Just taking a break from the website. It is being constructed at a relatively slow and steady pace as getting a hold of Happy (my employer) has been difficult. But, as soon as we get the domain name and ftp instructions, it will be viewable at thedeafway.org.
Things are quite slow right now in general, as compared to the wild times of the first two months here. I spend most of my days at home — except when I am rescued by either Tom or Mutya to go do something. I also have been told by Happy that going to Deaf Way twice a week is interfering with the website's development, so I go in oon my other n Saturdays only.
Will probably be going to Ladac in July, as well as the volunteer conference in Kolkatta. I did some work on the conference report of which I am very proud. I've posted it on my other blog: bent horizon.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Still.. Alive
There will be no images in this overdue blog. Nothing alienates viewers from a website more than lack of updates — so I'm hoping to will you all back...
In summation, since my last blog update, I stayed in Palolem, came back to Delhi and stayed in the guest house, met a bunch of new volunteers, went to Agra and Jaipur with them (that's where the Taj Mahal is, went to Manali and Solang (in the Himalayas) and have been working on the website and Conference Report since. Actually, the report is finished and it's just the website now.
Been teaching three deaf and one hearing person a small host of web-based programs they will need to maintain the site after I'm gone. That's been going fine, but challenging nonetheless. Been going to the gym to improve my physique (which has gotten worse only if you consider a decrease in muscle and increase in fat detrimental), and to help with my ever-increasing back pain. It's not that bad really and the gym has improved it. I blame the pain on the fact that counters (kitchen) are shorter here — just like the people. I surely had nothing to do with the fact that I slouch all day, sometimes in front of a computer, have crooked legs, flat feet and am getting older. The counters.
We (we being Mutya and I) are meeting the new volunteer from Germany in the next couple of days. I promise to fill you in on other details including the Conference Report (which looks awesome). Time passes much slower here, after all.
In summation, since my last blog update, I stayed in Palolem, came back to Delhi and stayed in the guest house, met a bunch of new volunteers, went to Agra and Jaipur with them (that's where the Taj Mahal is, went to Manali and Solang (in the Himalayas) and have been working on the website and Conference Report since. Actually, the report is finished and it's just the website now.
Been teaching three deaf and one hearing person a small host of web-based programs they will need to maintain the site after I'm gone. That's been going fine, but challenging nonetheless. Been going to the gym to improve my physique (which has gotten worse only if you consider a decrease in muscle and increase in fat detrimental), and to help with my ever-increasing back pain. It's not that bad really and the gym has improved it. I blame the pain on the fact that counters (kitchen) are shorter here — just like the people. I surely had nothing to do with the fact that I slouch all day, sometimes in front of a computer, have crooked legs, flat feet and am getting older. The counters.
We (we being Mutya and I) are meeting the new volunteer from Germany in the next couple of days. I promise to fill you in on other details including the Conference Report (which looks awesome). Time passes much slower here, after all.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Will Post Soon!
Sorry for the delay in posting, I have been busy — I promise. The next post will be of the tropical paradise that is Palolem followed by some briefer posts of places I visited and what's been going on the last last three weeks or so.
In the meantime, I leave you with this image of a mountain puppy that I met in Manali (at least three posts away).
PS: Leave comments. I don't even care if they're flames at this point.
In the meantime, I leave you with this image of a mountain puppy that I met in Manali (at least three posts away).PS: Leave comments. I don't even care if they're flames at this point.
Monday, March 12, 2007
February 27th to March 7th; Part 2 ~ Hellish Goa
The Title is Misleading
You might recognise this person in the picture. That is Deb. She is splashing about in the waves in a place I would anything but hellish. I feel is image typifies and sums up well the environment that was Goa. The conference itself was not exactly thrilling, but we made up for that in the evenings. Suffice to say that I am deeply spoiled now in terms of what I expect from my volunteer experience.
I like this image. It's the sign of the Bollywood Hotel — the place stayed for a glorious week. Being in a more rural setting, I got to appreciate more what people meant when they said "Delhi is not India". There's some real poverty here — which stood in stark contrast to the lavishness of the hotel. I felt bad for a while, but was having too much fun to dwell on it.
Here is the entire (I think) group that was at Goa. From left to right, in descending rows. [Ahem] Caroline (from the UK), Ken (from the UK) Jane (from Ireland), Lisette (from the Netherlands), Rakhi (VSO Program Officer), Praveen (VSO office), Neil (from the UK), a waiter (from Goa), Carlos (from the Phillipines), Rimmy (who works for the VSO office in Delhi), Me, Peg (green shirt on left-hand-side), Tom (from the UK, black shirt right side), Joyce (from the Phillipines, far right side), Mutya and Juliet (from Uganda, where Tulan went), "Madmat" (VSO office), and Deb (again).
