Yesterday I saw a dog drowning in a river.
It's incredibly hot in Delhi, which probably won't surprise anyone. It's not the kind of hot that you can avoid under a shady tree, or ignore with a few cold drinks. It's the kind of hot that gets under your skin and into your eyeballs and lives in your hair. It's oppressive, to say the least, when walking for five minutes sees you drenched in sweat.
It doesn't help that all of Delhi stinks. Sometimes of beautifully aromatic spices, sometimes of burning oil in a pan, sometimes of chai tea, sometimes of lemongrass (at the classier hotels). But more often than not, it smells of dust and sweat and piss and shit. Piles of trash line the streets. Rivers of sewerage flow under bridges. Many men seem to think it their right - nay, duty - to urinate on whatever they can. People have spat so much tobacco at the walls, there every shop is covered in red-brown stains... except Benetton, Nine West, Levi's, etc., who can afford to get their shops cleaned every week.
Connaught Place is the centre of Delhi, two big circles designed by the British and now taken over by Western shops, amputated beggars and the most tenacious touts you'll ever find. I spent hours there today, walking around, trying to find some sunglasses (I bought two pairs of dodgy aviators for $5 and the guy acted like he was ripping me off, so he probably was). Half the time, I was followed by random nice-seeming fellows who'd ask me about cricket, whether I like India, and cricket. They'd talk to me for about ten minutes and then they'd start desperately rambling. 'Come to this shop! I will get a free t-shirt! Yes! And a book! One half Hindi, other half English! Tell my family I have a free book! Please, sir! Come to this shop! Very good things! Cheap! Government!'
And that's when I'd have to start ignoring them, pushing my hand towards them with justifiable rudeness. Seriously, if you offer 50 no-thank-yous, they'll offer 100 please-sir-you-rich-man. Which is fairly true in India, but that doesn't mean I want to buy a giant wooden block resembling an elephant for four hundred bucks.
There are lots of incredibly awesome people in Delhi, of course. There are autorickshaw - that's a motorcycle / minivan, I guess - drivers who won't rip you off hugely, and they'll genuinely help you out. And there are young guys who just want to talk about cricket with an Australian, and laugh when I mention that we lost the Ashes (which, coincidentally, is the exact point when my well of cricket knowledge runs dry). And there are the beggars - and lord, there are many - who may see you as the sweaty, aviator-sporting personification of western fatcatness but don't guilt trip you and don't spit in front of where you're walking.
Tomorrow I'm flying to Goa, which is very beautiful and touristy, I hear. There's a brewery nearby, so I anticipate that I'll spend a fair bit of time drinking yummy, cheap Indian beer by the pool.
And to the dog... I was walking from the Defence Colony - no doubt there's a story behind the name - to the shops, and looked down a bridge to see a river of half-clean water rolling rapidly down a hill. And in the river was a dog, and he was only just afloat. He was spastically trying to heave himself up the half foot high bank. Another dog walked alongside him, watching him float down the river. I looked for a way to get down to the river, but couldn't find any. So the dog floated under the bridge, further down the hill, and I didn't look to see him come out the other side because it was too fucking sad. No who saw the drowning dog seemed to find it exceptional, and maybe it's not around the Defence Colony. Hopefully he got out at the end of the river. If he held on long enough, he definitely would've made it. I hope he did.
There are too many dogs here, lying half-dead under cars, their skeletal bodies occasionally heaving up to look for garbage to eat...
This is all not to imply I'm having a terrible time; shopping is fun, drinking cheap beer is fun, talking to friendly people about cricket is fun for the first 20 minutes, eating Indian food is mostly fun. And I've been here in Delhi for only 2 days - in addition to the 10 or so I spent here earlier this year - so maybe I just haven't found the real fun. I tried to go to the zoo today, but it was closed for religious reasons... which makes some sort of weird sense, I suppose. Maybe the fun is where the animals are at.
It's incredibly hot in Delhi, which probably won't surprise anyone. It's not the kind of hot that you can avoid under a shady tree, or ignore with a few cold drinks. It's the kind of hot that gets under your skin and into your eyeballs and lives in your hair. It's oppressive, to say the least, when walking for five minutes sees you drenched in sweat.
It doesn't help that all of Delhi stinks. Sometimes of beautifully aromatic spices, sometimes of burning oil in a pan, sometimes of chai tea, sometimes of lemongrass (at the classier hotels). But more often than not, it smells of dust and sweat and piss and shit. Piles of trash line the streets. Rivers of sewerage flow under bridges. Many men seem to think it their right - nay, duty - to urinate on whatever they can. People have spat so much tobacco at the walls, there every shop is covered in red-brown stains... except Benetton, Nine West, Levi's, etc., who can afford to get their shops cleaned every week.
Connaught Place is the centre of Delhi, two big circles designed by the British and now taken over by Western shops, amputated beggars and the most tenacious touts you'll ever find. I spent hours there today, walking around, trying to find some sunglasses (I bought two pairs of dodgy aviators for $5 and the guy acted like he was ripping me off, so he probably was). Half the time, I was followed by random nice-seeming fellows who'd ask me about cricket, whether I like India, and cricket. They'd talk to me for about ten minutes and then they'd start desperately rambling. 'Come to this shop! I will get a free t-shirt! Yes! And a book! One half Hindi, other half English! Tell my family I have a free book! Please, sir! Come to this shop! Very good things! Cheap! Government!'
And that's when I'd have to start ignoring them, pushing my hand towards them with justifiable rudeness. Seriously, if you offer 50 no-thank-yous, they'll offer 100 please-sir-you-rich-man. Which is fairly true in India, but that doesn't mean I want to buy a giant wooden block resembling an elephant for four hundred bucks.
There are lots of incredibly awesome people in Delhi, of course. There are autorickshaw - that's a motorcycle / minivan, I guess - drivers who won't rip you off hugely, and they'll genuinely help you out. And there are young guys who just want to talk about cricket with an Australian, and laugh when I mention that we lost the Ashes (which, coincidentally, is the exact point when my well of cricket knowledge runs dry). And there are the beggars - and lord, there are many - who may see you as the sweaty, aviator-sporting personification of western fatcatness but don't guilt trip you and don't spit in front of where you're walking.
Tomorrow I'm flying to Goa, which is very beautiful and touristy, I hear. There's a brewery nearby, so I anticipate that I'll spend a fair bit of time drinking yummy, cheap Indian beer by the pool.
And to the dog... I was walking from the Defence Colony - no doubt there's a story behind the name - to the shops, and looked down a bridge to see a river of half-clean water rolling rapidly down a hill. And in the river was a dog, and he was only just afloat. He was spastically trying to heave himself up the half foot high bank. Another dog walked alongside him, watching him float down the river. I looked for a way to get down to the river, but couldn't find any. So the dog floated under the bridge, further down the hill, and I didn't look to see him come out the other side because it was too fucking sad. No who saw the drowning dog seemed to find it exceptional, and maybe it's not around the Defence Colony. Hopefully he got out at the end of the river. If he held on long enough, he definitely would've made it. I hope he did.
There are too many dogs here, lying half-dead under cars, their skeletal bodies occasionally heaving up to look for garbage to eat...
This is all not to imply I'm having a terrible time; shopping is fun, drinking cheap beer is fun, talking to friendly people about cricket is fun for the first 20 minutes, eating Indian food is mostly fun. And I've been here in Delhi for only 2 days - in addition to the 10 or so I spent here earlier this year - so maybe I just haven't found the real fun. I tried to go to the zoo today, but it was closed for religious reasons... which makes some sort of weird sense, I suppose. Maybe the fun is where the animals are at.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
stay outa trouble mate..