Dear God.... (a letter to my mother)

I'm beat.  No other way to put it.  Sat down to write my mother, let her know I was okay.  The words came out, whether they are well written or not, I simply don't give a damn.  Like I said, I'm Beat.  I have simply copied and pasted the letter I wrote to my mother, it should give you an idea of things:

Dear Mother,

     It occurs to me that this is the first letter I've ever really written you.  I'll tell you, this is as good of time to do it as any.
     First you should know: I made it!  The planes were no problem.  Met a woman who was meeting her boyfriend here, he'd already been here one month.  Got a taxi with them to the hostel and tried to get some sleep last night.  Woke up this morning. 
     This is not just a different world, but one of unimaginable existence.  There is piss and shit all over the walkways in some parts.  Dogs everyhwhere.  I mean, dogs are everywhere! Beggars, cars, rickshaws, buses, trains, and pedestrians (youtube "how to cross the street in India" to see what I mean.  And actually, crossing the streets is one of my favorite things to do here, and I wish you could do the same in the US).  You get to smell defecation/urine about 50% of the time, delicious food 25% of the time, lovely incense 10% of the time, and the other 15% of the time you can't smell anything because the pollution and dust and dirt have plugged your sinuses and are beginning to go to work on a massive headache that will last the day.  Rickshaw Taxis (google image search these) are a service whose fee is constantly negotiable.  At one point today, near the busy "tourist" section, (which, my dear mother, you would not even be able to handle.  I don't mean this in a bad way but trust me, it makes Tijuana look like a Fred Meyer) we couldn't get a ride back to where we were staying for less than 60rps.  That is 60 Indian Rupees, which equates to about $1.20 USD and is a total ripoff.  For comparison, we paid only 10rps to get there, the USD equivalent being 20 cents.  While bargaining we kept getting turned town, moving along down toward the next group of rickshaws to try our luck with other service men.  The kicker is that we had to walk passed a man who I have no doubt in my mind had just died, or was so ill and stricken with some exotic Rigor Mortis while still living that he would perish soon enough; on the loud dusty street corner while westerners haggled for a cab because $1.20 wasn't good enough for them, because they only wanted to pay 60 cents instead.
    That was the low point, in addition to the mamed and lame children and mothers asking for change, then tugging at you and asking over and over and over again as they follow you down the street.  Today was a rough lesson.  No, it wasn't a rough lesson really, but it certainly was LIFE at its finest and at its most arbitrary.  It appears there just are not enough real resources for so many people, and there are folks who pay dearly, who pay with their lives, because of that.      
     This is no sad magazine story, no picture, no essay; this was my day today.  All in all, three of us spent 8 hours in this environment attempting to buy train tickets out of New Delhi.  Guess what?  We never even accomplished that!  6 different "official" train stations, of which all were filled with con men.  Quite literally I spent the day trying to simply accomplish the menial task of purchasing a train ticket.  I got so desperate towards the end of the day, I started just wanting a bus ticket.  But, bus tickets were no simpler to acquire, so giving up became the choice of the day.  It's hot and loud.  Loud and Hot. 
     Oh yeah, don't forget that it is around 110 degrees and humid.  I took a picture of just how exhausted I looked, with the intention of mailing it to you to show you what a day can do to a person, but alas there are no USB ports on these computers.  Trust me, I am red, sloth-like in speed, have a headache, and do not readily remember being so completely beaten both physically and mentally at the same time.  I attempted to pay for a roll of toilet paper just moments before walking in to type this letter, and my brain had a hard time with the simple math recquired to pay for it.  I'm beat.  But kind of in a good way, for that which does not kill us makes us stronger; and that which beats us harder, makes us sharper.
     Any college kid I hear make a complaint of "life" and its stresses, has no idea what they are talking about.  Repeat: No Idea.
     It is not all bad though, you should not worry for me.  It is not dangerous, not any more so than Seattle could be if you didn't have common sense, the food is DELICIOUS(!), people are incredibly nice and friendly (though sometimes it is because they want to screw you over on one thing or another), the colors are beautiful, and at every moment I am very well aware that I AM ALIVE, no matter how crummy I may feel at the moment.  I will nap, watch television I can't understand, try to read, and start again tomorrow.  Also be aware, that with all this ridiculousness and sad personal situations around me, I am smiling.  It is amazing to see that there really is a world full of people that are the same as you and me, but living in an absolutely different culture.  And that is to put it mildly.  The only way to really explain it, would be to come and join me. 
     Anyhow, I am just fine:-)  Sorry if I written too much but this is the first thing I've written in 72 hours and so much has happened, not happened, and yet to happen.  My life has not changed yet, but it also can't be the same again.  Were I to be put back into my own bed tomorrow, watching a movie with Kingston and drinking a can of Coldsmoke, I would be very well aware that I'd be in bliss, lucky to be able to to so in this mad mad world. 
     And today, is only day one.
     I have 64 more to go, and cannot wait to see what happens, what I'll see, do, and experience.  If you've ever needed a confirmation that life is good and that you have nothing to worry about, take it from me right now, life can be a fine endeavor.  And we all very realistically get only one, repeat: ONE chance to do it.
Bye for now, I need rest. 
Love you and talk to you soon.
Tell everybody that I say "Nameste" and I'll write again when I can.

Kyle