A Picture is Worth... blah blah blah
I could go into detail about my time at the Sundeep Hotel, but I think I'll just post a bunch of pictures instead. It was fun.
I'll post some more on the next post. I never thought I'd get sick of looking at pictures at gorgeous sunsets (I am in charge of processing all of the Goa images and sunsets figure prominently in many of them). The next post will be of Old Goa (the city had a name, but I can't remember right now).
You might recognise this person in the picture. That is Deb. She is splashing about in the waves in a place I would anything but hellish. I feel is image typifies and sums up well the environment that was Goa. The conference itself was not exactly thrilling, but we made up for that in the evenings. Suffice to say that I am deeply spoiled now in terms of what I expect from my volunteer experience.
I like this image. It's the sign of the Bollywood Hotel — the place stayed for a glorious week. Being in a more rural setting, I got to appreciate more what people meant when they said "Delhi is not India". There's some real poverty here — which stood in stark contrast to the lavishness of the hotel. I felt bad for a while, but was having too much fun to dwell on it.
Here is the entire (I think) group that was at Goa. From left to right, in descending rows. [Ahem] Caroline (from the UK), Ken (from the UK) Jane (from Ireland), Lisette (from the Netherlands), Rakhi (VSO Program Officer), Praveen (VSO office), Neil (from the UK), a waiter (from Goa), Carlos (from the Phillipines), Rimmy (who works for the VSO office in Delhi), Me, Peg (green shirt on left-hand-side), Tom (from the UK, black shirt right side), Joyce (from the Phillipines, far right side), Mutya and Juliet (from Uganda, where Tulan went), "Madmat" (VSO office), and Deb (again).A Picture is Worth... blah blah blah
I could go into detail about my time at the Sundeep Hotel, but I think I'll just post a bunch of pictures instead. It was fun.
I'll post some more on the next post. I never thought I'd get sick of looking at pictures at gorgeous sunsets (I am in charge of processing all of the Goa images and sunsets figure prominently in many of them). The next post will be of Old Goa (the city had a name, but I can't remember right now).
Thursday, March 08, 2007
February 27th to March 7th; Part 1 ~ The Sleeper Train
This has been an absolutely insane week-and-a-half. I'm going to try and get, in as much detail, what has happened on the train, at the conference, after the conference, and even the less-interesting things that have happened since I got back to Delhi. Alright, here goes:
How I Got My Mobile Phone
I have my new mobile phone (which I didn't want to buy, but couldn't get my way), which I got at the last minute from a nice guy named Anurag, who works at the E-Market mobile store. This is the best kind of mobile store, where flexibility is more important than corporate integrity. For those Torontonians, think of an Indian Pacific Mall. Anyways, I wanted my Blackberry unlocked (which BTW, I will never be without again), but this was the night before and there was just no time. Suffice to say, that was a pretty chaotic evening which involved me running around Vasant Vihar like a crazed foreigner, jumping over VSO compound walls, panting and asking people who don't speak English questions in English - to which, not surprisingly, they responded to in Hindi. A fun evening, for sure. Point is; I got the cell phone.
Waiting at the Station
So we're (we being Mutya, Peggy, Debbie and Myself) at the train station and I, not knowing where I would be staying once I got back from Goa, have brought ALL of my belongings - which weighed approximately 1100 pounds. Oh, and this this was a sleeper train we'd be getting on to, for 30 hours. Already I was winded from carrying all that shit. And the train was two hours late. I did have the pleasure of watching a 5-foot-nothin'-tall man, who weighed a-hundred-and-nothin' pounds lift and carry my suitcase on his head. Much later, on the return flight, I would discover that the suitcase weighed close to 30 kilograms - so that was impressive. Also memorable around this time, was watching 95-pound Mutya (that's right, not even a hundred-and-nothin') be almost swept away by a mob of Delhians trying to get on to the general admission car. Fortunately my luggage was partially in their way - which provided an effective wall.
30 Hours of Sheer... Train Ride
Due to some prompting from Mutya, Tom and Peg at was decided previously that I should fly back to Delhi. This way, I would arrive in time for my placement (to begin on the 4th of March - or so I thought) and not have to do the 30-hour ride again. Suresh (who works at the VSO office) provided the train ticket at the best possible price, which, though Rs. 500 higher than what was online, was still a steal relative to Canadian prices.
