On the ground.

We made it to Hyderabad about 4 hours ago. I’m sitting in the company office—the boss’s office actually; The Mr.’s desk is still being set-up. He’s making the rounds, I’m hiding out. Tired doesn’t begin to cover it. We left for the airport Monday afternoon. It’s now Wednesday afternoon. Even if we account for the 12 ½ hour time difference, it’s still a fucking long time later. Layovers, delays, the usual. I was a Viking and didn’t complain (much).

The Air India flight from LA to Delhi was an adventure in vintage French aircraft. I have to hand it to the pilot(s) and the flightcrew who got us there in one piece. Yay for pills that make you sleepy, if not actually asleep. The domestic flight from Delhi to Hyderabad was the molecular opposite of the long haul. Kingfisher Airlines reminds me of Virgin Atlantic; pretty, red, lots of niceties. They had mist inside the airplane while we sat on the runway—you know, like they have at theme parks and schmanzy restaurant patios in the desert.

Fancy or not, everyone jumps up the minute the plane hits the tarmac. At first I chalked it up to the super long flight and the fact that the Air India folks didn’t seem very strict about anything. Nope, same deal on Kingfisher. We’re still driving around on the runway for about 5 minutes; people are jerking around but they don’t care, and neither does the flightcrew. Good little hall-monitor that I am, at first I disapproved, and then realized I never do it because the fear of a.) falling over and b.) getting reprimanded is too deeply ingrained. Plus on a U.S. flight I’d be the only one.

A company driver picked us up (in a shiny car with major A/C) and took us to the guesthouse where we’ll be staying. It’s actually a flat in a new building (parts are still being built). It’s fairly posh: marble floors and A/C units and major fans in every room. Our room has an ensuite bathroom and cools down pretty quickly. It’s hot. But inside it’s very nice. The company building has a tiled and covered roof where a local restaurant caters lunch every day. A breezy balmy setting.

I haven’t seen much. The drive from the airport into town goes through the middle of the city. Motorcycles, bikes, pedestrians, trucks, cars, autorickshaws—everyone just goes, and honks. Constantly. Apparently, as a driver, you’re not responsible for anything not directly in front of you. So, honking lets you know that there’s another vehicle behind/next to you. Traffic cops stand on little pedestal/gogo dancer platforms and blow their whistles and are generally ignored. Saw a family of three on a motorcycle, but that’s not remarkable or so I’m told. My favorite thing so far are the women in what look to me like fancy saris riding motorcycles.

I might teach English while I’m here. We’ll see. As far as I understand it, I would potentially be designing a basic composition course, focused on this particular business environment. I could build a curriculum to leave behind. It would be about 2-3 hours a week face to face. I figure if I run it like a regular comp course that’s about 12 hours of work a week. Kind of a major commitment when I have so much else to handle while I’m here plus of course just *exploring*. Still, it’s tempting because it would ground me and let me build some relationships with folks here—beyond being the Mrs. At any rate, I may well get a corner to work in: A/C, an office chair, and an internet connection and I’m set.

I just need to get through today; stay awake until a reasonable hour, unpack, and sleep at least 9 hours straight. No telling what I’ll get up to if I can do that.