First impressions

First impression: the holy city is very loud, mainly because of the constant honking which is the main tool to regulate traffic. Blissfully, there is less of the always overly loud Indian music - everything between sweetish Bollywood and all sorts of pop - which pained me during six hours at the airport, followed by seven hours bumpy taxi ride. Quite a lot of white tourists, all of which seem rather " erleuchtet", glowing from spirituality. This makes for a rather relaxed atmosphere.  yesterday, I felt like a baby on speed. Everything just washed over me.  I slept twelve hours today, not sure when I accomplished this feat last, if ever.
Anticipation on the plane. Not feeling ready - not for this, not for the world. I slept about an hour, drunken dreams, then thanked my steward fervently: 8 hours was just enough to develop a bond. On the first day, my soul stuck somewhere in immigration, I feel stressed and not quite arrived, physically exhausted, tired. I notice feelings of competition and comparison with other yogis. Everyone seems psyched to be here. The Scottish woman I shared the taxi with was lovely. In the vast, bland, neon-lit, empty hoteroom, I feel safe yet miserable, homesick; and a stranger among strangers. I meet an incredibly beautiful Israeli woman, a psychologist, at the "German bakery", of which there are many and of course, it doesn't mean anything.