After hauling the luggage on and cramming it under that seat, we all slept awhile. Upon awaking, I got to know the girls better as we sat and chatted in the partially-vacant section near the front of the car - much to the chagrin of an elderly Indian couple, who were too polite to tell the loud and abrasive Westerners to shut the fuck up and let them sleep.
Anyways, this is a lot of text, so here's some more pictures:
The Players
This is Deb. She is from York, England. Her voice reminds of Ringo Star's (though I'm sure she would slap me if she read that). Deb is very outgoing and personable. She definitely made the trip go by a lot faster. That and her laptop full of obnoxious Western music that we all enjoyed heartily. Some of the Indian passengers seemed genuinely annoyed, but I got the feeling this was a way for the girls to assert themselves as Westerners. They've all been abroad for some time, and the assertion may have been cathartic. So whoopee. I feel this photograph sums Deb up well. She enjoys the little things and has a great outlook on life. Also, an adventurers' spirit.
This is Mutya. Fortunately for her, I'm talking about the figure on the left. Mutya is a Delhi-based volunteer with whom I will eventually be sharing a flat with. For somebody who has never set foot outside of Asia, her English is near perfect. Much, much better than that of some Canadians I know. I had an photo of her 'scratching' her nose, but she insisted that I delete it. For sure, Mutya is full of surprises.
For those interested, the figure on the right is the waiter/caterer for the car. He's close to six foot tall and sleeps in the 'drawer' visible just above Mutya's head. I now realise that this is reflective of a low-caste lifestyle here in India. He provided surprisingly little food for a waiter (by which I mean none). But he was extremely polite to us throughout the trip - though he did open the drawer and scare the crap out of me at least once.
This is Peggy. In case you're wondering, Peggy got to ride the train in the First Class car - complete with live bands, marble flooring and banisters.
Peggy - or Peg, as some the volunteers oddly call her - has been volunteering/travelling for some time now. She may very well be the most well-travelled person I have met here to date, having explored much of Asia in addition to her home Scotland. Though pretty even-keeled most of the time, Peg can, when necessary, leap into action. Stationed at one of the stopover stations somewhere along the way, I was saved from being stranded by Peg when the train started moving. Good thing she yelled or I would have never been able to muster up the .025km/hour speed necessary to clamber on - and would never have had the pleasure of having an entire trainload of Indians laughing at me. Thanks Peg. You saved me.
Peg , also based in Delhi, has been very supportive throughout. Except for the time she 'accidentally' locked me in the guest house at VSO headquarters. I think that room must have been used as prison quarters at some time, as you can lock someone inside with the simple flip of a latch. [clears throat] ahem.. initiation. Joke or not, I would have paid money to have watched from the outside as I freed myself using dirty kitchen utensils. "Why didn't you just call the office and have someone let you out"? she says. That's right Peggy, just keep on laughing. [cracks knuckles]
This is some guy I was chatting with in the front-of-car area pictured in Mutya's picture and where the waiter would later scare the bejesus out of me. I can't remember his name. I think it might have been Rajath or something like that. He mentioned he sold bricks. The other guy wouldn't speak to me only utter things in Hindi to his friend, at which point both of them would laugh. Originally enticed by my digital camera, Rajath and I had quite an interesting conversation about caste, marriage, and the promiscuity of westerners. I'm not sure what he got out of the conversation, but after an hour or so, I got this:
- The caste system is similar to the class system. Except in that you can't buy your way into a better caste.
- Inter-caste marriages are deeply frowned upon. You risk being disowned.
- Indian men (or at least these two) believe westerners (men and women) live a near-pornographic lifestyle. When I told him I was free to date black, oriental or middle-eastern women back home, he just about fell out of his seat.
- A delicious pakora meal. I didn't tell the girls as we were all pretty hungry, but Rajath knew the waiter - who promptly came out of his drawer and produced several pakora plates - warm as if freshly made. I didn't ask where they came from.
Right After That Happened...
Actually, this might have been before... it feels like it's been a year since all of this happened. To the left is pictured what is known as an Indian or Eastern toilet. Recommended by my car mates, I decided to give it a try. Interesting to note, is that on the inside, there is a turnable latch (not too much unlike the one Peg used to incarcerate me, as previously mentioned), which gives the illusion of locking the Eastern toilet from the inside. Well, it doesn't - as I, and an unfortunate Indian woman, soon discovered with surprise and horror, respectively. Worst part is, I was standing up - so she got the Full Monty, so to speak. I felt more embarrassed for her than myself. Especially given my recent conversation with the brick guy regarding Indian... sexual modesty. So, I'm a perv - just so you know.
