Three Trips to India and a Lot of Lessons
Delhi Airport Arrival Hall
Over the last three months, I’ve made three trips to Hyderabad preparing for our family’s move to India.
Officially, they were work trips.
Unofficially, they were scouting missions.
By the end of them, I’d found our apartment, Jack’s school, his doctors, our caregiver, our driver, and our cleaning lady.
I’d also spent enough time on airplanes to earn Air Canada’s Super Elite status, which comes with some nice benefits but is probably not a healthy lifestyle choice.
Trip One: What Have We Gotten Ourselves Into?
The first trip was mostly about seeing Hyderabad for the first time.
Like any sensible person arriving in a city of 10 million people, I decided to visit Charminar by myself.
My Uber driver quickly decided that transportation was only one of the services he intended to provide. At various points he offered financial advice, sightseeing recommendations, and an opportunity to meet beautiful girls in saris.
I declined.
When I later told local colleagues where I’d gone alone, there was a long silence.
Then someone asked, “Why?”
Apparently I had violated several corporate security guidelines.
Possibly all of them.
The trip also introduced me to Hyderabad traffic.
Traffic in Toronto is annoying.
Traffic in Hyderabad feels more like a group project.
Everybody appears to be making it up as they go.
Twice I got caught in monsoon rainstorms.
What should have been normal drives turned into four- and five-hour adventures.
At one point I wasn’t sure if I was commuting or relocating.
Trip Two: Finding a Home
The second trip was apartment hunting and school visits.
I looked at fifteen apartments.
Most were either “furnished” or “semi-furnished.”
What I learned is that “furnished” often means the previous tenant left behind every couch they ever owned.
There were couches everywhere.
At one point I became convinced there would be a couch hidden in a closet.
Meanwhile, “semi-furnished” usually meant the apartment was completely empty except for an air conditioner and a hot water heater.
Apparently those count as furniture.
One apartment was nearly 6,000 square feet with its own private pool.
It was beautiful.
It was also completely ridiculous.
The apartment we chose wasn’t the biggest or fanciest.
It simply felt like somewhere we could live.
On one drive between viewings I passed a market selling decapitated sheep heads laid out with the same pride that vendors at St. Lawrence Market display fresh produce.
A useful reminder that I was still very far from Toronto.
The school search was just as memorable.
One school felt like I’d wandered into a World Vision commercial.
Thankfully, the next one was completely different.
Within minutes I knew we’d found the right place for Jack.
Trip Three: Doctors, Reality, and a Plan
The third trip focused on doctors, hospitals, and building the support network we’d need.
One children’s hospital was unlike anything I’d ever seen.
People everywhere.
Families everywhere.
Visitors wandering around barefoot.
Absolute chaos.
Yet somehow everything worked.
That became one of my biggest lessons about India.
Things often look chaotic right up until the moment you realize they’re actually working.
By this point, Hyderabad was starting to feel familiar.
I found our caregiver, Vishal.
Our driver, Ganesh.
Our cleaning lady, Moomi.
I even visited IKEA.
It was exactly like IKEA everywhere else in the world, except there were no Swedish meatballs.
I’m still not over that.
So Here We Are
Three months ago, India was an idea.
Today we have an apartment, a school, doctors, a caregiver, a driver, and a plan.
There will undoubtedly be culture shocks, mistakes, misunderstandings, and moments where we wonder what we’ve gotten ourselves into.
But after three trips, two monsoons, fifteen apartments, one sheep-head market, several questionable decisions, and a lot of traffic, we’re ready.
At least I think we are.
Ask me again after we move.