Culture Shock

Sunday, June 4 - New Delhi

Entering a haze of pollution and dust, our plane landed in New Delhi around noon. Walking out of the air conditioned airport and into the extreme heat of the city, we followed our prepaid taxi driver to his car. As he drove us to our hotel, we were both mesmerized by the driving culture.  It's almost as if they drive the same way you would walk through a crowd. Although lines are painted on the street, people, cars, trucks, tuk tuks, and motorcycles weave in and out of each other. Just as you would say excuse me if you want to pass someone or let them know you are coming up beside them, cars will honk to announce their presence. The honking is incessant. 

As chaotic as it is, there is a natural rhythm to it all. The drivers are so calm and used to their own way of driving that I was never nervous—mostly just amazed that cars weren't running into each other. 

After two days of traveling, it was nice to check in to our beautiful, comfortable hotel. 

But there was exploring to be done, so despite being tired, we changed and went back out. Walt discovered that New Delhi has uber, so using the wifi and having a hotel attendant call the driver to tell him how to get to us, we walked back out into the blazing heat.

W: I know I said I'd never use uber again. But that was before I had no choice. The heat will do funny things to a man. Literally, I put my shorts on backward and am just now noticing. The hotel staff doesn't like that I'm trying to right this wrong in the lobby. They should try being in this heat!

We had opted for uber pool so we joined an additional passenger on our ride. The other passenger was an 18 year old boy who at first just listened to his music but then started to talk to Walt (who had, of course, been dying to talk to him and ask him questions). After dropping him off, our driver took us to our destination, the Red Fort. Did I mention it was hot outside? A high of 115 according to my weather app. We knew it was going to be hot and had prepared mentally and clothes-wise. Our only mistake was not bringing enough water. But more on that later.

 W: Do you remember how when you were a kid and your siblings would put your coat and mittens on you and then stuff you into the dryer and turn it on until you passed out and stopped crying? That's what it feels like here. Except your mother isn't here laughing at how creative your siblings are. 

The fort was impressive and interesting to see, but it didn't have my full attention. I was distracted by the people and the culture that is so different from ours. I was also trying to stay on guard against pickpockets (my backpack is quite valuable at the moment) or scammers (a few people even warned us to be careful as we were entering).

Another distraction came when people would ask to take pictures or selfies with us. It happened more times than I can count. People would ask and sometimes we accepted but other times we said no (otherwise that's all we would have been doing). Sometimes, a parent would just bring their child up to us and take the picture. At one point, we were sitting in the shade listening to the audio tour and a family came up and had their children sit on either side of us for a picture. It felt very weird to have so many people want to take pictures with us. I read that it happens a lot, but it still felt weird to be so "popular", but for no other reason than that we are different. 

To enter the fort, we were split up at security. There was a female line and a male line where we were patted down before entering. I have noticed that all the security lines we've been through so far have followed this format.

 As I mentioned, Walt and I listened to an audio tour as we walked around the fort. It was interesting to hear but as I also mentioned, I was a bit distracted. However, what I can remember is that a few "kings" (sultans?) would stay here. It included a market, a military, places to worship, some pools where occasional shows would entertain the royalty. One building held the Peacock Throne where the ruler would judge people. Later, the British used it for their military and damaged some of the buildings. They also used to be elegant and ornate with gold, silver, and chandeliers. But these have since been taken elsewhere or looted.

W: Very hot. Need medical attention. 

After the tour, we were both hot, tired, and thirsty and decided to take the metro back to our hotel. To get to the metro station from the fort, we had to cross a street and then walk through a market. Each an adventure on its own. 

The boulevard was a symphony of high pitched honks, Hindi yelling, brakes squealing, motors spitting to a stop and start. It was all arms and legs, waving, walking, weaving, dangling—all conducting the sounds of the street. People crossed to the beat of the street, in fits and starts, moving like a psychedelic Frogger game. To cross the busy street, we first waited to watch how others did it. There was no cross walk and cars don't just stop and waive you through. You had to be assertive yet cautious. I stayed very close to Walt as he expertly led us through. It was a dangerous dance, exotic in its rhythm, but everyone unsure of the steps and timing. 

Walking through the market was a workout for all five senses. 

Market doesn't do it justice. It was a circus. We performed the tightrope between the sidewalk and the street, each violent to the senses in its own right. Ringleaders formed at every vendor stall, each wanting center stage. Families piled in and out of cartoonishly small tuk tuks, dogs dipped and dived in and out of batting hands and car bumpers. Chopping and crunching, sizzling, and chewing—food exchanged hands, speaking as much as the people purchasing. The scent of dusty people, spices, food, and exhaust jockeyed for position, each shouting for space in my brain. Exhaust fumes shouted loudest and overpowered the rest. Walt loved it. I wasn't as much a fan.

Our sight was filled with vibrant colors and new foods and fruit. At one point, Walt excitedly yelled, "Strawberries!" Then immediately shook his head and said, "Nope. Not strawberries." I thought the same thing. We're still not sure what they are. (Since writing this, I have learned that they are called Lietche) 

W: Strawberries are different in India. The man selling them seemed confused when I tried explaining what a strawberry was. Not sure I could have explained the little red toy top fruit with blackheads and a green leaf hat any clearer. 

There were many times during the day when I felt like I had something in my eye. Later, I realized it was because of the dust and pollution in the air. You can also feel it when you breathe. It's not horrible, but I did notice it. 

Honking and people bartering or vying for our business made up the sounds. It was both exciting and annoying. As much as I wanted to take it all in, I was honestly just really thirsty and tired and wanted to be back at the hotel. 

After walking awhile, we knew we were close to the metro station, but there was no clear street to go down. We saw people exiting a narrow alley—from the street you couldn't see where it lead. We snaked through the alley, buzzing between the flies who congregated in the coolness of close quartered concrete walls. In the alley was a gate with a low door to step through with a sign nearby that said Metro. Through the gate and down another alley was the entrance to the train. I'm pretty sure I overpaid for the tickets (I had no idea how much it was supposed to cost) but not by much and I was just happy to be that much closer. 

The Metro station was clean and surprisingly cool. We opted not to take the first train that came because it was absolutely packed like a sardine can. We walked down a ways and entered the second train which only had a few people. 

Nine stops later, we reentered the heat and walked about 20-30 minutes to our hotel. I kept looking for a place to buy water. There were a few stands selling water, but I had read about a few brands being the safest to drink, and since I didn't see those (and didn't want to risk the potential consequences), I kept walking, knowing that we had a few in our hotel room. 

W: I know I told Jill I'd stop crying, but she's going to have to get over carrying me. It's too hot for me to walk in this heat. I'm not an idiot. 

Once back, we guzzled water, ordered up some more, and drank those too. I was so thankful for water! 

That evening, we took a swim, showered (it felt so nice to be clean!), and ate dinner at the hotel. We were so tired that we really didn't want to go anywhere else. For dinner, I ate a delicious soup of roasted corn, other veggies, and spices (I can't remember the specifics but it was delicious). Walt had a chicken dish with gravy—an Indian kind. Not the gravy you have in the states. An employee who we talked to earlier wanted us to "try" (and then be charged, of course. We figured we would be) a sampler of different street food. It was delicious as well. We did get a complimentary dessert of little orange sweet cake-like balls and a rice "pudding" (had a creamy taste) with pistachio. 

Satisfied and exhausted, we went straight to bed.