Goa
As we drew closer to our destination, the climate started to really heat up. I can honestly say this is the hottest weather I have ever experienced (getting close to 40 degrees C). This a picture of the landscape. You can't see the palm trees here, but you'll see plenty in future posts. We got picked up at the station without further complications and next thing I knew I was in a near-tropical paradise.
There will be much, much more, but I'm hungry.
How I Got My Mobile Phone
I have my new mobile phone (which I didn't want to buy, but couldn't get my way), which I got at the last minute from a nice guy named Anurag, who works at the E-Market mobile store. This is the best kind of mobile store, where flexibility is more important than corporate integrity. For those Torontonians, think of an Indian Pacific Mall. Anyways, I wanted my Blackberry unlocked (which BTW, I will never be without again), but this was the night before and there was just no time. Suffice to say, that was a pretty chaotic evening which involved me running around Vasant Vihar like a crazed foreigner, jumping over VSO compound walls, panting and asking people who don't speak English questions in English - to which, not surprisingly, they responded to in Hindi. A fun evening, for sure. Point is; I got the cell phone.
Waiting at the Station
So we're (we being Mutya, Peggy, Debbie and Myself) at the train station and I, not knowing where I would be staying once I got back from Goa, have brought ALL of my belongings - which weighed approximately 1100 pounds. Oh, and this this was a sleeper train we'd be getting on to, for 30 hours. Already I was winded from carrying all that shit. And the train was two hours late. I did have the pleasure of watching a 5-foot-nothin'-tall man, who weighed a-hundred-and-nothin' pounds lift and carry my suitcase on his head. Much later, on the return flight, I would discover that the suitcase weighed close to 30 kilograms - so that was impressive. Also memorable around this time, was watching 95-pound Mutya (that's right, not even a hundred-and-nothin') be almost swept away by a mob of Delhians trying to get on to the general admission car. Fortunately my luggage was partially in their way - which provided an effective wall.
30 Hours of Sheer... Train Ride
Due to some prompting from Mutya, Tom and Peg at was decided previously that I should fly back to Delhi. This way, I would arrive in time for my placement (to begin on the 4th of March - or so I thought) and not have to do the 30-hour ride again. Suresh (who works at the VSO office) provided the train ticket at the best possible price, which, though Rs. 500 higher than what was online, was still a steal relative to Canadian prices.After hauling the luggage on and cramming it under that seat, we all slept awhile. Upon awaking, I got to know the girls better as we sat and chatted in the partially-vacant section near the front of the car - much to the chagrin of an elderly Indian couple, who were too polite to tell the loud and abrasive Westerners to shut the fuck up and let them sleep.
Anyways, this is a lot of text, so here's some more pictures:
The Players
This is Deb. She is from York, England. Her voice reminds of Ringo Star's (though I'm sure she would slap me if she read that). Deb is very outgoing and personable. She definitely made the trip go by a lot faster. That and her laptop full of obnoxious Western music that we all enjoyed heartily. Some of the Indian passengers seemed genuinely annoyed, but I got the feeling this was a way for the girls to assert themselves as Westerners. They've all been abroad for some time, and the assertion may have been cathartic. So whoopee. I feel this photograph sums Deb up well. She enjoys the little things and has a great outlook on life. Also, an adventurers' spirit.
This is Mutya. Fortunately for her, I'm talking about the figure on the left. Mutya is a Delhi-based volunteer with whom I will eventually be sharing a flat with. For somebody who has never set foot outside of Asia, her English is near perfect. Much, much better than that of some Canadians I know. I had an photo of her 'scratching' her nose, but she insisted that I delete it. For sure, Mutya is full of surprises.For those interested, the figure on the right is the waiter/caterer for the car. He's close to six foot tall and sleeps in the 'drawer' visible just above Mutya's head. I now realise that this is reflective of a low-caste lifestyle here in India. He provided surprisingly little food for a waiter (by which I mean none). But he was extremely polite to us throughout the trip - though he did open the drawer and scare the crap out of me at least once.
