Alive and Well

Alexander and I arrived in Delhi on a Tuesday, in the wee morning hours of the 28th. The flight to India was relatively uneventful. I slept nearly the entire time, excluding a layover in Frankfurt to purchase Haribo gummy bears. When we touched ground after a total of fourteen hours in the air, nothing could stop me from smiling. We made it!!! After months of preparation, our unbounded imaginings are finally a reality…

We loaded our heavy luggage onto carts and rolled through customs, out the airport doors, into the thick, warm, night air. A man holding a sign with our names escorted us to a white van. We sped through the streets- past cows, stray dogs, abandoned storefronts and bustling shacks- narrowly avoiding accidents with the flighty green rickshaws, weaving motorcycles, and pungent garbage trucks. The taxi-wallah (taxi driver) deposited us at the Grand Sartaj, a mid-range hotel booked by Fulbright-affiliated travel agents. Our room had two double beds, windows looking out on a quiet side street and a shower that I would later reflect on as quite nice.

It was well past noon when we woke up the next day. Alexander called the front desk and ordered a taxi to take us around Delhi. Minutes later we were again whizzing through the streets, grabbling our seats and gasping every time a nearby vehicle got too close. The driver looked in his review mirror and laughed.

Our first stop was the result of a misunderstanding. Mistaking our request for a government affiliated emporium, the driver dropped us off at an upscale retail shop selling fine goods from Kashmir. The salesmen were insistent, nearly forcing us to admire expensive bedspreads, bolts of jewel-toned cloth and translucent pashminas. We narrowly escaped the pressures to buy! Fortunately, our driver was waiting for us when we exited and he agreed us to take us to the emporium in which Alexander was initially interested.

Again, the salesmen were overbearing, but they were not only interested in selling their goods. One man, who told us he was Muslim, briefly lectured me in the difference between a nation’s politics and people. “We hate American government,” he said, “But American people, we love. All governments are bad. India, China, America… but all people- they are good.” In the end I purchased a pashmina the color of copper.

The third and final stop of our day was the Red Fort (Lal Qila), a massive sandstone structure completed in 1648, at the height of Mughal power. Alexander and I aimlessly wandered inside the walls of the structure, taking pictures and trying to ignore the endless glances cast in our direction. The view was spectacular. Large green gardens extended between each interior structure, offering themselves to clusters of cross-legged men. Large black birds dotted the mauve sky, swooping between the government buildings beyond. The incessant honking and sounds of the city beyond the fort’s walls completed the scene.

As dusk began to fall over Delhi, the driver returned us to our hotel where we ordered dal (a lentil dish), chickpea curry and some unknown hours d’ourves drowned in yogurt.