Delhi Day One

 The hotel’s breakfast is lovely. Mostly because they have good tea. In Uzbekistan tea was plentiful and tasted more or less like water, you can imagine I’ve been excited to be in a country of chai walla.

I made my way through the crowds to the metro station. I’m starting to see some order in the chaos here. This county drives on the left and stands on the left. I think this may be the main point of confusion with Americans trying to walk around here. In fact, I’m finding that people in Delhi have more consistent walking habits than people in central London. The rules are simple. Walk left, pass right, never stop moving. These rules also apply to traffic on the road. It looks chaotic but there is a water like flow to it. You’ll notice quickly that the traffic is thick but never actually at a standstill, there is no gridlock. People take but they also give. The honking was an adjustment too. In the US a honk means something like “what the fuck are you doing?” Out here it’s a quick “pardon me” as the lorries, cars, ottos, motorcycles, and bicycles give and take their way from point a to point b.

The metro is another story. There is a sense of order here that you don’t get on the street. To enter you walk through a metal detector and have your bags x rayed. People behave in the system to a much higher level than they do on the street. The metro is clean and will gleefully fine you for spitting. Service is fast, frequent, and people do not lollygag on the way to their trains. Stand in the doors when they open and you’ll be shoved out of the way. Think that’s rude? Don’t stand in front of the doors. The first car in a train is reserved for ladies only. This is a good thing but a symptom of some pretty severe gendered violence issues that are pervasive in Indian society. You’ll notice pretty quickly that even in broad daylight, it’s not so common to see women walking around alone. 

I took the train to Khan Market in search of a new book. On my flight over I finished a collection of short stories by Dean Koontz, a compilation of odds and ends his publishers wouldn’t let him put out until he got famous. They’re… okay. VS directed me to an old shop in the area which had stacks to the cieling. Books in English, books in Hindi, books on India in English. Cool stuff. I left with a copy of Nudge, I haven’t had any nonfiction for a while. Lunch came from a restaurant in the same area which looked like a 50s diner had been recreated by aliens after being described in brief snippets. The food was fantastic. 

Khaaaaaaan Market

Here I took my first Otto ride. India’s auto rickshaws are ubiquitous and in many situations are the best way to get around the city. The small size enables them to slip through traffic. Though larger than motorcycles, they afford you a roof and backrest. Out here you can order either mode through Uber. I’ll have to work up the courage for a moto later. Payments here are interesting. India had a system called UPI which enables easy fee-free cashlike digital payments. Think the ubiquity of cash, the bank relations of Zelle, and the convenience of Venmo. People here don’t carry cash like they used to because UPI is dominating the payments scene locally. My Otto walla doesn’t take payment though uber and I fish out some rupees for him. He short changes me and I accept his fee so I don’t have to reconcile down to the last paisa. I hate dealing with small bills. 20 rupees is about 20 cents. If he wants to keep a few of my dimes he can have them.

A calm Delhi traffic scene

My next stop is Piano Man, a jazz bar nearby. I sit down and the performer takes the stage for a lunchtime show. Gus and I get to know each other well since we’re the only two people there. He plays guitar well and manages to sing well in spite of the AQI. That was impressive to me.

I wake up from my afternoon nap and Asalya has finished scanning the roll I shot in Tashkent. I flip through the link and see that only about a third of the shots exposed properly. This camera has an unruly shutter that seems to do as it pleases so I won’t be running more film through it until I service the thing. A few shots did come out okay…

Volga

Amir Timur Statue

A fool

City Park

Alisher Navoi Metro

Chorsu Bozor

Produce in Chorsu

Leaving Chorsu

Planetarium Security

The fact that these came out at all in spite of the camera’s state of repair is very encouraging. I’m excited to get it up to snuff back home.

After reviewing the roll and laughing it was time for dinner. I was off to a kebab place VS recommended. Rajinder da Dhaba started off as one window but now occupies a chaotic maze of shops in a shopping center. I walked up to a cash counter and ordered spiced mutton and some mutton shish. They handed me a piece of paper and directed me to a pickup line at the other side of the mall. I handed the slip to a man who took it and shouted something in Hindi to a mess of people packing meat behind him. In a minute or two, he handed me a bag. I took it to a spot on a wall where I could stand and enjoy my bounty in peace. Wow. Wow wow. The meat was just perfect. Fresh, well spiced, and falling off the bone. My only complaint is that they accidentally gave me a third portion and I was too full to try something else. Boo hoo. It was here I noticed something peculiar, how strong crowd anonymity is here. I’ve grown accustomed to being constantly identified as a traveler and asked who I am and why I’ve come to a place. Typically I’m the palest face on the block. Everyone here speaks English and I’m enjoying my meal in peace. It’s a welcome change to not be a celebrity.

To wash it all down I took an otto to sidecar, a cocktail recommendation VS made for me. This bar is fantastic and after a series of Muslim countries, it is nice to be in a spot with a stronger cocktail scene. I ordered a white lady, the foam is perfect and the domestic gin is filling out the drink nicely. To my right something unusual happens, a man asks me where I’m from. After finding out I’m an American tourist he introduces me to the two other friends he’s drinking with. We get along alright and they invite me back to their place for billiards and another drink. Back in Green Park, I’m shooting pool with three strangers and having a lovely time. When I’ve tired and need to sleep. They offer to put me up for the night and are saddened that I’m on my way out. Tomorrow perhaps, we’ll meet again.