Jet lag sure has a hold on me here in India. I'm in bed by 10 pm and up by 4 am. I'm gonna have to start looking for early bird specials! Our morning breakfast consisted of an offering from an import/export friend of Chinky's. Nearing any Hindu holiday (in this case Diwali), it is custom to curry favor with the gods by sending offerings to, say, a hundred friends. Showing not only your generosity and fortune, but also your honor and respect of the gods. I am fortunate. Let me pay it forward to others, so that fortune shall continue to shine upon me.
Let's also discuss some of the preconceived notions of India. First, I was told that pretty much from the moment I stepped off the plane, the smells of Delhi would smack me in the face.
Maybe New York is dirtier than I have ever realized, but Delhi hasn't offended nearly as much as I expected. Then again, much like New York, I can only imagine what Delhi smells like in the summer, in 130 degree weather or more. Alas, it is winter. Only 90 degrees in the day and 70 at night. Women wear saris and punjabi dress in such beautiful colors with bindis on their foreheads. Some women wear full veils. Others are in jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts. Indeed, the full spectrum. Most do, however, cover their arms and legs, as is custom. It's interesting to note that you are welcome to expose a full belly in India, but nary a shoulder. A full belly indicates that you are rich enough to eat well, that, in a way, you enjoy some abundance in life, and don't skimp. While preparing for this trip, I packed no shorts or short skirts and worried about bringing leather goods. In a place where the cow is revered, will I offend if I'm wearing leather shoes? And my only good travel bag is leather. In the city at least, leather has yet to prove problematic, and is quite commonplace. Cities world-wide take all kinds.
On the other hand, three days in, plenty of things are a total shock. I have seen people of all sorts begging. Babies holding smaller starving babies. The maimed, the blind, all in need. Children selling useless balloons at major highway intersections, dirty, hair never having seen a comb, half-naked and barefoot. Along the highway, there will be a stretch of shops, furniture, bank, liquor store, and then a collapsed fifteen-story building. Pockets of huge single family homes flanked by business centers, and then three streets over slums.
In Chinky's neighborhood, there is an ironing lady on the corner. She loads charcoal into the iron and presses anyone in the neighborhood's clothes. Outdoors. I imagine that those who have live-in help, however, don't have to patron the ironing lady on the corner.And a man comes by on a bicycle rickshaw every morning to gather the trash for the neighborhood.
Pushpa, the live-in cook, resides in her own quarters upstairs on the roof/terrace. She has worked for Chinky for a year. There are two cleaning ladies for the house, and yesterday a repairman came to fix one of the geysers (pronounced geezer) which provides hot water in each of the five bathrooms. We have been encouraged to lock up important belongings, just in case. The floors in the house are all marble. Balconies extend off every room and screened-doors provide a great cross breeze. Each bedroom has a ceiling fan. Katie and I have our own room for now upstairs, and sleep on roll-out mats. We have our own bathroom and a sitting area.
There is a kitchen upstairs that we can use as well. The water in the house is all filtered. And for the majority, in-house meals are all vegetarian. I should also mention, this house is only a rental that Chinky has moved into while her home is undergoing major renovation. I feel so welcome here. So comfortable in a city where so many have warned me of its dangers. I don't know if it's because of my prior travels or the overwhelming generosity and care we've been shown that India has not yet been so shocking or unsettling. We, I suppose, shall see. And shout out to Chinky!
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