water, Pepsi, hot chai) gets sent to our room within an hour of arriving, along with tomato and cucumber sandwiches.
Tyler and I make a long list of things our apartment needs... but first thing's first: start up the motorcycle. After Jacques this summer, our motorcycle in Delhi looks... well, incredibly "cute". As it hasn't been ridden in four months, little surprise it won't start. We suppose it's a quick errand to fill it with gas, put air in the flat tire, and jumpstart the battery.
But we should know by now that nothing is ever that quick or easy. We push the bike to the closest gas station and fill it with fuel. Just across the dirt "sidewalk", there are mechanics working on bikes on the side of the street. They've helped us before, and we have faith that it will be a quick task. Half an hour later, the bike still isn't running. The answer, they say, is to get to another repair shop to get a new battery.
So we do the most logical thing: Tyler gets on his bike, while another mechanic gets on his scooter and literally pushes Tyler's bike down the freeway to the shop. Of course, the tires are still a bit flat, so this doesn't necessarily go as smoothly as it could. Only in India!
An hour later, Tyler is back and the bike is good as new. Brand new battery, oil change, general check-up -- all for Rs 2000 (about $50). We run all sorts of errands (groceries! tupperware! pillows!), and have our first Indian meal since we left Delhi in mid-May.
It may sound boring, but after two and a half years of dating long distance, nesting and setting up our house together is nothing short of incredibly romantic.
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