day one (part 2)

I feel like yesterday was really my first day, and it was surreal. So far it seems like India (or Delhi to be more specific) is going to be all about defying expectations. But, before I get there I should probably tell you how the rest of my trip went.

It was pretty uneventful, except that THE BEST THING EVER happened. Did you know that international airlines don’t charge a checked bag fee?!?!?! Yeah me neither. So I dropped Janet like a bad date, and me and my very relieved back went on our merry way. On the flight from Paris to Delhi I sat next to an Indian woman named Esther* who lives with her kids in Newcastle, England and is on her way to Punjab to visit her family. Esther was an awesome seat buddy, whenever the food came around she would wake me up, and whenever she needed something opened I was on hand to help her out. We swapped pictures (thanks dad for giving me those!!) and talked about our mutual love of Michael Jackson and his fancy footwork. A girl after my own heart.

Before I arrived I made sure that the hotel I booked had airport pick-up. This was really important because I was arriving at midnight and as much as I would like to consider myself the intrepid traveler, navigating a new city where I don’t know the language and everyone is looking to scam a tourist did not seem like a good idea. Although it took some patience (which was probably more from exhaustion than inner peace) and a little searching, after about an hour I found my driver Iran.* One of the first things that hit me upon leaving the airport was how much I felt like I was in Jamaica, or Miami. In a word it’s muggy, so far it’s no worse than Virginia in July, but coming from 40 degree weather it was a little shock to the system. The second thing that hit me was how crazy it is driving around here. Honestly I don’t know why there are even lines on the road. I didn’t see anyone drive within a lane for more than 30 seconds. Luckily Iran was a pretty cool customer so I felt safe (again that could have been the exhaustion) which was good because after 3 failed attempts to put on my seatbelt I remembered I was in India sooooooo probably not a big deal…. 

So 40 minutes and 20 rupees later I’m at the hotel sunrise and after reading mixed reviews I’m glad to find that it’s… perfectly adequate. To be honest if I was spending more than 30 bucks a night then it may have been a let down, but it’s got a bed a shower (kind of) and is exactly what I want to see at 1 am . 

Friday morning I wake up, and I realize I’m India. WHAT?!?!?! I don’t know anyone here, have no idea how I’m going to get around, and the guidebooks keep warning about Delhi Belly… what the heck have I gotten myself into?? After talking myself down from the ledge (or should I say perch… get it? get it?, I’m sooooo funny)I google aloo parantha decide it sounds amazing and tell myself that even if decide to stay inside all day it won’t be the worst thing ever. Then the aloo parantha arrives and it is amazing, so then I decide that I should give this whole solo travel thing a shot. But before that I need to tackle to the shower…

When I first arrived one of the first things I wanted to do was take a shower. I had been wearing the same thing for 3 days and the idea of getting clean seemed like a great idea. Then I saw my shower…it has 3 spouts….and a bucket…..and after a little searching, a drain. That’s when I decided I was really more tired then dirty, and I didn’t smell that bad (yeah I can convince myself of ANYTHING). But now I’m going to tackle Delhi and I want to be clean, gosh darn it. After a swift kick in the pants and a reminder that I’ve dealt  with faaaaaaaaar worse at summer camp I clean myself up and get ready to go. 

Being the good student that I am I draw myself a little map and memorize the metro stations so I can find my way to the city center. I don’t want to bring my guidebook because I’m trying really hard to not stand out like the super lost tourist that I am. Then I get outside and I realize I am a super lost tourist!! What was I thinking? My stoooopid map isn’t going to help me if there aren’t street signs!! I don’t know if I should go right left up down, what have I gotten myself intooooo??? AAAAAAA. Wait. Calm down. It’s ok, you can take a rickshaw. You won’t be considered a massive failure if you use the SAME MODE of transportation as everyone around you. Whew. That was close. So I ask Govinda the rickshaw-wallah how much a ride to the metro is and he says 20 rupees (that’s definitely the tourist price but seeing as how it’s about 50 cents, not a big deal) so I hope on and I’m on my way. When I get to the metro I tell Govinda I only have a 100 rupee note so I need change, and then homeboy tells me I’m good and don’t worry about it. WHAT?!?!? Do you mean to tell me in a city where tourist are getting scammed left and right I just got a free ride to the metro? Yeah, that just happened.

