It is 1:45 am here in India, which means I am wide awake, as it is 1:45ish pm where I last came from. Let me just give you a feel for what my very juvenile understanding of New Delhi is thus far.
I am lying here on a mattress about an inch thick, my sleeping bag the necessary barrier in between me and the bedding. There is a small framed picture of a Hindu goddess above my head and an extremely questionable shower. There are slats of glass in the bathroom, to which lend me an ear to the outside world which I have not yet seen in the light. I hear the hacking of a youngish sounding maiden and the laughter between men. I hear the occasional whizzing sound of a rickshaw passing by, but really this is more tucked in an alleyway. I am sure the true chaos of the streets will be witnessed early in the morning. My lodging is at the world famous Smyle Inn hostel close to the busy Cannought Place of New Delhi.
As I first came in to the airport past immigration, I was struck with a smoky haze all abouts. There was a small troop of monks, bald and enrobed with the vibrant orange that they are so often associated with. My next most obvious observation as I was walking through customs reading speedily the signs outstretched, looking for a ‘Laura Roseman’ piece of paper, was the vast quantities of men. You had to scan over 20 or 30 men to see one, usually small round, adorned female. I found my tiny Indian with the right sign. We waited together for my ride. As I sat some MORE (thank you 12.5 hour flight, but I shouldn’t complain because thanks to Richard for giving me a pass and mom arranging my flight, I got the cushy 1st), I simply observed the buzzing Eastern essence of humanity. Another odd observance, even though I had been told, was how many people spoke English, but not just to foreigners, but amongst themselves.
When the man received the phone call about the ride we quickly scurried outside in to the most un-fresh, severely tainted surroundings that I have ever known. The pollution was so thick, it seemed a sick joke. In fact, the air was so foul that I quickly acquired a headache from the toxins. I mean damn that’s some shit! It’s hard for me to even go any further. This was by far the most blinding realization. It looked like a day of extremely heavy fog and in the distance there was a tall building with sparks flying from it, construction workers pounding away at 11 pm, stray skinny puppies crossing wild and narrow lanes of traffic. This by far surpassed any culture shock that I have experienced. I felt like a crumb of small-calm-unseen on the most chaotic set. My things and I were hurried to my chariot and we were off amongst the rickshaws, old vehicles (looking of the 50s), and the delivery trucks littered with color and words. There were even motorbikes with wannabe Baliwood stars and old skinny men in torn britches, pedaling by.
After 30 minutes or so of what appeared to be a major highway, we made it in to Connaught Place. This is when the images of faraway lands were finally in my up close view. The lanes of the road were narrow and rounding. We passed gaunt men on blankets, selling whatever goods they had. We passed cows slummin’ the scene and even a calf cleaning itself atop an old car. Thank god cows are sacred in this land, for they offer the most delicate blend of various fragrances to this city. The alleyways were topped off with a clutter of eroded concrete structures open to the elements as well as the tenants. There was an occasional lamp but mostly gray darkness and grimy concrete. When we stepped out of the car, I noticed a man with a tin bowl, washing it in a corner of the street. A couple of young gentlemen flashed me a smile and an old woman crept by in a hunched posture.
I made it in to the hostel. The accommodations are quiet exceptional considering the humble living arrangements of the rest of this society. After all, I am not on a street trying to sleep.
My eyes are opened wide to this experience thus far. Not any advice or story could have prepared me for the grotesque AWE full nature of this planet, called New Delhi.
Well, I suppose I will have my meditation now and lie down for some possible shut eye. I am waiting for the morning, when I will be able to find drinkable water.
Till next time…
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