The plane landed in New Delhi at about two o’clock in the morning. Awaking from the slumber that I was in, and after much commotion and confusion, Sree and I shuffled off the plane, I felt electric. Finally, the moment I had anticipated for a whole semester, nay, a whole year was here. I had just touched down in India.

The next hour and a half was dedicated to going through customs and retrieving our luggage. After waiting in line for about ten minutes for customs(which I found to be oddly short), I walked up to the desk, passport in hand, ready.

The customs agent looks at me and says: “Do you have your visa?”

I hand him the printed online eVisa that I had applied for, and he just looks back at me with a blank stare and points me toward the eVisa line(stupid American).

This line was not as short and took a hell of a lot longer. Walking up for a second time to the customs desk I felt anxious: “Oh shit, what if I forgot something, what if I printed the wrong paper, what if they don’t let me in the country, what if I’m in the wrong line again!?” But all these worries were redundant and I was allowed entry.

Grabbing our bags, and exchanging our currency, we finally made it out of the airport and met our driver. Communication was minimal, the driver knew where we had to go and Sree and I were both exhausted.

We drove for about an hour to our resting place(a guest house at an army club).

Upon arrival we were met by a man, I’m assuming was the caretaker of the establishment. The driver said something in Hindi, the manager said something back. The manager glanced at Sree and myself, and then said something to the driver. Keep in mind, while all of this is going on, not a single light was on; we’re in the dark(myself quite literally, stupid American can only speak english and broken french).

Finally, we were led to our room. Upon seeing the bed, I threw myself onto it and let the mosquitoes serenade me with their buzzing in my ear for four hours.

We awoke at seven o’clock in the morning(0700 for those on military time), and begin to prepare for our day trip to Agra. But before we did anything we had to have Chai. I donned a button up shirt, a pair of khaki pants, and my goofy tourist hat that would become infamous by the end of the trip(consult Sree on the matter, I’m sure he’ll tell you).

After a three hour drive through the countryside we arrive in Agra. Driving through the streets, bobbing and weaving through traffic I observe the daily life for the average Indian fly by: street vendors, stands for food and drink, and cows. Cows roam about undisturbed, at times even walking into traffic becoming apart of the ebb and flow of the constant and erratic traffic.

We finally arrive at our destination: the Taj Mahal. The heat beat down on us, and oppressed us to no end. Meeting our tour guide, who looks no older than Sree and I, maybe even younger, we make our way towards the monument.

Walking through the West Gate, I immediately feel a sense of awe. Walking in the footsteps of contemporary dignitaries, those of old, and the hundreds of thousands of workers that have maintained this wonder makes me feel a sense of historical glee. The monument sat and glistened in the Agra heat, the marble looked as if it had just been built the day before, but this monument had endured ages: simply amazing!

This moment is short lived as our professional photographer begins to make Sree and I take photos(much to Sree’s frustration). Meandering through throngs of people, disrupting other visitors, and causing a ruckus or two, Sree comments: “This feels like Senior pictures all over again.”

To which I reply: “Yeah, but only with a famous and historical back drop.”

Our photographer moves us across the courtyard, silly pose after silly pose(again much to Sree’s disdain). Finally our last photo is taken and our tour guide takes us inside the Taj.

Making our way inside, with anxious tourists shoulder to shoulder, and the occasional nudge, we arrived in the antechamber. Inside this room is where the late Queen(the inspiration for the Taj) and the late King(the architect of the Taj) are buried.

After a moments glance at the tombs, an enthusiastic and charismatic guide(who seemed literally to come out of the walls) begins to educate me on the ornamentation within the marble walls. Shining a light onto one of the many colored stones induces it to illuminate. My mind then begins to wander and wonder about how beautiful the inside must look on a full moon.

We exit through the South Gate and proceed toward the village adjacent to the Taj. It’s in this village that we go to a marble shop and get our pictures developed. This seems pretty rudimentary, but we were told not to bring money to the Taj per a family friend’s advice.

So, while I’m busy being pitched a sale on a marble box, Sree comes up to me and says: “Yo, I don’t have any money, you’re gonna have to buy these pictures,”(luckily they took credit cards).

Finally, we took an auto(a three wheeled yellow box) car back to our original vehicle. It’s in this auto ride that our tour guide informs us that our tour had cost $25 USD each. Sree and I both looked at each other with one expression:”Oh fuck,”(they didn’t take credit cards).

Arriving back to our car, Sree begins to tell our driver that we have no money to pay the tour guide, and promises that he will be paid back as soon as we make it back to our luggage. The situation is diffused, and we finally begin our trip back to Delhi. Our first full day in India was not even half over.