Old Delhi in Pictures

Old Delhi must be the place people think of when they talk about the heat, crowds, and poverty of India.  It was founded in 1639 as the capital of the Mughal empire, and it's got some of the most cramped, crowded streets in the city - and that's saying a lot.

We began with a walk down Chandi Chowk, then turned South and toured Jawal Masjid, the largest mosque in India.  I knew in advance that they would ask us to thoroughly cover up to enter, but I was unprepared for the horrific fashion statement they asked of all Western women who didn't have their own cover-all robe.

Really, now.

Despite our pastels, the mosque was amazing.  During worship, it can fit as many as 25,000 prostrate bodies at a time.  Three great gates, four towers, and two minarets 40 m high each.

After jostling our way through the crowds, we were relieved to duck into a side street and marvel at the wide array of goods available at the Spice Market.  I got heartburn just from inhaling.

Of course, no visit to inner Delhi would be complete without at least three or four wandering cows.  Unlike the specimens on my street, these seemed to have no owners and just stood around on the pavement all day.

How now, brown cow?

There were obviously a million more pictures taken of the day which weren't posted here.  I've started a Flickr Photostream for anyone who's more interested in a visual trip through India (and who wants to ignore my blabbering).  The link is here, or in the sidebar, along with links to my YouTube page.

Your Daily Delhi Delight

This gentleman ...

... has a car bumper tied to his back with red twine.

With green twine, he has the car bumper tied to his motorcycle.

Really, this is how you transport car parts in India?  What happens when there's no one to detach you when you get where your going?  And what if it's windy?

Through the System

The startup period has been a bit more protracted than I'm used to, due to some particularly difficult logistics.  In the U.S., I'm used walking to and from the office.  Now, to rush home a tummy-troubled editor, it's a huge ordeal to contact a cab, make sure the guy whose car you get into is the one you've called, stew through an hour and a half of weaving through traffic, and then settle with a driver who may or may not speak English.  One result is that drivers tend to show up even when they haven't been called, or take odd routes and end up getting lost.  Last Saturday at 11 am, a driver I hadn't met knocked on my door holding a payment slip with my name on it, and he thought I was ready to go to work.  Whatever gave him that idea?

The other problem is the lack of independent movement that comes from having so much surrounding you. Things are crowded.  People are everywhere.  There isn't much of the personal space we're used to out West.  This means you have to negotiate through a whole city of competing bodies. No wonder the roads are so snarled.  No wonder drivers creep up into every inch of available space.  If they were to politely defer to each of their neighbors, they would never get anywhere.

Your correspondent is both a victim and a complicating factor.  I may find it annoying to have to sit in a car every morning, but I have to notice the effort it takes to get me from one place to another.  A case of "Delhi-belly" is frustrating, as is the missed time at work, but how frustrating is it to be the team who needs my signature for the visa paperwork?  How frustrating is it that they can't even hand off my mobile phone so I can call them when I'm home sick?

Eventually the routine will fall into place, and I'll get used to the atmosphere enough to reach my previous level of production.  In the meantime, it's just working through the system.  The only cure is patience and time.

... Clearly

Power Surge and Shock

Living in India, you learn quickly not to take things for granted.  Even essential services like the power supply are notoriously inconsistent.  Despite a concerted effort for more renewable resources, power cuts are frequent in big cities and smaller localities have it even worse.  Many outlets have special generators to even out the surges, so your electronics won't be zapped if, for instance, you turn on your hairdryer just as somebody else is turning off their bedside lamp.

Your correspondent is subject to the same ebb and flow as the power in Delhi.  With immersion into an entirely new culture, taking in every detail requires a lot of energy.  It's not hard to feel a little over-stimulated after a few days.  Yesterday's Republic Day break was a good chance to shut down, recharge the batteries, and refuel for the long stay ahead.

Unfortunately, this is easier said than done. It's tiring to shoo off every rickshaw-wallah who assumes the blonde woman in the street is lost. An American sitting in a park will attract attention from almost everybody - especially small children, who aren't afraid to walk right up to stare and giggle.  Unlike in America, where we've worked very hard to cultivate assimilation, in India an expatriate can still be a surprise. You may get used to your surroundings but I'm not sure that your surroundings get used to you.

This is not to say that the people here aren't friendly. Merely talking to one of those children will make her entire face light up.  The point is, it's a culture shock I hadn't considered.  Every day is still full of new and exciting things, but to avoid burnout a person so far from home needs a mental adapter.  It takes a little bit of extra power just to turn 'off'.

Four Things I Wasn't Expecting To Do Today

1) Head to McDonald's for lunch with my coworkers and order a McAloo Tikki from the veg menu.
2) Say, "You really shouldn't be driving into oncoming traffic" and sincerely mean it.
3) Use the phrase "Sport Utility Rickshaw".
4) Enjoy a huge Indian dinner at a deer park with a lovely group of British expat editors.  Happy birthday, John!

How Bazaar

The five most dangerous words in the American vocabulary are: "Favorable exchange rate. Look, discounts!".

After finally getting over jetlag, I ventured out today to my first bazaar.  I cut my teeth on Dilli Haat, a market which is unique because it's run by the state of India and each of the vendors is rotated out every fifteen days.  You pay a small fee to enter, there are fewer touts, and every region of India is represented by food tents, textiles, handcrafts, jewelry, and anything else you can think of.

At an Indian bazaar, the object is to haggle.  The merchants are shocked, almost a little insulted, if you're silly enough to accept the first price you're quoted.  By the end of the day, I realized I would quickly have to get over the buzz of so many shawls on sale for so little.  By Indian standards, it wasn't an inexpensive excursion at all!  If you count up the total in dollars, on the other hand, I make out like a bandit, and had a delicious lunch as well.

Best of all, I got to meet this fine gentleman, representing the deserts of Rajasthan.  Well worth the basheesh.