On the ground. Part 1: In the tropical house

The very fact that I’m writing only on my third day shows that I’m experiencing quite a lot here. And again, I have only about 20 minutes to write a short post before I have to head to my next occupation.

I’ll start at the beginning.

After having had a good flight with a pleasant conversation with my Delhiite neighbour (who by the way invited me to a wedding), I landed in Delhi on Thursday early morning. My first association once off the plane was the tropical house in Cologne’s Zoo. The climate hit me like a wet, hot towel and it was not easy to breathe through normally (though it was only 7 am). On the way out through the masses of people who queued up for passport control and customs, I lost my neighbour which left me a bit helpless, as I had planned to count on his help in the case nobody from the school would be there to receive me.

Seemingly, the worst case happened: Nobody was there and I had no idea how to grab a taxi. I managed to exchange money and asked some German hippie tourists where to get a prepaid taxi (I had been told to take prepaid cabs only in order not be ripped off).  The airport had two exits on the right and the left, which both led to taxi stands (funnily none in the front of the building). I chose the right one (in both senses): The first thing I saw outside was a young man holding a paper with my name on it. You can imagine my relief. After not having slept, being overwhelmed by the climate and slightly scared of following the wrong paths, it was just great to have someone take care of me.

The guy was Rahul (pronounced totally different, but this is how I call him) or Baba, a co-student who joined my buddy Ravindr (again, please ignore the writing, it sounds like this at least) or Gogo. (Buddies are students of the same batch who are the main contact person for any queries or needs). On the way to the campus, we grabbed a couple of water bottles at a local shop in Gurgaon, which proved to be real helpful, as I need at least 3 liters a day and there are no bottles for sale on the campus. This is the first time I noticed how I was being stared at by the way.

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In 2008, I had been selected for the European Business School ESCP’s “Master in International Management” Programme, which was to be taught in two different countries. For my 7 month first semester, I had chosen their partner school “Management Development Institute” (MDI) in Gurgaon, a suburb of Delhi. Not having been to India before, and coming from a non-business background in humanities, it was an exciting time, which I documented on my blog.