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| During our 6-hour layover... |
Earlier in the day we had found this awesome omelet maker on the street in the center of the tourist beat area of Old Delhi and I knew that's where I'd be headed. Trevor is really good at researching things in the Lonely Planet guidebook so we knew most of the nicer restaurants around to set up camp for a while. We try to skip the ones titled "Food Plaza" or anything of that sort. That doesn't even sound appetizing. I think the place we finally landed at had a rooftop restaurant. Oh wait, every restaurant is a rooftop restaurant in Old Delhi, only a few aren't, and they all have the same menu. With two big pots of tea we were ready to wait out the duration.
I was the only one craving omelets so l went out solo to find this omelet making wizard in the center street area. Dodging vegetable piles and fruit carts while rickshaws and motorcycles were dodging me I forgot about the bitter cold for a brief moment. Crossing the street in India is an adventure in itself. There was this one time in Bangalore where it felt like we were actually in a real life game of Frogger. Anyways, where wer- oh yes, omelets. I could only see part of the omelet stand around the giant rock pile that blocked my view. What is a giant rock pile doing in the middle of the city? I don't know, ask the thousands of people that walk by it every day and don't even give it a thought. Such is India.
Arrival accomplished. The egg-crafty guru whipped out an enticing omelet display that included fresh vegetables and the latest combo of hot sauce madness. I thought that after three months here I had gotten used to spicy Indian food, until I realized my mouth was on fire. The kids around laughed as I choked down the omelet inferno. "Maybe a little less green sauce on the next one," I muttered to the omelet maker while next to him a scrawny and ragged man (his business partner maybe?) smiled back at me through a twisted collection of yellow and brown ivory chomps. I noticed the omelet maker was laughing too. He must've seen the incessant mouth fanning and look of horror on my face as my eyes desperately scanned the area for the nearest bottle of Aqua Fine - India's knock off version of Aquafina. "No I'm not crying." A few minutes after being an H2O vacuum, I was myself again.
The city was starting to slow down and most of the shop owners had packed up for the night. We were halfway through our layover! It's amazing how a city with so many millions of people can shut down so quickly. I don't blame them for closing early though because it got uncomfortably cold, even with a coat. Seeking warmth I drifted over to a fire that three guys were building out of some random things like plastic trash, clothes, and cardboard – probably toxic. Getting into a good conversation with people in India is always a struggle, but always worth a try. It's not often you'll find the good English-speaking ones. I tested out some Hindi phrases I'd learned on a train as the three of them smiled happily in approval. We casually exchanged some choppy English dialogue and went through the list of routine questions. "Where are you from?" "How long you stay?" "What is your name?" Done. Usually these questions go in that specific order. Immediately after interrogation, we chose the privilege of silence.
A break from the surrounding chaos and warmth from the makeshift fire lured me into a dreamy state. I joined the small circle on the gritty pavement as we sat in peace. We were an untouchable community of unfamiliar brothers, glowing on the inside and tired on the out, as thoughts of the day paraded through our minds. It was unusually surreal. Fifteen minutes felt like half an hour and those minutes have become cherished memories. Following this unexpected fellowship I had to depart. Saying a quick goodbye, I left the scene with not a care in the world, and it was at this simple moment while walking back to the rooftop restaurant I realized that things never ever EVER go as expected in this country. I should've known. I already knew. This was an interesting realization. It was like one of those lessons you already know, but you still have to learn. The fact that Indian schedules are all screwy and hardly anything goes the ‘right’ way, made me think.
Thinking is a good thing, but if you think too much you'll go crazy. Sometimes crazy can be a good thing, but then people will avoid you. But sometimes being avoided can be a good thing - it gives you time to think! :)
Even before deciding to come to India in September, we discussed the prospect of a month long tour of India. Of course this was a fantastic idea because no one knows if we'll be able to come back to this country ever again. As we moved closer and closer to Christmas break this talk became a reality and before we knew we were finally in the middle of it. None of us knew traveling in India would be so difficult. The time it would take anyone to drive 60 km takes Indian drivers four times as long. This can be attributed to the fact that every meteor shower seems to hit Indian roads and Indian roads only, causing potholes and other miscellaneous decay. Of course that's a drastic exaggeration, but it's an accurate description. It's one of the many examples of things going awry and people being okay with it. They live with it, and get along just fine.
All this difficult travel, nine-hour periods of "time pass," people ripping us off because we're white, and many other unexplained phenomena told me that even though sometimes life is C-R-AZY, everything is going to be okay. I'm still breathing, I'm still seeing, I'm still loving, I'm okay, and I'll still have a place to rest my head at night. I should let it go.
Seeing happy people with no material wealth whatsoever put something in my heart that I can never forget no matter how deep I dive into American Culture. The more I care about what's going on in my life, the less I care about theirs. There's a saying I tell my students in class, it goes, "You can't listen and talk at the same time." It works to keep them quiet for a while but then they start talking again. In my life I need to do more listening and less talking, for if I never listen I'll never learn! And in India, when my voice goes unheard and lost in the noise or drowned in the silence, I get to listen. I get to let go. It's fantastic.
Leaving New Delhi, India's bright and shining capital city, I felt at peace within the chaos. We were all ready to move on to our next stop. Goa, Mumbai, Jaipur, and Agra were all memories while our eyes looked forward to Nepal and Darjeeling - the last few stops of this 28-day backpacking adventure around the country. This night was December 21st, just a few days before Christmas but also the night before Evan's birthday. We all felt pretty bad that his birthday would be spent under the fluorescent lights of our Sleeper Class train car but at least he could purchase 5-rupee chai at his bidding desire. We try to think positively as best we can and by doing this we can make the best of things. "Brooke a mouse just ran over your shoe!" Sweet.
Making the best of things…
- S.
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| Night Market in Old Delhi |
Eloquently spoken :)
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