Thursday in Delhi

Here is a photo of Rachel in one of her first bubble-baths. She just LOVES bubble-baths.

Today we were supposed to go to the Taj Mahal but after a nice but expensive breakfast we realized that we were experiencing the "Delhi Belly" which is probably a more ubiquitous Indian landmark. So we stayed in the hotel room and nursed our sickness.

We did manage to go out shopping today, but it was more like being picked on for four blocks. In the process we learned how totally worthless our over-priced hotel's concierge was. We wanted a basic American-style shopping experience where we could buy some supplies for the trip home. You know, batteries for the camera, vitamin C, t-shirts for Rachel. More Pepsid would be nice. In other words, no handicrafts or haggling or offers to take us to a better shopping area etc. etc. etc. The concierge gave us a map and told us we could find anything we wanted about four blocks away. Once we were on the street we were covered with people offering to sell us various carved goods, necklaces, shoe-shines, and on and on and on. For FOUR BLOCKS! One guy never got the message that I did not want to buy his carved snake and I almost grabbed it and threw it into traffic. But I restrained myself and kept saying "No!"

We did see one sad thing, however. As we turned a corner to make our way back to the hotel we could barely see through our entourage an Indian guy in an almost-nice business suit face down on the ground, totally still. A small group of people around him looked at him but kind of shrugged their shoulders. We couldn't tell how long that guy had been down there on the ground like that, but when someone turned him over he seemed to be kind of stiff.

I wanted to try some CPR because I thought the guy was having a heart attack, but Martina, viewer of many more CSI episodes than I, said, "no, he is already dead. RM has already set in." She walked on and I decided to stay with her. I hope she was right. But so far as I could tell no one else was doing anything helpful. And of course we were still covered with this swarm of solicitors, so we were really in full retreat mode anyway. Who knows, if I started pumping on that guy's chest someone might have offered to sell me some used surgical gloves or maybe they would want to offer us all a ride to a hospital further away than the one nearby. Or maybe sell me that carved snake to use in clearing that guy's throat, or who knows... It was all pretty bad.

And what about the people in Delhi? Not just the pests, but the average guy or gal here? The Raj and Indira 6-pack. I for one have noticed many differences between this crowd and the people from Pune. Much more western dress here, and it seems as if the facial features in Pune were more of a Pakistani/Persian mix, whereas here in Delhi it looks as if there is more of a mix with Chinese features. And lighter skin color.

And that head-wagging is not so prevelent here. Oh, that's right, we never explained that. In Pune we started noticing that instead of nodding yes, the people there would wag their head, so that the top of the head would go one way left or right and the chin the other way. I tried to do it myself but Martina told me my neck needed to stay still and the head needed to just wag on its own. And by the time I had this perfected we flew to Delhi where I can't use it as much. The next time I am in the US and meet someone from the Mumbai area I will give it a try to see if I still have the touch. Good thing we have Rachel so I can use it on her.

And speaking of Rachel, she is really loosening up, so much so that we almost miss that shy, quiet girl we picked up at the orphanage a few days ago. She is constantly talking Marathi to us, and we are trying our best to understand her and talk English back to her. Kind of like that movie, 1941, where the German soldier and the Japanese submarine guys are all talking their own languages to each other and they all seemed to understand each other. (The viewer understands too because there are English subtitles. That movie was a classic!) Anyway, Rachel is so energetic and constant that we are nick-naming her "Our Little Monsoon."

Well, tomorrow is our last full day here and then we go home. Everything seems to be paid up, including our return air tickets (Rachel's ticket had to be paid separately -- long story there). I never did care for Neal Diamond music but the tune "Coming To America" is totally stuck in my mind. And not the elevator-music version without vocals -- in my mind Neal Diamond is singing away with that voice of his. Yes, that, well, horsey Neal Diamond voice... It goes on and on... Some people like his voice. I guess.

Till tomorrow!

--Tom