India - This place isn't messing around. I walked out of the airport in New Delhi on Friday, and it was 111 degrees. At 8pm. India - 1, SJ - 0.
I have been spending most of my time with Yashas, my Nepali friend - he is the reason I came to South Asia in the first place.
Today was my first foray into the city on my own. As on the day I landed, it was baking hot. The sun was scorching, the air so dry it was turning my skin to cracked leather.
I hopped on a train to Old Delhi, and pulled my headphones on, trying to drown out SOME of the touts and honking horns and the clamor of the sea of people. I wandered along the fence of the Red Fort (more on this colossus later). A lady in a green sari to my right leaned forward delicately and threw up all over the sidewalk.
People were selling everything - combs, and brushes, ping pong paddles, ice cream, lime soda, a dizzying assortment of snacks and munchies. The most dogged touts were the rickshaw drivers. They'd pull up next to me and shout at me, though generally I didn't even notice because my music was playing so loudly.
But when they did force their way into my consciousness, I wasn't happy. One guy clapped at me and yelled at me while I was sitting in the shading reading my guide book. I looked up, almost seeing blood. "No! Beat it!," I all but screamed at him.
After an hour or so, I walked back to the Metro. If there is one thing to praise Delhi about, good god, it's the Metro. Quiet, smooth, reliable, air conditioned - ESPECIALLY AIR CONDITIONED - and ultra clean, it is a system that puts Boston and Philly's metro systems to shame. Even New York, although New York's coverage seems to be better.
And then back into the blast furnace. I was walking east and an auto-rickshaw driver scooted up next to me. "Going to the tombs? 20 rupees!," he barked.
It was a reasonable fare. More importantly, I wouldn't have to walk. I hopped in, and zipped off to the tomb of Humayun. It was the tomb of a 1500's Mughul emperor, a red and white sandstone and limestone affair topped with an onion hat like the Taj Mahal. The beautiful tomb is sited on a 12-acre plot of land studded with the graves of other, lesser nobles. I wandered through the site, trying to focus on the verdant landscaping, majestic structures, and quiet pockets tucked into the far corners of the garden.
But all I could think about was the heat and how long it had been since I'd had some water. Finally, I gave up and headed for the exit. It took another 45 minutes of walking before I got to a metro stop - nothing makes me more determined to do something than the unceasing badgering to do the opposite. (In this case, rickshaw rides).
And then the welcome chill of the metro, the walk to Yashas' apartment, and a lukewarm shower.
I have been spending most of my time with Yashas, my Nepali friend - he is the reason I came to South Asia in the first place.
Today was my first foray into the city on my own. As on the day I landed, it was baking hot. The sun was scorching, the air so dry it was turning my skin to cracked leather.
I hopped on a train to Old Delhi, and pulled my headphones on, trying to drown out SOME of the touts and honking horns and the clamor of the sea of people. I wandered along the fence of the Red Fort (more on this colossus later). A lady in a green sari to my right leaned forward delicately and threw up all over the sidewalk.
 |
| An exterior view of the Red Fort - it was closed. I'll try again tomorrow. |
People were selling everything - combs, and brushes, ping pong paddles, ice cream, lime soda, a dizzying assortment of snacks and munchies. The most dogged touts were the rickshaw drivers. They'd pull up next to me and shout at me, though generally I didn't even notice because my music was playing so loudly.
 |
| One of the beautiful doors I passed through at the tomb of Humayun. |
But when they did force their way into my consciousness, I wasn't happy. One guy clapped at me and yelled at me while I was sitting in the shading reading my guide book. I looked up, almost seeing blood. "No! Beat it!," I all but screamed at him.
After an hour or so, I walked back to the Metro. If there is one thing to praise Delhi about, good god, it's the Metro. Quiet, smooth, reliable, air conditioned - ESPECIALLY AIR CONDITIONED - and ultra clean, it is a system that puts Boston and Philly's metro systems to shame. Even New York, although New York's coverage seems to be better.
And then back into the blast furnace. I was walking east and an auto-rickshaw driver scooted up next to me. "Going to the tombs? 20 rupees!," he barked.
It was a reasonable fare. More importantly, I wouldn't have to walk. I hopped in, and zipped off to the tomb of Humayun. It was the tomb of a 1500's Mughul emperor, a red and white sandstone and limestone affair topped with an onion hat like the Taj Mahal. The beautiful tomb is sited on a 12-acre plot of land studded with the graves of other, lesser nobles. I wandered through the site, trying to focus on the verdant landscaping, majestic structures, and quiet pockets tucked into the far corners of the garden.
But all I could think about was the heat and how long it had been since I'd had some water. Finally, I gave up and headed for the exit. It took another 45 minutes of walking before I got to a metro stop - nothing makes me more determined to do something than the unceasing badgering to do the opposite. (In this case, rickshaw rides).
 |
| Another view of the main tomb. |
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| No idea what this was - they have amazing buildings in the middle of traffic circles! |
And then the welcome chill of the metro, the walk to Yashas' apartment, and a lukewarm shower.
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