The flight was nice...fourteen hours, but nice. The in-flight food was vegetarian and approximately Indian food. I made many friends on the flight and asked them questions. On my flight to Newark, a middle-aged family man who works for a bank company in Mexico. He tells me that India is fifty years behind the United States in terms of equal treatment of women, and he thinks women are too free in the United States. He looks at the divorce rates as Americans not looking at the consequences of their actions on the children and society. He believes that India cares more about money than education. He says that poverty is the excuse for the country not to invest in education. For this family man, India still thinks too much in the box. However, he wants his daughter to study what she wants.
While I had more conversations, they were small talk. After arriving at the Delhi Airport, I exchange my pocket money my father gave me for Indian currency. I will need more money later, but what I have is fine. The first thing that startles me is that the security have AK-47s. As you might guess, I am not a violence person, and people having big guns scare me.
I then look for Chandra Vikash or whoever he had sent to pick me up among the people with name cards. After awhile of not seeing anyone, I get desperate and start trying to find a phone I can use. My phone does not have a local sim, there are no payphones, and the locals either cannot understand me or are looking for customers, so I take the only choice left to me--the racist one. I find an equally lost and confused American looking for their person and ask for his phone. The one I find does not have a local phone either but soon we find his person who was to pick him up, and his guide has a phone he is willing to share.
After contacting Vikash and meeting the intern whose job is to pick me, I take the metro to Vaishali. I have to go through a series of bag checks, probably to restrict weapon transport in the city and trains. The black train tokens have a tower that reminds me of Pisa. There first train from the airport is not all that compact.
On the way to the second train, the intern and I meet up with the three other interns who will be accompanying me on this misadventure with Vikash this Summer. In the not so fresh air of Delhi, I see all sorts of poverty and scrambling on the streets. Trash rots on the sides of streets, and icky dark water taints our sandals. The second train is far more crowded. It is not Tokyo crowded but you will have to suck in your gut and get friendly.
My next encounter with the gross was a man's hand. While on the second train, a middle-aged man violently cleans his ear with his index finger. Then he pushes with the same my shoulder aside to talk to his companion. Next he cleans is nose with the same finger. THEN he push my shoulder with the same hand to talk to his companion again.
I tolerated it. At Vaishali, we walk to our near-bye place of stay called Shir Krishna Bhawan. It has temple, hence the name. After walking through the sewage to the building and climbing to the third floor (ground floor is 0), I unpack my stuff. Because the power is out and it is so hot, I sit on the balcony to cool off. Chandra VIkash comes by to say hello and then I go to bed.
While I had more conversations, they were small talk. After arriving at the Delhi Airport, I exchange my pocket money my father gave me for Indian currency. I will need more money later, but what I have is fine. The first thing that startles me is that the security have AK-47s. As you might guess, I am not a violence person, and people having big guns scare me.
I then look for Chandra Vikash or whoever he had sent to pick me up among the people with name cards. After awhile of not seeing anyone, I get desperate and start trying to find a phone I can use. My phone does not have a local sim, there are no payphones, and the locals either cannot understand me or are looking for customers, so I take the only choice left to me--the racist one. I find an equally lost and confused American looking for their person and ask for his phone. The one I find does not have a local phone either but soon we find his person who was to pick him up, and his guide has a phone he is willing to share.
After contacting Vikash and meeting the intern whose job is to pick me, I take the metro to Vaishali. I have to go through a series of bag checks, probably to restrict weapon transport in the city and trains. The black train tokens have a tower that reminds me of Pisa. There first train from the airport is not all that compact.
On the way to the second train, the intern and I meet up with the three other interns who will be accompanying me on this misadventure with Vikash this Summer. In the not so fresh air of Delhi, I see all sorts of poverty and scrambling on the streets. Trash rots on the sides of streets, and icky dark water taints our sandals. The second train is far more crowded. It is not Tokyo crowded but you will have to suck in your gut and get friendly.
My next encounter with the gross was a man's hand. While on the second train, a middle-aged man violently cleans his ear with his index finger. Then he pushes with the same my shoulder aside to talk to his companion. Next he cleans is nose with the same finger. THEN he push my shoulder with the same hand to talk to his companion again.
A picture of the metro station from our balcony as Shir Krishna Bhawan
I tolerated it. At Vaishali, we walk to our near-bye place of stay called Shir Krishna Bhawan. It has temple, hence the name. After walking through the sewage to the building and climbing to the third floor (ground floor is 0), I unpack my stuff. Because the power is out and it is so hot, I sit on the balcony to cool off. Chandra VIkash comes by to say hello and then I go to bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment