Delhi - Agra

Met up with Kutob today and we decided to explore Old Delhi. The tour basically took in most of New Delhi, consisting of the embassies, Parliament, Museums etc.. But we were both eager to see the real Delhi and away from all the touristy places yesterday (which quite frankly, even on more than an hour's sleep, mostly bore me to tears. I only did that tour yesterday to save me from having to walk all over Delhi by myself being accosted by men every step of the way offering 'assistance' and enquiring several times over whether I would like to see their shop: 'Scuze me Mam? Mam? MAM? You look for something? You like scarf? You come with me. See my shop. Come. COME!")

We jumped in an auto-rickshaw (fume-spilling green and yellow painted three wheeled hunks of metal that run all over Delhi in vast numbers and add to the pollution in staggering amounts). We had a delicious breakfast of a circular hollow and crispy deep-fried bread, with a chickpea and potato curry, washed down with very sweet chai tea. Then we had a sweet of carrot, cashew nuts and almonds with cheese curds, which was still warm from being freshly made that morning. It kind of looked like un-cooked carrot cake and it was delicious. Kutub ordering everything for me and telling me about it all. I am writing down all the important words like 'milch nahi' (no spice!). Lots of people asking us all the time where we are from and staring in the most incredulous way because (I guess) it is unusual to see an white girl with an Indian guy. (Although he is so western it is difficult to believe he is Indian sometimes - I don't think he feels much like a local at all and sometimes gets hassled more than me even which I find a great relief that it's not just me). The locals can certainly spot you a tourist mile away, even if you look just like them.

Into another autorickshaw and on to the Great Mosque. Delhi is a lot like Indonesia when I was travelling through there after Uni 10 years ago.... in a way I am glad as turns out it is not as much of a shock as if I had never seen this before. The first thing that strikes you is the pollution - air and noise. You can literally see the air and not much else past a couple of hundred meters. It's horrifying that millions of people are breathing in this much dust every day of their lives. I noticed some street-side leaves on a bush are all covered in about 2-3mm of dust, and,oddly enough, appeared to be thriving in the watery sunlight. There are homeless men women and childern everywhere and filthy kids begging on the streets amongst the chaotic traffic and people maimed with legs and arms missing, or if not missing, sticking out at all odd angles. These people mostly seem to crawl around in the squalor, covered in so much dirt it is a wonder they aren't all terribly sick. Near the Old Mosque is a huge market with people selling all kinds of crap laid out on the very dirty streets. The rickshaw had stalled in traffic and it was quicker to walk so we hopped off and picked our way through the market. A lot of used computer books I noticed, all very outdated. (Fontran??) We picked our way around the market and into the mosque (take your shoes off at all mosques so feet getting a little dirty). It was very calming and with it's huge vaulted ceilings, had the effect of making you feel instantly like a small child. Also very quiet. Did I mention the noise pollution? As if the air quality isn't bad enough, they make it all the worse for themselves with this nonsensical and fanatical obsession with honking their horn. Kutub has been explaining to me that it is their way of saying 'I am here'. There is no such thing as a formal driving licence he tells me... none of this makes sense and it occured to me today that many things in India defy all logic. On the way to the railway station after the Great Mosque, we were on a cycle-rickshaw (the ones where a little skinny guy cycles big fat tourists like myself and the more affluent locals through the streets, while you perch on the a little forward sloping seet and pray he doesn't brake too hard and you get thrown off and land in a cowpat). Anyway, we were on this bridge and on the other side there was one guy on some kind of converted bicycle, carrying what looked like about fifty large cans of oil. They reached at least a story high and how they got them all to balance on there is a total mystery but how this guy could lug them up the bridge (and think - down it!) just defies all logic. Well - that kind of sums up India - there appears to be little sound reasoning, but somehow it works.

Anyway, we've had a South-Indian lunch of dosa (a large very flat bread that I'm quite coming to like) and more types of curry that I'll never remember the names of, and sweet chai tea. We think we will hang out together a bit longer and go to see the Taj Mahal tomorrow for a day trip and then maybe take a flight to Goa for a week or so. Then I will stay in the South of India for the remainder of my time in India where I am assured there is plenty to keep me occupied for three more weeks. I can't wait to get out of Delhi - three days is definately enough. But so glad I met Kutub - he is teaching me a little bit of Hindi even so I can get around later. I am also learning relative costs, bargaining for rickshaws, ordering food, what it means when people do strange things, (like when they make the sign of the cross when you give them money. This is because it is the first money they have received that day and they are thanking the Indian God of money).