From Mumbai

It seems like a lifetime ago since I was in New York and even longer since I was home. First let me tell you about Kuwait.

We got off the plane and walked to a shuttle bus to take us to the terminal. It was about 115 degrees ouside! But it's ok, because it's a dry heat. That's bullshit by the way. The men in the airport were wearing every garment one would imagine a Muslim man wearing. A popular one was the long white robe with the checkered headscarf. And many of the women were fully vailed. Most of them gawked at me. I listened to my Jewish Hip Hop hoping no one would come up to me.

A few people did talk to me and they were all nice. Two young men in white robes approached me, which startled me. They asked me a question in Arabic and said I ddin't speak and they went away. They were probably asking for directions. Most of the time, I stared at a Nathan's Hot Dog ad that was half in English and half Arabic. I learned something in that airport: we're all similar and different: for example, their Nathan's delivers, ours doesn't.

I was very lonely in the airport. I've been throughout the trip. I thought it would be a good self-reflection opportunity, epecially since I don't feel like I really need people, I only need myself. Boy have I been wrong so far.

I felt better once we flew over Mumbai. But I'm lonely again. I don't know who to trust here (plenty of people) and who not to (I'm guessing plenty of people as well). The taxi ride from the airport is something everyone should do. It's about an hour and the first thing you see is extreme poverty. One cute little girl waved to me right when we exited the airport. It was so sweet and so heartbreaking. It would have been the taxi ride from hell, but I've been to China. We only almost died 47 times here as opposed to 834 times in a 10 minute taxi ride in China. Anyway, I wish I could have convinced someone to come with me, but I'll make it through. Take care everyone.