This is Peggy. In case you're wondering, Peggy got to ride the train in the First Class car - complete with live bands, marble flooring and banisters.Peggy - or Peg, as some the volunteers oddly call her - has been volunteering/travelling for some time now. She may very well be the most well-travelled person I have met here to date, having explored much of Asia in addition to her home Scotland. Though pretty even-keeled most of the time, Peg can, when necessary, leap into action. Stationed at one of the stopover stations somewhere along the way, I was saved from being stranded by Peg when the train started moving. Good thing she yelled or I would have never been able to muster up the .025km/hour speed necessary to clamber on - and would never have had the pleasure of having an entire trainload of Indians laughing at me. Thanks Peg. You saved me.
Peg , also based in Delhi, has been very supportive throughout. Except for the time she 'accidentally' locked me in the guest house at VSO headquarters. I think that room must have been used as prison quarters at some time, as you can lock someone inside with the simple flip of a latch. [clears throat] ahem.. initiation. Joke or not, I would have paid money to have watched from the outside as I freed myself using dirty kitchen utensils. "Why didn't you just call the office and have someone let you out"? she says. That's right Peggy, just keep on laughing. [cracks knuckles]
This is some guy I was chatting with in the front-of-car area pictured in Mutya's picture and where the waiter would later scare the bejesus out of me. I can't remember his name. I think it might have been Rajath or something like that. He mentioned he sold bricks. The other guy wouldn't speak to me only utter things in Hindi to his friend, at which point both of them would laugh. Originally enticed by my digital camera, Rajath and I had quite an interesting conversation about caste, marriage, and the promiscuity of westerners. I'm not sure what he got out of the conversation, but after an hour or so, I got this:- The caste system is similar to the class system. Except in that you can't buy your way into a better caste.
- Inter-caste marriages are deeply frowned upon. You risk being disowned.
- Indian men (or at least these two) believe westerners (men and women) live a near-pornographic lifestyle. When I told him I was free to date black, oriental or middle-eastern women back home, he just about fell out of his seat.
- A delicious pakora meal. I didn't tell the girls as we were all pretty hungry, but Rajath knew the waiter - who promptly came out of his drawer and produced several pakora plates - warm as if freshly made. I didn't ask where they came from.
Right After That Happened...
Actually, this might have been before... it feels like it's been a year since all of this happened. To the left is pictured what is known as an Indian or Eastern toilet. Recommended by my car mates, I decided to give it a try. Interesting to note, is that on the inside, there is a turnable latch (not too much unlike the one Peg used to incarcerate me, as previously mentioned), which gives the illusion of locking the Eastern toilet from the inside. Well, it doesn't - as I, and an unfortunate Indian woman, soon discovered with surprise and horror, respectively. Worst part is, I was standing up - so she got the Full Monty, so to speak. I felt more embarrassed for her than myself. Especially given my recent conversation with the brick guy regarding Indian... sexual modesty. So, I'm a perv - just so you know.Goa
As we drew closer to our destination, the climate started to really heat up. I can honestly say this is the hottest weather I have ever experienced (getting close to 40 degrees C). This a picture of the landscape. You can't see the palm trees here, but you'll see plenty in future posts. We got picked up at the station without further complications and next thing I knew I was in a near-tropical paradise.There will be much, much more, but I'm hungry.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Leave Comments!
I will be back from the Goa conference soon, which has been absolutely awesome so far. By the time I'm done here I will have:
- a tan
- a better understanding of volunteering
- new friends
- a whole bunch a stories daily from the last time I blogged
I just have one request:
Post comments!
You just click on the link called "COMMENTS" directly under this text.
- a tan
- a better understanding of volunteering
- new friends
- a whole bunch a stories daily from the last time I blogged
I just have one request:
Post comments!
You just click on the link called "COMMENTS" directly under this text.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Deaf Way and Other Stuff
The Deaf Way Foundation
This is an image of the people I will be working with at the Deaf Way. I must say, I have only just met these people, am not good with names, and these are Indian names - though, that might actually make this easier. The only person I'm going to mention at this point is Arun (a.k.a. "Happy"). He's the man facing left with the blue shirt on the far left. He's the president of Deaf Way and a really nice guy. He took me out for lunch on the 17th (I think). He can hear. It was his son who dissed the Indian food at the picnic, which I mentioned in a previous post.
Sundeep Hotel ~ Block F-8/22, Vasant Vihar
This is my (messy) room at the Sundeep Hotel. The bed and pillows are hard, but comfortable, the lighting confusing, and the room service excellent. As you can see, I have availed myself of all of my electronic equipment. The place is generally noisy, with the occasional man in the morning uttering some kind of prayer. Sounds like "eeeoooome". I haven't asked, but I think it may be some kind of Delhian wake up call - though I just heard one outside and it's almost noon. I'm not getting the feeling that there are many adult Delhians awake at this time.
