Arrival In Dehli

The travel books say that Delhi is a city where the past and present intertwine.  Sometimes it feels more like they are butting heads.  The relatively modern airport is adjacent to the close quartered squalor, that inundates most of this dillapitating city.  Dust, trash, and dung waft through the air as freely as the incense and chai tea, which is just strong enough to mask the former (most of the time).  Of course the scent of countless street food vendors also do a good job of making my morning walk bearable.  My ride from the airport to the hotel, in a auto-rickshaw or tuk tuk, made is abundantly clear that the old and new like to brawl on the streets.  Huge horned cow (or yak not really sure haha) and bicyclists swerve past the endless auto's and motorbikes.  Baboons and little children squat next to each other and go to the bathroom right on the street.  In fact, our auto-rickshaw driver had to stop and take a leak.  The ride ended when we reached our destination of Manju Ka Tilla.  

This is a close quartered Tibetan neighborhood that houses many refugees from the former Buddhist state.  The streets are plastered with signs exposing the "red-handed butchers" of the Chinese communist regime.  Alongside that are signs of upcoming Tibetan music performances and various advertisements.  A little lower numerous vendors sell Buddhist trinkets, prayer beads, bells, tea-cups, clothing, books, incense, and jewlery.  Many of the items are beautiful and at night you can hear the cling and clang of young men hammering intricate designs into soft metal.  

This area seems like a relatively popular tourist spot, which means there are a few white people besides me and Uncle Alan.  In fact, we meet a man from Australia who got to perform classical guitar for the His Holiness the Dali Lama.  Apparently His Holiness has returned home after a long tour and is giving teachings.  We are not planning on leaving because the trip up there would be long, costly, and we have no hotel.  (Although not out of the question). 

The streets are vibrant both day and night and as the sun rises so does the steam coming off the warm Tibetan Chapati.  These look and sort of taste like large rustic english muffins.  I washed it down with a hot cup of sweet chai tea that was poured from a huge thermos.  The old Tibetan man was constantly brewing and refilling his thermos with milk from a stainless steel pot carried to him by a young boy.  You can see these boys running to and fro all around Delhi.

We spent our first day in Delhi running around looking for a store that could service Uncle Alan's lap-top.  We also tried to find a whole-sale market that had cheap green corduroy.  The streets of Delhi are filthy.  Usually we take a bicycle rickshaw from the metro to the hotel.  It is operated by young men no older than 17 and old men no younger than 60.  The common attributes seem to be a weight that doesn't exceed 110 pounds and a mouth with bad teeth.  I have no idea how they are able to lug us around on the poor rocky streets of Delhi but they manage.   It is especially impressive watching them dodge huge trucks while taking us on the wrong side of traffic (to get us close to our hotel).  To hammer home the point about the dichotomy of new and old Delhi, the subway system is impeccable.  I did not see one piece of trash throughout my many trips on the rail.  Speaking of the rail Indians do not value personal space.  If you are waiting in a cue they are perfectly content standing so close you can feel their breath on the back of your neck.  At some of the busy stops you end up getting jammed in the rail car and hanging on for dear life as the crowd surges.  

OK I am tired I guess this isn't bad for a first entry.  Write to me on facebook if you wanna know anything in more detail or if you just wanna say hello!!