new delhi.

as many of bryndia's buses in india, the uncomfortable ride from rishikesh to delhi was, in fact, a completely different length of time than they were told. anticipating a full nights sleep with an appropriate morning arrival time, the pair wasn't surprised when they were shaken awake roughly by their toothy driver at four thirty in the morning. delhi, delhi, delhi, he chanted as he wagged his head smiling. up, up, out, out. the two jumped off the bus and into an empty dark street.

here were multiple bare bed frames made of bamboo and stretched fabric set up on the sidewalk. each one held a family of at least four, all fully clothed, crunched together, snoring loudly. bryn wished aloud for a similar bed.

instead, the two slowly shuffled their way towards the inter state bus terminus, a gigantic building made up of a barren open floor plan, the walls filled with tiny windows where bus tickets would be sold to various locations around the country. of course, each window was sealed up tightly then, each employee, and dozens of dirty children, slept soundly in jagged rows of newspaper matresses on the tiled floor. here, bryn & india squatted, sleepily, kicking away cockroaches as they snuck up upon them and their bags, until the only other building in site, a bright mcdonald's, opened it's doors at seven am.

mcdonald's breakfast in india is a wonderful thing. a prodominantly hindu country, eating beef is mostly forbidden, and definately frowned upon, and mcdonald's has created a completely vegetarian menu for it's fast food loving customers. egg mcmuffins and grilled cheese sandwiches and garden burgers. the two tried not to fall asleep in their hashbrowns and, at eight o clock, rode a rickshaw the thirty minutes across the city to the american embassy.

here, the two surrendered every piece of electronic they had in their large backs, and entered the stark white building. despite the early hour, the embassy was flooded with people, almost exclusively indians awaiting approval for american visas. bryn & india made their way to a back room where they met sam, the most american man you can imagine, who listened to india's sob story patiently while he looked up her information on the datebase. well, sam said, i would ask you to prove yourself but there's no doubt in my mind that this is you. he swung his computer monitor around and displayed three archived passport photos of india, ranging from age two to age twelve. apparently, those ears are really recognizable.

two hours and one hundred dollars later, india had a brand new united states passport.

easy as pie became a bit more difficult when sam told india that she would have to then proceed to the indian foreign residents registration office, otherwise known as the frro, to obtain a new exit visa. bryn's hope of catching a bus that night was shattered upon their arrival to the office. startling different than the american embassy, the frro was dirty, sticky, loud, harsh, and unorganized. india waited in a long line of sweating foreigners for two hours, was thrown from one employee to another to another before finally being told that she would have to return tomorrrow to collect her visa.

frustrated and grumpy, the pair spent too many hours wandering in the capital city's smog trying to find a cheap hotel. when they finally did, the two fell on to the bed, sleeping through dinner and through the night.

india awoke the next morning to the hotel door slamming loudly. stomping into the room, bryn began shouting. india's six am wake up call had been caused by first the hotel, and then the corner coffee chain, both failing to have the sports network channel that would be playing the nba finals. it goes without saying that bryn loves basketball. but game seven in a serious rivalry with his team going for their second straight championship? it was unthinkable that he would miss it. the two loaded up their backpacks and walked into the early morning, determined to find a television with the game.

walking along a wide boulevard filled with luxary hotels, the two entered five requesting the channel. each time, they were turned away. beginning to panic, india said a tiny prayer to the nba gods, and entered into the glossy lobby of the ramada plaza. after asking the receptionist, she was ushered back to the restaurant, where two large flatscreens hung above the buffet. clicking quickly through the remote, about to lose hope, kobe bryant's dripping face flashed across the screen. success! elated, bryn sunk into a plush chair halfway through the second quarter. for the next two hours, bryn & india cheered for lamar, derek and kobe, spent all together too much money on a fancy fruit and pastry buffet breakfast, and watched the lakers win the 2010 nba championship.

that afternoon, the two returned to the frro, where india, again, waited in a long line and bryn made friends with one boy from afghanistan whose father was a jet pilot in the army, a swede who had been in the country for 7 years & now was desperately trying to get out, and a young student from tribal africa who dreamed of visiting new york.

after sitting and talking to a wide variety of foreigners who were interested why two very white americans were at the frro, they learned many interesting things... afghani's had their own room due to the large number who came legally (or illegally) to get better medical attention at a cheaper rate than in their home country. that many people from africa came to india to get a better education at english speaking schools. and that some people who overstayed their exit visa struggled to get out of the country, while others fought to get extensions to stay as long as possible.

hours later, india's visa was ready, and the two returned to the inter state bus station. the building had transformed from ominously empty to packed full of shouting travlers. lost among all the hindi signs, bryn scanned the windows on the wall for anything indicating dharamsala. out of the dark crowds walked two sweet faced monks, their maroon robes a light of hope in the chaos. bryn & india followed the tibetans to a corner window and booked two tickets for a government bus to the mountain city of dharamsala.