June 29th, 2009

On Thursday I was told I would be having Andrew (the diplomat)'s home to myself, but with no internet (or laptop since he took the only adapter) and maybe 3-4 movies that I have no interest in to watch. So along came Friday, and we end work at 1 and I was dreading sitting in the apartment alone with nothing to do my first free weekend in India. In what has been described as a courageous move by the diplomats around the water cooler, I got a hold of the Embassy's doctor's phone number. I had heard she had a daughter and there's very little people here my age so I thought it would be worth asking her what there was to do around Delhi.

I called the doctor, and she told me she and her daughter, Chloe, the girl I was to volunteer with on Sunday, were getting their nails done at a five star hotel half an hour away. I was invited to go shopping with them, but they'd understand if pedicures and silverware weren't my thing. I was about to kindly decline when I remembered how I was doomed to watch How Harry Met Sally at Andrew's if I did nothing, so I agreed to take a Tuktuk and meet them at the Hotel.

I strolled into the 5-star hotel, and quickly put on my "I belong here, Im rich" face and curtly declined the complementary head massage for those who appeared to be the son of a wealthy customer. Wearing a suit after work didn't hurt that. When they were done we went jewellery shopping, which is when my mind was promptly blown. I put on the rich face again and hmmmm'd as I walked along the displays of jewellery I had no business considering buying or trying on.

After shopping we went out for authentic Indian. It was apparently upscale, and the inside was a lot nicer than the outside.. but it was still Indian upscale which isn't necessarily great for us Canadians. We ordered things I can't remember how to pronounce and they all laughed at the inevitable Delhi Belly that I was to encounter when I took a dare and ate something 'hot' (hot forIndians) and they were right. I had bad cramps and etc.

I got a ride home, and Chloe and I went to Old Delhi in the morning. We went to India's oldest mosque after walking through the market. It is then that I realized I am a freak here. Big, tall white guy walking with big, tall white girl meant way too much attention for my comfort. We were swarmed if we stopped for more than 5 seconds, and every single person who noticed us stared and spoke in Hindi or extended their hand to be shook. They probably thought it was Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie looking to adopt one of their kids. The mosque was immense. I was put in a gown to cover up my exposed shins and we passed by lepers begging at the gates. Luckily I was wearing sunglasses, eye contact is apparently an invitation for conversation (not that they were looking for an invitation).

We climbed up thetower and our 'tour guide', who was basically a guy who yelled at us what we could see with our own eyes, described the view. He demanded a tip and we tosseed him 40 roupees, and he asked for more. The Canadian in me thought I had done something wrong, but Chloe is a little more integrated and she just kept walking, which is the best strategy.We then took a rickshaw to Karim's, a restaurant known to foreigners since it's in LonelyPlanet books. We ordered butter chicken, Tandouri chicken, rice, Daal, and water. I took pictures of our food and from the rickshaw, so instead of describing it I will attach photos when I have internet at Andrew's tomorrow night.

We got back to the compound after that and I was dropped off at Andrew'shouse. On Sunday, a diplomat, Chloe and I went to Old Delhi again to spend 3 hours at the Kilkari Rainbow all-girls home. When we got to the gates, one of them saw us and screamed something in Hindi. Then out of nowhere 35 Indian girls, aged 3-9 ran straight for us. It was like running with the bulls mixed with Christmas morning excitement, I said holy shit and luckily they don'tunderstand English, I wouldn't want them to have known what was going through my mind. After the initial mobbing, we went into a room and played. The level of energy and enthusiasm stayed the same for about 2 hours, and within an hour I was completely covered with sweat and exhausted.

My first and biggest mistake was giving a piggyback ride. They speak no English and are used to living on thes treet, so they are very grabby, pushing and well.. they slap each other in the face. All of a sudden 35 little kids wanted a piggy back ride at once and theconcept of a line was impossible. By the third kid, who didn't want to let go and was choking me, I was breathing hard. I had 3-4 kids on me at a time. So, I started just grabbing their arms and throwing them up in the air, they liked that too.To give an idea of what it's like, they live in one room with sewage flowingj ust outside of it. Kids play in the old fireplace in the back of the room,wearing just a cloth. Their prized possessions are rocks they find outside. One adorable girl gave me her rock and ran away shyly. It was so draining, but with monkeys swinging around outside, kids playing in sewage,no possessions and most of them suffering from heat rash, who am I to complain? It was an amazing experience and I am going back again in two weeks, I'll bring my camera to take pictures.

I got dropped off at home after that and fell asleep as soon I laid down. I slept from 8-730 the next morning without interruption. Now I'm at work, I just had a business lunch with Julia and another person in Public Affairs. I talked to Heather about suggestions of where I should go, and she told me I absolutely have to go to Katmandu, the capital of Nepal. I would need a visa and to fly there, butapparently the scenery, the day-trip mountain treks and the tranquility are very much worth it. I really want to go and I'll keep everyone posted on the process. Yesterday it rained for the first time and it poured. I thought, finally, the monsoon season is here, it will cool things down. Apparently it was pre-monsoon rain. So, it looks like I'll be getting wet.
Well, this has been quite a long e-mail. I've done a lot since my last one, and hopefully I provided enough details. I'm resourceful when it comes to food and eat and take home food from the Embassy when I can. I'm also a good haggler, I pride myself on cheaping down 50 Canadian cents from a TukTuk driver (crazy little open taxi) and being able to walk away when they demand more (this is what we have to do, or they'll ask for 500% more than what they ask from locals). I asked the maid to cook me dinner for tonight, hopefully it takes pity on my intestines, you truly need an iron stomach to handle Indian food.