Any traveler's first thoughts of India will most likely be summed up by one single word: "hectic."
And I am one of the ones lucky enough to get picked up and taken to a friend's house rather than having to take a taxi to a hotel. Yet, I still ended up wandering the airport with a look like a sparrow in the shadow of a cobra's hood. Well, I may exaggerate just a bit, but because of security reasons, Abhinav was not able to meet me inside the airport, and of course I chose the one of two exits where he was not. As I wrestle my suitcases through the doors, past the guards, it's like a red-carpet experience. Men in turbans line the walkway, holding signs for their expected guests, but of course, my name would not appear on any of those signs. After convincing the guards to let me back in, seeing that no one was there for me, I paid 80 rupees (almost $2) for 15 second phone call, not unusual for a tourist with no other option.

But our meeting was classic, just like in one of those cheesy chick flicks, ,my lover materializes from the crowd and everyone else disappears, like a blurred photograph. For that moment, we are alone in a sea of faces. He embraces me for what feels like forever then lightly kisses my lips, serious public display for India. Then it's time to go and I'm already drenched in sweat.

The heat in thisy part of India is comparable to Florida, where I'm from. The difference, however, is in Florida, you can walk around practically nude, no kidding, they do it on campus. In India, however, this is not only disrespectful to the culture, it is dangerous. Not only is eve-teasing, basically a legal term for hassling women, a problem, but there are stories of women being groped on public transport, and even in their cars while stopped at red lights. And, naturally, I have come at the hottest time of year, the middle of August.

The first thing I notice as we walk to the car are giant ants crossing the sidewalk as casually as pedestrians. Little did I know at the time that I would be co-habitating with these guys for the rest of my stay. Not that they bother me at all, but they are everywhere, apparently as a result of the monsoon: marching single file up and down the wall next to the kitchen sink, in the sugar, even crawling on my ear as I sleep. The drive home is comparable to a ride on Space Mountain at Disney World: fast and bumpy, but lacking the loops of more modern roller coasters. Then streets are relatively quiet at this time of night, with only multitudes of stray dogs roaming around. I see my first cow lounging on the side of the highway.