Fire and Lightning

I was in line at customs preparing myself for an eight hour layover at the Delhi airport on my way to Sydney from Kathmandu, woot! Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed a curious sign that read, “Airick Vain Gelthens,” being shown by a less than enthusiastic man to the queued up travelers. I did a double take. Could someone have a name so bazaar yet so similar to mine? When in line for customs in a developing country one should never take chances, so I flagged the gentlemen down. “I think this could be me,” I told the vacant eyed airport employee with the sign. He was satisfied and gave me another paper with a name and number on it. I did my best to suss out the purpose of this vague and slightly disconcerting message but all I could gather is that the number was for a travel agent who urgently wanted to talk to me. Thankfully I still had my cell phone with airtime on the Tata Indicom SIM card so after a successful visa check I sat down with my luggage to eat a sandwich and ring the mystery number. I was confident there was just some simple misunderstanding I could ignore or smooth out quickly or that there was actually an Airick who wasn't me but then I could also imagine some catastrophic disaster waiting for me on the other end of the phone. I took a deep breath. Indeed, the number was for me. The travel agent I purchased my Kathmandu to Sydney tickets from in Mumbai over a month prior somehow knew I didn't have a visa for Australia. Ouch! Was that my fault? I swear she told me I didn't need one. She advised me to get an online visa and she would book a flight for a few days later. She had already canceled my tickets for the flight that evening. It was as if India were an inescapable vortex sucking me in and I might be stuck there forever. I hung my head and drug my bags to the prepaid taxi stand to head into the heart of the beast, the Delhi backpacker slum.

Amazingly, I was able to get a visa equivalent for Australia instantly at an internet cafe, a drunk Canadian in a dirty stained T and beads of sweat on his forehead cursing at his Facebook behind me. There was still time to catch my original flight! Enthusiastically, I rang my agent to organize the tickets and rushed off to the airport at 21 mph in a CNG three wheeler. I was relegated to the waiting list but it didn't matter because by midnight I was sitting on a plane ready for fifteen hours of in flight, back of the seat movies courtesy of Air Thai.

Then there was ten days in Sydney, Australia. Thanks Kartini for the beautiful and loving home away from home. There was instantaneous mingling with lovely friends from six years past with wonderful friends of their own for me to meet. It was a cascading triumph of joy. I had my twenty seventh birthday. I wont go into details since my mother reads this blog but let me just say that someone brought three bottles of sparkling wine and they were all empty by the end of the night. We also happened to find a steam sauna. There was camping and fire dancing on the beach complimented by an offshore lightning display. That was super cool but my favorite highlight from my time in Sydney was lecturing third graders about the Earth Goddess, Gaia. They totally got it.

Now I find myself in the fabulous island nation of Papua New Guinea in the twilight of my great adventure. My awesome friend, Sally, is taking care of me here. PNG is a wicked place. It ain't so big but has heaps of rainforest, second only to the Amazon, with the worlds largest butterfly (I hope I see one) and the best snorkeling anywhere. And of course awesomely colorful tribal life. I am pretty relaxed with my month here, keen to do some snorkeling, maybe go on a trek or two and otherwise hangout. I brought a pile of books to massage that ranges from spiritual enlightenment to global catastrophe. I will have read more books this month than ever before, probably five. I am a slow reader. I am also working on my CV and gearing up for a safe landing in the lovely California. Ill blog again from Fresno. Here we go.