My India Trip 2006 (I)

Nov. 18, 2006. I barely made the flight, as usual. I sat beside a friendly Indian man, an Aries/Pisces family man (who called himself a sentimental fool) in love with his Sagittarius wife. After the 14-hour flight, my legs felt broken. It was hot when I arrived at the Delhi Airport. Outside the gate, many dozens name plaques were held by taxi drivers expecting their clients. I tried to read the names, when a man called me and winked. He didn’t have my name. Then I saw Qin wearing a white tee shirt. An Indian man in black uniform took over my cart. I asked Qin if he knew the man. He said yes, the man was the taxi driver. We went to the car and put my luggage inside. He drove a small Honda. Qin said it was equivalent to Civic. The driver spoke softly in fluent English. We left the airport. He ran a red light and I was flabbergasted. I was surprised by the dirt and squalor on the streets. The gorgeous pictures in my tour book gave me an illusion that India was a garden country. Silly me thought we would soon get on the highway and leave the slums behind. Cows wandered the streets, stray dogs and homeless people lived in dirt, men peed on the streets. Qin said a TV program criticized people who urinated on the streets. India was much poorer than the coastal China that I knew.

Marriott Hotel was incredibly luxurious compared to the squalor on the streets. I was abhorred. The breakfast buffet was a delicious feast, which I appreciated after the bad food on the plane.

We went sightseeing in Delhi. First we stopped by his office and met his colleagues (the service department). They were crammed in an apartment without AC. The work condition was hard, but the young men seemed optimistic. Delhi was full of gangly, bustling young men, while fewer women walked the streets. I looked out of the car window. A young man sat in an auto rickshaw rode away. He was slim, leggy and beautifully clean-cut. While our car waited at a red light, a handicapped boy thumped our window with his deformed arm. I froze, frightened out of my wits. Only after our car passed did I steal a glance at him. How this poor creature managed to grow up I didn’t know.

We saw the Indian Gate, Government Buildings, etc. All the fountains were dry, and people walked on the pool floor. Dust was everywhere. Women dug holes on the scraggly lawn in front of the Indian Gate. Teenage boys had their step training there. Chinese President Hu was visiting so parts of the city were closed. The driver took us shopping (The Silk Palace) and I bought two Indian suits under coercion: a sandy top for 1100 rupees, a blue and red woven suit for 2000 rupees, and a tan pashmina scarf for 500 rupees. They served us tea and the shopgirl kept saying how nice “Madam” looked. The driver told me to get sari but I wouldn’t bare my belly. Finally we went to see Qutb Minar (part of the Mehrauli Archaeological Park). The buildings/tower were majestic, and so was the landscaping. Such a waste it was built for dead people, worship, etc.

He took us to a nice place for lunch. Afterwards he showed us his office site and gave me a dozen flowers (mostly gladiolus and lilies). They were wilting but they were lovely. He also invited us to visit his house. I didn’t know if he was serious. The nicest area in Delhi seemed to be the Embassy Avenue. The lawn was well kept. Whenever our car stopped, beggars pounded our windows. Sometimes women held their children. Our driver ignored them, while I was nervous.

I bought a wooden elephant from the store downstairs. The water in the swimming pool was too cold, so the pool was mostly for show. We went outside after dark to a local mall/market, where I bought a cotton suit for 650 rupees. I was so tired I was barely able to make it back.