Chapter 1

    Take a Leap of Faith

    

   There is one quality which one must possess to win, and that is definiteness of purpose, the knowledge of what one wants, and a burning desire to possess it.
~  Napoleon Hill

Day 1: November 16, 2008.

Eleven thousand kilometres ago, I believed in myself and took a leap of faith. I decided to travel to exotic India without booking any sort of hotel accommodations, joining a tour group, or getting needles for tropical illnesses. I brought no cell phone, laptop, GPS device, maps, compass, or phrase book. I had just 2,000 rupees of Indian cash and some American money. I would have been an underprepared reject as a contestant on The Amazing Race television show.

It was a sunny afternoon when I landed at the Delhi airport. I began my search for a pre-paid taxi booth. A passenger from India sitting beside me on the plane had suggested this to me. When I found the booth, I decided to save half the cost of a taxi and hired an auto-rickshaw for 150 rupees instead. I asked the driver to take me to the hotel I had just chosen from my guidebook.

My life’s greatest adventure began as the rickshaw drove me along a busy street. I had my first look at Delhi. It was very noisy, with hundreds of cars honking nonstop. Every car and rickshaw was in bumper-to-bumper contact, and many of them were moving in opposite directions within the narrow lanes of traffic. Crowds of people were walking everywhere – in the streets and crossing into the wild traffic with no fear. I even saw a few cows strolling into the craziness, and no one seemed to mind. I could not see myself being able to walk in this kind of chaos. I was so worried that an accident might occur at any minute. This was nothing like anything I had ever seen or could have envisioned happening back home.

This does not seem like anything matching the dreams I had of India. What am I doing here?

I also witnessed people throwing garbage into the street, acting as if trash-filled streets were normal. What’s more, Delhi was polluted with dirt and exhaust fumes – I could hardly distinguish any attractive or clean buildings. The whole scene was an eye-opening experience for me; I was not sure how I was going to handle this unexpected situation.

I have seen many incredible photographs on different websites, and what I am seeing now is not at all like those pictures. I am in the capital city of this country – why are the living conditions so far beyond my imagination? I wonder what the rest of this country will be like.

The rickshaw driver skillfully squeezed through the madness of the traffic as if it were a natural thing. He drove me for over half an hour, and finally came to the hotel. It was an aged building situated in old Delhi in the middle of a very busy street. Everything was happening in this narrow, fifteen-foot-wide street: vegetables were being sold out in the open, motorbikes and rickshaws were honking as they passed by every minute, and animals were running around freely. I could not imagine myself having a peaceful night’s sleep in such a chaotic neighbourhood. I was in great need of peace and quiet after spending two days packing for my one-hundred-day trip and the long flight.

Instead of getting out of the rickshaw, I asked the driver to take me to another hotel that was quieter. But he did not understand English. Somehow he recognized that I was not crazy about the noisy street, and so he drove me for another ten minutes to a luxurious hotel. The price of 2,000 rupees was more than the Indian cash that I had available, and I was also travelling on a budget, so I asked him to take me to a less expensive hotel, priced under 1,000 rupees, maybe. He did not seem able to make out what I was saying. I pointed at my guidebook and used body language to try to explain that I wanted to go to another hotel listed there. He refused to go anywhere else, although I offered to pay him more money. Tired, and needing to settle in somewhere, I began to lose my patience and get frustrated.

I forgot why I had chosen to come to India and why I had wanted to land in Delhi in the first place. At that moment, I decided to escape this confusion and congestion as soon as possible. I wanted to find a way to leave Delhi that night, and to catch up on my sleep.
      At last I pulled out 100 rupees to bribe the driver to take me to the railway station. He eventually understood, and dropped me off there. Carrying my two bags, I walked around the huge station, following the Indian airline passenger’s suggestion to try to find the foreigners’ counter, where I would face a shorter line-up to purchase a second-class ticket. But when I found it, the sign on the counter said that it was closed on Sundays. I looked at the extremely long line-up for the standard class in the intolerably dirty, crowded station. 
       Am I willing to stand in line with five hundred other people to buy a train ticket? Why am I here, enduring these difficulties? Am I going to be able to get through this journey? God, what is Your purpose in calling me to this country?



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