What's worse...?

What's worse than having jet lag? Having a baby with jet lag. What's even worse than that? Having a jet lagged baby who has just learned to crawla and excited about new mobility especially ability to crawl over obstructions (sleeping parents) in bed.

The past month has been fun, exciting, eye-opening and warm. It is now time to reverse damage caused by doting grandparents and aunts/uncles (No Sash, no chocolate cake and coconut water for you today) and get back into the routine. But first, we must stop waking up at 3am....

Some 3am thoughts...

1) Why do we call anorexia and bulimia eating disorders? Shouldn't it be not eating disorders?

2) You know how those with non-eating disorders look in the mirror and view their 40kg bodies as fat...well, I have the opposite problem. What do you call that? Optimistic or delusional?

Delhi: 1 December to 4 December

We arrived in Delhi on 1 Dec 2006. I had been apprehensive about the trip after our rather negative experience with the Indian Embassy in New York. The travel advisory in our guide book did not help. From the touts at the airport, to the taxi drivers who charge exorbitant rates only to NOT take you to your hotel and of course the waiters who poison you and then take you to doctors who are in cahoots with everyone it seems. The taxi ride went well. I had arranged with the hotel for an airport pick-up. The taxi was small so our luggage had to be strapped to the roof rack. The co-driver was friendly, making small talk during the whole ride, trying to gauge how much we made so that he could name a “fair price” for a taxi ride to Agra the next day. There was nothing much to see on the ride to Old Delhi as it was dark, but it was absolutely chaotic. The continuous honking and haphazard driving was intriguing that night. Within a week, I swore that if I ever became Prime Minister of India I would outlaw the sale of car horns in India.

We stayed at the Broadway Hotel in Old Delhi near Delhi Gate. It was clean, if rather dated. The most interesting part about the hotel was the view of the rooftops from our window. We could see children flying what seemed to be a thousand kites from the rooftops. We saw women doing laundry. We witnessed men taking showers from public taps in the street, street vendors selling food to school children, and beggars holding babies (the most heart wrenching sight ever). We watched everyday Delhians go about their poverty stricken lives from our 3 star hotel window, and felt overwhelming gratitude for what we had in life. Our baby was safe at home being pampered by her grandparents. We were on a quasi holiday. We would not have to think twice about buying dinner at the restaurant downstairs where the price of our dinner would probably feed a family of 10 for a month. Made me think that life is just pure and absolute luck. It could have easily been me, or Sasha, down there.

We hired a taxi form a travel agent for the 4 hour trip to Agra the next day. It cost us 4500 Rupees (US$100) for the car, 500 Rupees for road tax, and a 500 Rupees tip. The driver makes 4500 Rupees a month. Do the math and you can understand why “normal” Indians are complaining about wealth disparity. We visited Aqbar’s tomb, and then on to the legendary Taj Mahal. It is everything that is said about it. Majestic, romantic (although there are conflicting stories about the romance factor), a work of genius, a diamond in India’s crown (since the British took the other diamond).

While I am glad that I visited the Taj Mahal, I think it is the journey there (and back) that affected me most (and will do so for a long time). In India, there are no road lanes. There is however some form of order in the absolute chaos. The drivers honk continuously to warn the others of their whereabouts. The trucks get right of way, then the cows. Lets not forget the camel and bullock carts. We pass these vehicles without caution and when we have to stop, we are accosted by beggars carrying babies, children selling key chains and fans made out of peacock feathers, men offering monkeys to pose with for pictures, and snake charmers. Sometimes you get a vehicle in your “lane” going in the opposite direction. It seems that it is sometimes faster than waiting for a U-turn. It is dusty, and smog just envelops everything. There are tents on the side of the highway. Families cook in the open. Mothers hold their babies, just sitting, and staring into nothing, as everything passes them. Next time I am taking the train.