The metro is really easy to use (to be honest I had more trouble trying to navigate Chicago’s public transportation) and they have women only cabins so if you’re a solo female traveller this is definitely a safe option. I make it to Rajiv Chowk and now I feel like I’m really in India. I’m on the street for 5 minutes before some guy runs up to me asking me questions to see if he canhelp me find what I’m looking for, etc. So I know I’m very gullible, and trusting to a fault. Sometimes I feel like I have sucker written in all caps on my forehead, and this is just from being in the States so immediately my guard goes up, except that I meet this really nice kid Raj. And he tells me he want to practice his English. Yeah this kid is smooth. So I figure I’ve got all important things hidden under my clothes so what’s the worst that could happen from letting this kid show me around his stomping grounds. If you’re expecting to hear how I was taken to some den of despair and sold into the international human trafficking racket and what not, you guessed wrong. Raj showed me around the markets helped me find some authentic Punjabi clothes and that was it. In fact when I tried to give him a couple of rupees to show my thanks for his help he wouldn’t take it. Seriously?? What’s going on here? Then I’m on my way to the International Tourist Bureau to get my ticket to Jodhpur for Saturday night.

The train station is a massive complex that feels like a small city slightly under siege. Guards are at all entrances to check bags and passengers alike and once you’re inside it’s a mini (and mini in Delhi terms means roughly the same amount of people you would find in Times Square) metropolis of people getting to where they need to go, and selling things they think you need before you get there. After a lot of up/down round and round I finally find the ITB to get my ticket. While I’m there I meet a nice Bengali family with the cutest baby ever (yeah I’m a fan of hyperbole, so? This baby was really frickin cute!) and despite my mother’s warnings I got to hold the baby for a picture (sorry mom). I get my ticket and am on my way to find an internet cafe before I’m stopped by Shafiq who was at the ITB with me. 

Shafiq is a Pakistani sports reporter, in town for the International Cricket World Cup match. He took the picture of me with the Bengali family and has now become my new friend and tour guide for the rest of my time in Delhi. Shafiq lived in London for 6 years and during that time got hit pretty hard by the stock market crash so now he’s back home in Lahore working for the APP and trying to keep his blood sugar down. His doctor advised him to get out of the stock market, and surround himself by happy people, so apparently I am just what the doctor ordered. Literally. Shafiq is the best tour guide a girl could ask for. In fact maybe a little too good. After hearing some scary things about street food, I decide I better give my stomach a few days before I get too adventurous. There’s kind of a problem though in that Delhi street food looks AMAZING! It’s potatoes and cheese fried in battery goodness. Delhi Belly be damned I’m going for it. And chai tea. And fruit. And pretty much anything Shafiq throws at me. We get a ride to Jama Masjid mosque (Shafiq makes me stand by myself so he can negotiate a non-tourist price for the rickshaw) and then we’re on our way to Old Delhi. The main difference between Old Delhi and New is that Old Delhi is even more crowded. Yeah, more crowded. We get to the mosque in time for prayer and luckily we’re still allowed to walk around.

Jama masjid is the largest mosque in India and was one of the last architectural endeavors undertaken by Shah Jahan (same guy responsible for the Taj Mahal, yeah this guy thinks BIG). It’s right in the middle of Old Delhi, and I can’t help but compare it to cathedral’s in Italy. This is basically a hang out spot. You’ve got kids running around, older people sitting on the side shooting the breeze and in the middle men are washing themselves in preparation for midday prayers. Pretty cool.

After this Shafiq helps me find my way back to the hotel (thank goodness because there is noooo way I could have done that on my own) with the promise to meet up on Saturday for another day of sightseeing. So all in all, not a bad day in Delhi. 

*A note on names in this blog. I have no idea if I’m spelling them correctly so they will be completely phonetically based, and that of course will be influenced by how well I understand the person I’m speaking with.