' from the backseat of an autorickshaw ' series / 🌎 travel / india

from the backseat of an autorickshaw: jet lag and humid temps

backseat_auto2jet lag_tabClaiming our baggage is taking forever.

When our the kids’ stroller finally arrives, I silently praise God and proceed to buckle in my cranky kids. Everyone is staring (as strollers are as common here as snow), but I’m relieved that I won’t need to worry about the kids running off.

At last, after leaving the circus that is Kochi International Airport (we had to go through a security check again after deplaning—why?!), we emerge out to the street level.

It’s about 4:30 am local time, and I’m not sure if I feel hungry, tired, or awake enough not to fall asleep. I walk into a wave of humidity, which is so heavy it feels as though I’m being wrapped in an army blanket that’s been soaking in hot water and is now smothering my whole body and face.

kochi airport

Kochi International Airport / Photo credit: Original photo

My in-laws are supposed to be meeting us here, but there’s no way to call them, as none of our cell phones work here. We look through the throngs of people waiting for their relatives to emerge from the airport. We know they’re arriving in a large van…After several minutes, we spot them.

We meet up with my husband’s parents and climb aboard, where my sister-in-law is sitting with her two kids. My husband’s immediate family members (including his brother, who joined us from Dubai) are finally all together after several years. I settle in for the two-hour drive to Thrissur.

As the trees and landscape whiz by, I find it hard to believe it’s already been two years since my last visit. I feel wide awake, as it’s only about 3 pm back in the US. Peanut falls asleep (she loves car rides!) and Pumpkin is dazed by the new sights and sounds all around her. At age three she can’t possibly understand the journey we’ve undertaken.

The rocking of the moving vehicle finally overpowers me, and I surrender to a hideous slumber.


coconut palms

Tropical sunrise

We reach the house and someone shakes me awake. The sun is just coming up. I vaguely remember the others removing all the bags and pieces of luggage from the van, and I’m too sleepy to do the final count, or look for the diaper bag.

When my husband and I get the kids situated in our room upstairs, we let them sleep and decide to have breakfast, and maybe sleep later in the day. We want to adjust to IST as soon as possible.

tender coconut stall

Tender coconut stall / Photo credit: Jen/The Haute Mommy Handbook

I’m feeling okay after breakfast, and we hang out and talk with the others. My brother-in-law (BIL) is excited and a little nervous about his wedding next week.

After lunch, around 12:30 pm, I feel a wave of exhaustion sweep over me, and I can’t think about anything but going to bed. My circadian rhythms, still on US time, think it’s around midnight, and I can’t keep my eyes open.

Just before we go up for a nap, my mother-in-law (MIL) reminds us that the day after tomorrow, we are all going into town to buy our wedding sarees and suits, meet my BIL’s fiancée and family, and help pick out her wedding gold.

Gotta adjust to IST. Gotta adjust to IST. Gotta adjust to IST……


Next: Shopping For Sarees and Wedding Gold





3 thoughts on “from the backseat of an autorickshaw: jet lag and humid temps

  1. Pingback: 8 things to experience in thrissur, india | The Haute Mommy Handbook

  2. Pingback: From The Backseat Of An Autorickshaw: Flying Emirates and Visiting Dubai | The Haute Mommy Handbook

  3. Pingback: From The Backseat Of An Autorickshaw: Shopping For Sarees and Wedding Gold | The Haute Mommy Handbook

Share your opinion and join the discussion!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s