Delhi

I realize that I must have sounded extremely dire in the last posting. But how quickly things change. Saying goodbye to Eva was so emotional. We both cried. It was just so damn touching.! I know I’ll see her again, but God knows when and where. It’s crazy how quickly attached I become. It’s just so hard to let go of the good people. I love that traveling brings people close together so quickly. The friendships that form are beautiful. I switched guesthouses to one nearby where Dikla was staying called Shiva Ganga Lodge. I wished I had stayed there from the beginning of my time in Varanasi. It has just a relaxed and peaceful vibe. It’s run by an Indian family, has a beautiful coutyard of tropical plants and flowers, and is next to an ashram that overlooks the Ganges. The other people staying there were from all over – Thailand, Nicaragua, UK, Germany, Israel, the US, and they were all chill. I only stayed a day and a half more after Eva left. I would have stayed longer at the new place, but I already bought my ticket to Delhi.

Indian train rides are an experience all their own. This one was only my second time traveling on a train. Luckily, I got placed in a section with other tourists – a young, chain-smoking, infatuated French couple, a lesbian Korean couple, and a middle-aged Italian man who couldn’t wait to leave India. It was a good mix.

Indian men are all about staring. Six Indian men squished into a space that only fits two people comfortably, to stare at us. It doesn’t matter what we do, and it doesn’t matter what we say, they stare and stare and stare and don’t see that there is anything awkward, annoying, or creepy about it.

The train got in late and after haggling with and getting hassled by rickshaw drivers, and escaping some crazy Indian woman trying to scam me, I found the pre-paid taxi booth and got a legitimate rickshaw to drive me. Especially around tourists hubs, like railway stations, rickshaw and taxi drivers will offer to take you for a fair or cheap price if you just ‘stop and take a look’ at a couple of shops. You end up getting taken to places where either you’re in the middle of nowhere, the stuff is crap, or you get interrogated to buy overpriced crap, or they keep taking you to shops until you do buy something before dropping you where you needed to go in the first place. It’s a big headache dealing with those kind of people. That’s the part of traveling I hate. All the haggling sucks me dry and turns me into the bitch demon I never knew existed within. I don’t like that. But these parts of India bring it out in a person.

While I’m in Delhi, I’m staying with my friend Bryce, a Fulbright alum. It was heaven getting to his apartment. It’s like home!! It has A/C, Internet, premium cable, a kitchen, a clean shower and toilet, and an extra mattress! And his roommate Nandani is the most hilariously, sarcastic down to earth Indian woman I’ve met yet. She’s a black sheep in this society. She’s successful, independent, living on her own and not looking to get married any time soon. To us that’s normal. Here, it’s blasphemy. She’s only 26 and already the senior art director of a big Mumbai-based production design house. After decompressing from the train, I chilled out with her in front of the TV. A perfectly pleasant way to spend any hot, lazy Sunday afternoon.

I walked around in the late afternoon. I finally got my hair cut after like 5 or 6 months of not cutting it, and my legs waxed, after 3 months of not shaving. I feel like a new person. Since I’m in a residential place and around locals, I realized I’ve been so removed from regular life where people where regular clothes, and have clean shoes, and carry normal bags. It’s nice to be back, if only for a few days.