Since all the company members were out of town on their Team-Building workshop, Tanu was kind enough to find one of The Danceworx apprentices [they’re called ‘probationers’ but I hate to use that term because it sounds like they were in prison] to accompany me back to Old Delhi. So at 12:30, I hooked up with Stanley near the Patel Nagar train station. Pulling up on his motorbike he alighted immediately, ready to take the train [Tanu had given him the 411 about me & motor bikes [not in THIS life]. Though it was the first time we’d meet I liked him instantly, just like every single one of the dancer-teachers I had the honor to meet & work with on this gig.
The outing would take me back into the sheer pandemonium of the famous Chandni Chowk Market. Since all my pictures had been corrupted by a defective card reader, I just HAD to try to recapture what I first saw so I was all geeked up & ready to go. [As mentioned in an earlier post titled HORRORS, that errant card reader wiped out all 200+ pix shot within the first couple weeks including my first trip to the Taj Mahal! Upon discovery I had a MAJOR meltdown, one rivaling that of a two year old. The ones I’ve shot since AM [After Meltdown] were superlative, so I hoped to keep the magic goin’ one more time.
Upon arrival, we sought out a rickshaw driver but was told they were not allowed to go to Chandni. One guy informed us of the situation but added he’d do it for a price. NEXT! Waiting, we continued to strike out so we decide to walk down a bit. I see a rickshaw coming towards us & I can’t believe it!! It’s the SAME DRIVER who took me down Chandni Chowk to the Red Fort the first time WEEKS ago! Of all the hundreds of drivers, what are the odds I’d see the same one? He recognized me as well & not only did he agree to take us, he would accept whatever I gave him. Coo-el!
He started down the famed street but abruptly turned back, taking us down the main drag. Boring! He did eventually tell Stanley he really wasn’t supposed to go down there. I was disappointed but not as much as by what I didn’t see: the oodles & oodles of people upon people toting impossibly huge burdens, straining the road to the storefront walls.
Anywho, I made sure I got a picture of my driver when we disembarked, paid & we started off to look for silver jewelry. When I didn’t see what I was looking for, we made the decision to head to Dilli Haat, my favorite market. Happily, they were open [different markets are closed certain days of the week] & it was convenient since I needed to buy US dollars & there was a Western Union across that 6 lane highway [which was my FAVORITE thing to have done in week 1 besides almost getting hit by an auto-rickshaw] but by this point, I was feeling like a native. Well, sort of. Eh, not really, but I did have that ‘been there done that’ swagger in my mind so I was game…and since nothing regarding protocol is ever simple in this country of COURSE once across that 6 lane highway with crazy-insane driving they at the Western Union would tell me to go to a bank! OF COURSE while they buy US dollars, they don’t SELL them. Awwwwwrighty then! AND of COURSE later on when I do go to a bank, they don’t exchange money EITHER, leaving me with the Dreaded Money Changer. Sigh. That’s about all you can do when you know you’re getting beat but know ya need to deal.
The rest of the day flows & it’s time to leave India. En route, I realize a strikingly interesting thing: how I had fallen for the okedoke when I first arrived. Once through customs, I saw an airport which is new & modern, the highway paved & gleaming, framed with palm trees on either side, doing their palm tree thing in a very welcoming way saying ‘this, is INDE-AHHHH, a very modern, place to be.’ I sat back & was ready to soak it all in. Don’t remember how many miles away before it began to dawn on me that I was indeed looking at a cow & there were four-five lines of cars in THREE LANES! The roads had become bumpy, the city choked with sand & dust. Instead of relaxing I did that ghost driving thing when you react as if you have your own set of brakes replete with gas pedal, like your impulses guide the car too. I realized my first impression was that of a modern, bustling metropolis but the reality is that India is a DEVELOPING country. I think perhaps if I had kept that in mind, it wouldn’t have taken me almost my entire stay to acclimate as I was blocked by my expectation. A very valuable lesson I hope I remember when I need to. We tend to allow our expectations to supersede what is truly in the moment, rendering us blind & therefore you can’t really get with what’s going on right in front of you. These are some of the thoughts I sift through as I take the reverse trip back, seeing the sand & dust eventually disappear to the promise of the shiny, modern metropolis I envisioned upon arriving.
Totally & happily surprised I was able to change my seat easily, [what a concept!] I flew through security to the gate. Was a bit apprehensive because everything was way too easy. Way. Then I make a discovery: WIFI! I also find out my international roaming with AT&T had kicked in, that was a whole NUTTAH episode that took place not long after my arrival but oh well, hey. But WIFI! I could check my email, I could I could I could I can’t. WHAT?! You have to be a PAID subscriber of Airtel to use it??? OH CRAP! & after I get all excited because the little balloon said I was connected WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
So I told myself since I managed to go 6 weeks without internet access I could handle sitting in the airport without it. Calm again, it was time to board. & to become totally irritated. After standing on a very long line to go through yet another security check point just prior to boarding, the fat man made me get off the line RIGHT WHEN I WAS ALMOST TO THE DOOR! WHY? Because I didn’t have a stamp on a tag for my purse! I had a tag for my carry on but it hadn’t been stamped either. Now my boarding pass was stamped so it proved I had been through security the first time. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH I was hot! I had to march back to the FIRST check point where they put my bags through the screening AGAIN, stamped my tags then stormed back to check point 2 & the fat little man gruffly waved me on. OOH! Man I was hot! I had to grin though because I still had my bottle of water
…but I was outright smiling when I saw my seat had been changed to an exit row for the 16 hour flight. Wah-HOOOOO!
