A Recap: The beginning.

August was spent in the ambassador, anxiously awaiting the life that I was about to begin. It was a time when outfits were chosen with the assurance that the day would end with them drenched in sweat. It was an overload of stimuli and emotions. It was settling in and convincing myself that this was the right choice. It was no hunger all day because of the heat, followed by ravenous hunger at night. August was transition, learning and relearning, while September was meeting myself in a new place.It was deciding who I wanted to be and how I wanted to spend my time. It was excitement for the future and beginning to envision a life here that was mine.

Laila and I began our journey as lone 2022-2023 Fulbrighters in Delhi with an extended stay at the Ambassador Hotel. During that time, we braved the city and learned that absolutely nothing in this city is what we thought it would be. No one told us that we were going to have roommates during orientation, so imagine my surprise to arrive at my hotel room door, unlocked the door, and found that it was chained shut. Laila woke up from what I can only imagine was a light sleep, to unchain the door and let me in. I awkwardly tried to grab my bag from the man who helped me bring it upstairs, but he insisted on carrying it all the way into the room––it was heavy so I didn't mind.

The culture shock was coupled with the extreme heat that we felt on an everyday basis. It was over 100 degrees farneheit with a 60% + humidity everyday. There were points during that week and a half where I had to pack extra clothes for our daily outings because I was sweating so much upon exiting any air conditioned building.

Orientation. After three days, it's safe to say that I didn't feel oriented at all. I was jetlagged, confused, and a little homesick. I think that we all felt that way though. I'm thankful that I managed to make some friends during this turbulent transition period.

My birthday.

Everyone always asks you if you feel older on your birthday. for twenty-two years, I responded a resounding "no" or an inauthentic "yes." But twenty-three was different. I woke on my birthday a different person than when I fell asleep that night. It was the first day that I took an auto-rickshaw by myself. I was terrified. Everyone told me not to travel alone. Anywhere. While there were helpful parts of our orientation, I felt like a lot of it was simply for liability purposes. Instead of outlying the risks of living in this city and pointing to facts about safety here, they simply told us what we should and shouldn't do. Binary guidelines were not only unrealistic, but they also didn't give us the necessary information to act in accordance to our own risk tolerances. I learned quickly, however, that I could indeed take an auto alone, and because I had to tour the apartment, I did. I met my current landlord (pictured on the bottom right) and toured the apartment that I now live in. Upon my return to orientation, my entire cohort sang me happy birthday and brought out a cake. I was mortified. I don't like getting a lot of attention and I didn't want anyone to think that I was self centered and needed the day to be all about me. In my head, I counted twenty-three years without much thought or expectation, because I knew I would have so much trouble if I set expectations in a place with so much uncertainty and where I wasn't close with anyone.

After cake, a group of us decided to see a mosque and a market. Little did I know how formative my first and as of now, only visit to Chandi Chowk would be. When I tell people now, two months later, that I visited Chandi Chowk on my third day in Delhi, their jaws drop. There were more people in that part of the city than I have ever seen before in my entire life. Culture shock doesn't do those feelings justice––enamored, overwhelmed, and perspective are the words that come to mind when I look back on that experience.

If you know anything about me, you know that I tend to do things at the last minute. Before I left for India, I lost my debit card...

Everything happens in cash here, which was such a foreign concept to me as in America, we are rapidly transitioning away from cash. To pay my deposit and first months rent, I needed to take out cash. Luckily, my mom found a convenient loophole, or so we thought. She used a wire to transfer me the money that I needed. We both thought it was a brilliant idea and that it would be seamlessly executed, but that, unfortunately wasn't the case. After two days of leapfrogging through the city, to a total of twelve banks, we found someone who could complete the transfer. He sat inside the shop pictured, at a tiny desk that he pulled out to reveal a bench where we sat. While he counted out the money for us, I snuck a selfie of Laila and I, soaking up the humidity and ambiance of the last place I ever thought I would have picked up a wire transfer from my lovely mother who answered my panicked calls in the middle of the night (her time) asking her to please call the bank and tell them that it is in deed me picking up the money and not a scammer.

Our search for the perfect coffee shop. Spoiler alert: we didn't find it. Laila and I knew that for the duration of our fellowship we would be conducting literature reviews, analyzing data, and writing about our findings. While both of us have the luxury to go to our universities, we wanted to find another place to do work that brought us some semblance of normalcy.

While the photos of this beautifully aesthetic coffee shop seem like the perfect place to sit and work, remember that looks can be deceiving. The shop was full of loud conversation from opening to close, resulting in an environment that wasn't conducive to our focus efforts. It took me a month to find the coffee shop I was looking for. When I finally did, I felt like I won the lottery.