From Brisbane to Kochi

28 days. 9,231 kilometres away. New environment, new culture, new language. I had spoken with Indian friends and family about what to expect from our trip, and those conversations came with plenty of warnings. Don't drink the water. BYO toilet paper. It will be hot. It will be crowded. When asked in the prior weeks what I was hoping to get out of the experience, I struggled to think of an answer. I was nervous and saw it as something to be survived. But as the departure day approached, my excitement grew, as did my gratitude that Abhi's family - parents Ajay and Bindu, and brother Vivek - would be with us. If they'd told me that it was customary to greet people by shaking feet instead of hands, I would have done it. I think they were more nervous about the trip than I was.

Our friends Jamie and Daniel kindly agreed to drive me and Abhi to the airport. Ajay had been unable to check in online the day before, and we were unable to print our boarding passes from the kiosks once we arrived. A Singapore Airlines staff member took our passports and visas. After a few minutes he was able to manually print our boarding passes, including Ajay's. The look of relief on Bindu's face as she hugged him showed how much anxiety she'd been holding in. Only then did she tell us that all the most essential items were in her suitcase, just in case Ajay wasn't allowed through. We rolled our suitcases under the departure sign without stopping, which was probably the first time I've skipped the compulsory 'photo under the departure sign' step in my whole life.

Our flight left Brisbane at 2:30pm. Ajay kindly swapped seats with me so I could be between Abhi and Viv, since I was allocated a seat 15 rows ahead on my own. Bindu sat behind us. I thank God for Ajay's generosity in that moment because I was shaking a little before the plane took off, and being next to Abhi was a great comfort, irrational as that is.

I enjoyed the food and the service on that flight, but found that 'Free unlimited Wi-Fi' was a generous description. Abhi used the opportunity to catch up on horror movies and true crime. Every time I looked across there was a new violent thing happening on his screen. Mum had gifted me the best neck pillow in the world two days before. I'd convinced Abhi to order one online just in case it arrived in time, but unfortunately it was delivered to our house shortly after we'd passed through customs, so we could only watch through the security cameras using an app on our phones.

The plane landed in Singapore after 7 hours. But because we'd been delayed sitting on the tarmac both before and after the flight, we had only 25 minutes before boarding for the next flight began. Between the five of us, we managed to figure out how to move between terminals using the airport train. Boarding still hadn't started when we arrived at the gate, so I used the time to jog and speedwalk around since we'd be sitting for another 4 hours. Sitting for extended periods is really not my thing, so I didn't mind if I looked a bit weird.

The second flight was from Singapore to Kochi, and I didn't see a single non-Indian apart from the airline staff. People were staring when I boarded, including one man who was sitting right beside me when I stood in the aisle waiting to move to my seat. He looked away when I glanced at him, then returned to staring as soon as I looked ahead again. Abhi teased that it was only because of how I'd been running around like a crazy person outside the gate.

In AEST the second flight was from 12:30am to 4:30am, but in Kochi time we were set to arrive at midnight. I watched a Cirque de Soleil documentary that Ajay suggested (they do know me well), then slept for about an hour. By the time we touched down in Kochi we were all feeling a bit dazed, but I couldn't believe we were really in India and the excitement of it pumped me up. I thanked God for a safe flight, and for the assurance that His presence was with us just as much in India as it was back home. Off the plane, the airport was spacious and clean. We stopped on the way out to take a photo with an elephant statue, but my dear husband was a bit too tired to appreciate the moment.

The customs officers sat at glass-fronted desks in a line, and we approched one at a time. We passed our boarding passes, passports and visas through a hole in the screen and sat while they reviewed. A few extra questions came my way. Your name is Caitlin? First time in India? Then, to Abhi in Malayalam, This is your wife? When instructed, I obediently pressed my fingers to the scanner. Left four, then right four, then both thumbs. Then they let us through.

Once we'd collected our bags from the carousel, we left the airport. Stepping out from the air-conditioning into the midnight heat and humidity was a shock. For a moment I wondered if I'd be able to breathe in the thick air, but then realised it was just my 4am brain cell being dramatic. Bindu's parents, John (Appacha) and Susan (Ammachi), greeted us warmly outside. It was nice to see them again after over a year, and kind of them to meet us.

On the car drive home, Ajay chatted in Malayalam with the driver. I was able to understand a few words, aanu for is and ningal for you, but nothing more than that. The hour-long drive felt much shorter because there was so much to look at, even at night. The single-lane road was inconsistent in almost evey way - winding; sometimes paved with tarmac, sometimes with pavers, sometimes unfinished; sometimes the lanes were marked, mostly not; lined on either side with stores, houses, and many, many elegant churches. The taxi wandered from one side of the road to the other, avoiding potholes, wild dogs and the occasional scooter. At one point we squeezed past an excavator as it dug a hole in the road, with one man in the cab and another perched precariously on the frame in front, coke can in hand.

After some time we left the urban area behind and turned onto a bumpy road the width of a single car, surrounded by dense forest. The road twisted and turned until finally we reached the house. It was a large, square dwelling of brick and concrete, with tiled floors and dark timber around the doors and windows. We unloaded our bags, and were shown inside through the living room, dining room, main kitchen and separate working kitchen. The kitchens were hot and stuffy - I was not looking forward to cooking in there. Appacha showed me the outdoor tank of natural gas that fills overnight, which would be used to power the stovetop the next morning.

Abhi and I were shown to our room. The good news: it had a sitting toilet. The not-so-good news: no air conditioning. I thought someone had told me the rooms would be air conditioned, but I guess that was wrong. Fortunately the ceiling fan worked well. I didn't want to bother anyone with a request for the hot water pump to be turned on, so I took a cold shower instead. The ventilation came from a bladed fan pointing through a hole in the wall, but we couldn't find the switch to turn it on.

I brushed my teeth, careful to use my bottled water from the plane, then collapsed into the wide bed beside Abhi. It was short; my toes poked over the end - and hard - but none of that could stop me from drifting off to sleep. With so much unfamiliar around us, and many unknowns still to come, I felt deep thankfulness that still each day would end with my best friend beside me.

Below: our room, the indoor rock garden, water filter, dining room and bathroom fan.