Gentle Giant

I was in Jaipur this weekend, about to pay way too many rupees to fulfill my tourist fantasy when our autowallah said that we could go to his friend's house and ride his elephant. This girl is actually quite small for such a creature so we ended up riding her larger friend, Mustana. Her name is Nadia and I am in love.

(Please ignore my squeal at the end. My voice sometimes does that when I run into adorableness.)

Meter se?

Our taxi entering the exit ramp.

 Somebody needs to make a coffee-table book of Delhi driving. It is the most entertaining aspect of my day, mainly because what would be considered a "close call" in American driving happens about 17 times per minute in my autorickshaw.

Autowala

First, I bargain with one of these autowallah's in broken Hindi. (I'm getting pretty stubborn. I shout "Bhuyya! Thik bolo!", and then consult my Hindi book for rude words.) After managing to a. reach a good price and b. cram four fat Americans into a seat meant for three skinny Indians, we set off on a journey never seen on immaculate U.S. roads. At first I was told to just close my eyes, but I'm starting to enjoy the exhilaration of the ride. A tree in thriving in the middle of a one-way road, rear-view mirrors turned in to swiftly squeeze through two buses, driving in reverse on the freeway because you missed the exit, pedestrians rushing through eight lanes of traffic, it's all part of the charm. Okay, maybe I'm going just slightly crazy in India.

Good-day mates.

"It's like having all the TV channels on at once"

At first I was just shocked that I was here. I had researched so much, but all the chaotic driving, the children knocking about my rickshaw's door, the haggling, had suddenly sprung to life. Delhi has been magnificent, heartbreaking, humorous, glorious, confusing and everything in between. Like it's traffic, Delhi has no clear organization that we as Westerners can understand, and yet it has this organic intuitive way of running that somehow seems to work. The people are the warmest, most polite people--and yet they are prone to being brutally honest and engaging in shouting matches with vendors.

I am being general here, I know, because so much has happened that I don't know how to encompass it all.  I also don't  know if it is productive of me to write it all for all to see while I am still living here in Delhi

And so, I'm starting to realize that I have promised a little too much to people back home. I need time to just be here without the obligation of regurgitating my thoughts back to America in real time.  My Catholic guilt is tugging at me so I will try to post the occasional photos or quick weekly update. Otherwise, the lengthy analysis of my days here will mostly occur in my journal. Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry.