Cows!

Even though you've been told there are "lots of wild cows" on the streets of Delhi, it's a little hard to appreciate the scale of it until you arrive. It'll still take me a bit to get used to. I think I only saw two cows in Kolkata, and that was on my crazy night cab ride through the Land of the Living Dead, where I really couldn't be sure what I was seeing. But I guess I'm getting ahead of myself here.

First, I think my fever finally broke last night. At least, my trusty digital thermometer read 98.6 for the first time in over a week. I'll give it a day before declaring complete victory over the bug, but my appetite and everything has improved considerably today (mmm... chocolate and banana crepe with a papaya lassi for breakfast). I think that was part of my problem in Kolkata - it was hard to even eat after braving the floodwaters, though they'd try to compensate with massive amounts of incense ("It smells like hippies!", as one of my tenants would say).

The ride to the airport was surprisingly smooth (the cab's engine was just barely hanging in there, giving us a top speed of maybe 35, and even the big trucks had to pass us - fine with me!). The view along the way was not smooth, now that I got to see it in daylight. It turns out I was staying in a pretty decent part of town, by comparison. That 30 minute drive through the absolute extremes of poverty and a few pockets of wealth would make a very disturbing documentary.

In one stretch, there were a number of fancy houses and apartments on the far side of a wide moat. It looked like they just had their servants haul their trash across the moat and dump it there, and rely on the swarms of human scavengers digging through it, in the midst of the monsoon. No real point in having garbage service when they'll do it for free, I guess. There was even a huge wild boar poking through it, sniffing for bits the humans might have missed.

The airport procedures here are all a little strange. Like most things here, lots more steps, much stamping of paperwork, but it all works. Even your carryon must have a special tag, and be stamped and verified to match both your ticket and passport (repeatedly).

I noticed one other westerner in line, and saw it looked like she had a US passport too. So I asked if she was heading to Delhi too. I got a nod, but then total silent treatment to any other attempts at fellow traveller small talk. This really surprised me. One of the few consistencies of foreign travel is that fellow travellers are always curious about where you're from, where you're headed next, where you've been recently, etc. This is both essential to survival (especially if they're coming from where you're heading), and needed to stay sane (if you can't talk to the locals). If you immediately despise the other person, it usually wraps up after the first few questions, but I've never gotten a response (or complete lack of one) like this. The only thing I could figure is it's her first trip abroad, and she's desperate not to be perceived as an American (I was a little like that too, my first trip). The blond hair and fancy pack will never give her away, but talking to another one would.

The plane turned out to be of quality Seattle construction, slightly younger than me (bought off a Latin American carrier, so everything was in Spanish). I'll take an old Boeing over a French plane anyday, but I'm biased. The flight is easy, after some expected turbulence fighting our way out of the monsoon. I can soon see a solid wall of white mountains to the north, going from horizon to horizon (even at over 30,000 feet). My first glimpse of the Himalayas.

The food was a little surprise too. Here you have to make a special request to get non-vegetarian food. I hadn't, but I'm never big on meat for breakfast anyway. The Sikh sitting next to me seemed to lose all respect for me at this point, as Sikhs seem to be required to have meat at all meals. Of course, the only veggie option was the Hindu breakfast, but I thought that could be good. It turns out that's a euphemism for "everything must burn!". The fruit was good.

Coming into Delhi airport, you couldn't help but notice all the earthquake relief efforts in progress. Rest assured, the earthquake happened very far from here - the only part of India that suffered signficant losses is a border area that tourists weren't allowed in anyway. However, this airport seems to be a very major staging area for supplies. I saw lots of big, white UN helicopters (I later saw a UN truck in the street labeled UNMIS, full of troops - turns out that's the Sudan mission?!), and even a big US Air Force cargo plane refueling, plus lots and lots of Indian military cargo planes in various stages of taking off. It certainly explained the 10 minute delay we had landing.