This is the washroom. This is the Canadian washroom snob of four days ago talking:
[imagine a voice similar to the Millionaire from Gillian's Island]
Note the lack of shower curtain. See that Shower head and the top water knobs? They don't work. You have to turn on this thing (not pictured but to the right) called a geyser for 15-20 minutes to get hot water at all. Oh, and it is not recommended that non-Delhians drink this water or ever brush their teeth with it (though I did that this morning and am waiting to pay the consequences). I still do not know what the bucket on wheels is for.
Yeah, that was me four days ago. I have since cut my teeth a bit by taking at least two cold showers (before I figured out how the geyser works) and by taking a ride on an auto-rickshaw (more on that later). On a side note, I have only taken a New Delhi Dump (if you know what I mean) once - though I'm sure I'll get better acquainted with the toilet soon. I need to buy more books.
I felt pretty clever after this. You see, Indians - as a rule - do not use maps. I couldn't get one of my area (Vasant Vihar), so I took a photograph of one of the dilapidated street signs and have printed it out. Ha ha! As you might be able to see, the area is divided into Blocks; labelled A, B,C and so on. This map will allow me to get lost in entirely new, more creative and embarrassing ways. Directions from locals are not too helpful either. If a local gives you directions to go right then left then left, I generally go right and then ask the next Delhian which way to go. It's not that they're rude or anything (quite the opposite), but English is not their first language and they know the area so intimately, that it's hard to get us foreigners up to speed.
I will leave you with an image I took of myself while I was still jet lagged and couldn't sleep at four in the morning. This guy looks like the life of the party, eh? I'm going to take pics of myself over the course of this thing to chronicle things like weight loss, exhaustion and to see if I can actually grow a beard.
This is an image of the people I will be working with at the Deaf Way. I must say, I have only just met these people, am not good with names, and these are Indian names - though, that might actually make this easier. The only person I'm going to mention at this point is Arun (a.k.a. "Happy"). He's the man facing left with the blue shirt on the far left. He's the president of Deaf Way and a really nice guy. He took me out for lunch on the 17th (I think). He can hear. It was his son who dissed the Indian food at the picnic, which I mentioned in a previous post. Sundeep Hotel ~ Block F-8/22, Vasant Vihar
This is my (messy) room at the Sundeep Hotel. The bed and pillows are hard, but comfortable, the lighting confusing, and the room service excellent. As you can see, I have availed myself of all of my electronic equipment. The place is generally noisy, with the occasional man in the morning uttering some kind of prayer. Sounds like "eeeoooome". I haven't asked, but I think it may be some kind of Delhian wake up call - though I just heard one outside and it's almost noon. I'm not getting the feeling that there are many adult Delhians awake at this time. 
This is the washroom. This is the Canadian washroom snob of four days ago talking:[imagine a voice similar to the Millionaire from Gillian's Island]
Note the lack of shower curtain. See that Shower head and the top water knobs? They don't work. You have to turn on this thing (not pictured but to the right) called a geyser for 15-20 minutes to get hot water at all. Oh, and it is not recommended that non-Delhians drink this water or ever brush their teeth with it (though I did that this morning and am waiting to pay the consequences). I still do not know what the bucket on wheels is for.
Yeah, that was me four days ago. I have since cut my teeth a bit by taking at least two cold showers (before I figured out how the geyser works) and by taking a ride on an auto-rickshaw (more on that later). On a side note, I have only taken a New Delhi Dump (if you know what I mean) once - though I'm sure I'll get better acquainted with the toilet soon. I need to buy more books.
I felt pretty clever after this. You see, Indians - as a rule - do not use maps. I couldn't get one of my area (Vasant Vihar), so I took a photograph of one of the dilapidated street signs and have printed it out. Ha ha! As you might be able to see, the area is divided into Blocks; labelled A, B,C and so on. This map will allow me to get lost in entirely new, more creative and embarrassing ways. Directions from locals are not too helpful either. If a local gives you directions to go right then left then left, I generally go right and then ask the next Delhian which way to go. It's not that they're rude or anything (quite the opposite), but English is not their first language and they know the area so intimately, that it's hard to get us foreigners up to speed.
I will leave you with an image I took of myself while I was still jet lagged and couldn't sleep at four in the morning. This guy looks like the life of the party, eh? I'm going to take pics of myself over the course of this thing to chronicle things like weight loss, exhaustion and to see if I can actually grow a beard.
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