Will of Iron, Nerves of Steel

I have now been in India two weeks. The following blog was written a week ago. Much has happened since then. I was getting sick when I wrote this. My health and spirits are much better now.

I have been here a week today. There have been great moments -- my first bite of idli, the South Indian steamed rice cake. I dipped the idli in the vegetable curry that comes with it and the moment it hit my mouth I had a great rush of energy and my body tingled all over. For a moment, I was perfectly happy. Then I had the luggage tangle, but the taste of idli helped kept me going. Also when I first hit the streets in the morning, I am happy. At the National Museum there is a Haruppan (Indian culture contemporary with Mesopotamia) dancing girl that is amazing. The tiny school children in their blue uniforms. They are so small. Yesterday, a guide at a stepwell broke off a branch of a neem tree for me. Villages use small neem branches to brush their teeth. I have always wanted to try it. And the stepwell, one hundred steps going down, down down between the arched sidewalls. An amazing visual. Pictures eventually. Oh, and Monday night I went to a great two-part concert, sitar in the first half and a vocalist in the second. The vocalist had an amazing voice, very open, resonant, deep.

Unfortunately Monday was not great. I couldn't find a hotel to move to. I went to Old Delhi, the Tibetan Colony, a couple of other places and finally, bit the bullet and started going from hotel to hotel in Connaught Place. I found one that turned out to be very good. At first I thought it was outside my budget, but I worked it out. It's o.k. And they are very helpful. They helped me get a Indian Chip in my cell phone. I couldn't have done it alone. It took three trips, two of which someone at the hotel did for me. That Monday, I also had an unfortunate encounter with a young man who wanted me to buy him a shoe shine box. It's a long complicated story involving a shoe shine by someone else (a magnificent job -- he redyed my shoes which needed it mixing colors to match the shoes), and inserts which the boy slipped in. I paid for the shoe shine but thought about the insoles which the boy called covers. I didn't know what he was talking about and just wanted to give him 20 rupees to get rid of him. The shoe shine guy wanted to take out the insoles and give them back to the boy, but in my panic I thought he was going to hold my shoes for ransom. The boy finally accepted the 20 rupees, but I might have ripped him off. How much are insoles in India.

I don't tell these stories to put India down. They really are a sign of my own ignorance and part of the process of arriving in India. I'm much better about recognizing scams in the making. I don't talk to anyone who calls me "father" or "uncle" for example. I keep a smile on my face.

Tuesday, was a recuperation day. I ate and slept. Shortly a general food article will be coming up. I'm going to spare you a meal by meal account, except last night I discovered this great, cheap fast food place called Khana where for less than $2.00 you get an endless South India thali that is quite good.

Wednesday, I finally started to see Delhi. I went to the National Museum and saw the dancing girl and got a refresher course in Indian art and history. Then I walked home -- not far -- by way of the step well.

Walking in New Delhi is not a good idea. It's o.k. in the older parts of town. The streets are narrow and crowded and the cars can't work up much speed. But walking across several lanes of traffic that are going at a rapid clip and constantly changing lanes is hard work. When there are traffic lights, they help some, but motorcycles don't think traffic lights apply to them and people stop late and start early so even at traffic lights you have to keep your wits about you. And where there are no traffic lights, I wait for a reasonable break and head across the street. You have to have a path and stick to it. The drivers see you and factor you into their complex calculations. If you falter, make a sudden change or stop, the whole system breaks down. No matter how close the vehicles are coming to you, you have to keep going, exercising you nerves of steel and will of iron. Drivers operate on very small margins here and the cars come very close, but, my mantra is, "They don't want to hit me. They see you. Keep going. Keep going." And so far, I end up on the other side of the street.

I now know that even for small distances, auto rickshaws are often a necessity and I have made my peace with them. I pay more than the locals but I get where I want to go.

Then I got sick. I had four days when I didn't leave my hotel room. A doctor came and visited my twice for a total of less than $20.00. The high, persistent fever was the worst, but analgesics made it bearable. Fortunately, my cell phone was working and I was in touch with friends back home. Now things are picking up. I have had a good couple of days. No calamities. I am settling down.

I like it here. Delhi in the winter is wonderful. Except for the smog, the weather is excellent. There is always something happening and there are other tourists like me wandering around and we help each other out from time to time. And Indians help me out. Last night a guy helped me get an autorickshaw to a concert and back.I have a lot more to tell. Good stories. I got to hear William Dalrymple speak, for example. More on that later. It's lunch time. I'm going to try Cafe 101 where yesterday, I had a wonderful minestrone soup.