Coming off the plane, the air kinda catches in my throat, my lungs burn slightly, and suddenly seems very familiar. Yes! It's Ontario Airport in August! They've obviously been working for decades to get the mix just right, and anyone from the eastern parts of the LA basin would have a hard time telling the difference. It's not like a "stay home, don't move" kind of day, but more of a "we've exceeded federal limits for the 200th day this year" kind of day. And they're obviously trying - it seemed like most of the vehicles I saw, of all shapes and sizes, were powered by CNG. That must have cost a fortune.

Anyway, back on the ground, waiting at the baggage claim, and the snooty girl plops down next to me and asks, in halting English, where I'm staying, and if I want to share a cab into town. It turns out she wasn't being rude, she was just Israeli. I'm not saying Israelis are rude - I've had many good conversations with them while travelling. But they seem to have one thing in common, which is no patience for small talk - they're very direct and to the point about everything (this would never be written in Israel!). And since she wasn't very confident of English, just ignoring me seemed quite reasonable.

Heading into town was such a complete contrast to Kolkata. In almost all aspects, it felt like going from a 3rd world to a 2nd world country. Even the beggars were dressed pretty well, not in tattered loincloths. The roads even had lanes, and many of the vehicles used them! One notable exception are the autorickshaws (called tuktuks in Thailand). These are little 3-wheeled taxis with basically a motorcycle inside, and room for at least 2 passengers. "Do they get those when they fail their driving test?" she asked. She also got extremely annoyed when we were stuck at a long light, a motorcycle pulls along side, and the guy sitting on the back practically sticks his head in our window for a look. "Am I a monkey in a cage?! Turn around!!!" Which of course doesn't have the desired effect, as the driver wants a look, as do all the motorists nearby. I try really hard not to laugh, without much success.

The cabbie didn't even give us a chance to tip him. Am I in the same country as Kolkata? We headed into the tourist ghetto and parted ways. She wants to stay someplace frequented only by Israelis who've just gotten out of military service. Though it seems kind of silly to go all the way to India and only hang out with people from home, I can understand that, especially since she doesn't feel too confident using English. I'm pretty lucky, as almost all world travellers have good English skills, so I can talk to almost any of them (conveniently in my own language). You'd think more Americans would travel, as it's easier for us than almost anyone!

I'm in the final stretch, dodging down this narrow street called Main Bazaar (mainly bizarre), trying to spot any landmark that will give me some idea where my first choice hotel is (there are gobs of signs everywhere, and I'm pretty sure I'll miss it on the first pass). The touts aren't nearly as hard to shake as they are in Kolkata, so that part's easy. But the traffic patterns are completely different. With all the hawkers narrowing the road, and huge cows everywhere, there's barely room for two of those autorickshaws to pass, but you've also got taxis, bicycles, motorcycles, dogs, etc. Absolutely no room for pedestrians, except it's also mostly pedestrians (if that makes any sense).

I never thought I'd say this, but I miss the incessant horns/bells in Kolkata. Anytime a vehicle was within a half block of any other vehicle or person, they'd start rapidly tapping their horn, usually several times a second! It was obnoxious at first, but you knew exactly where everything was, happily walking down the middle of the street, and dodge when the sound got close. You could probably even drive blind there, which could explain a lot of what I saw. And it wasn't done to be rude, it was just a common courtesy thing to let all the vehicles know exactly where you are at all times - a function that will be done by our car computers soon, I'm sure.

This has gotten a little long, so I'll be more concise. Hotel is much better. They were honest that I got the worst room in the place (the one that's always available), but they've promised to get me a better one, and as it is, it's so much nicer than what I've had. Even hot water, though that shorted out with plenty of smoke during my shower this morning. Lots of good little restaurants and interesting travellers abound.

Tomorrow I'll head out of the ghetto and try to catch a few of the distant tourist sites (no commuters, so you can actually get places easily). No idea how long I'll be in Delhi yet. I don't think the pollution's bad enough to bother me, so I'll probably stay a few days. Gobs to see here.