Miles away in Delhi, after months of silence I am sure you were wondering what’s Katherine up to? Has Delhi belly got the better of her?; Has she decided to take ditch it all in and try her luck as a Bollywood backing dancer?; Or has she checked in to an ashram, swapped her city clothes for a tie dye number, grown dreads and is now spending her days sitting under a tree meditating?
Well, I hate to disappoint.
These days Delhi Belly is solved by prescription drugs available over the counter. Without a prescription. Now while I am a Bollywood convert, rhythm and coordination are required for even the most basic ‘bhangra’ moves. I have never and will never unfortunately possess either. As for ditching the job and heading to McCleod Ganj and Rishikesh (where the Beatles found themselves). There is an element of truth in that. But 10 days of vipassana meditation in an ashram, with no talking was just not within the realm of possibility given my heritage (the inability to both sit still and silent). And I have already tried tie dye clothing and African braids in my hair neither of which suited me much.
So what have I been doing? Good question. Actually, probably much the same as you. Commuting to work, sitting long hours behind a desk and computer, eating and sleeping. Nevertheless, for all you armchair anthropologists out there I thought it would be nice to give you a glimpse of elements of my routine over the last couple of months, as what may be a standard day back 'home' is infinitely more interesting somewhere 'faraway'.
These days I no longer wake up to the call to prayer. Instead I respond to the call of the blackberry as its alarm stirs me at 7am. South Indian 'Devans' coffee http://www.devans.in/ and fresh fruit with 'Mother Dairy' Dahi for breakfast. The fruit is bought from one of the men who pound the neighbourhood with their cart piled with neat rows of seasonal stock. They carefully weigh the produce with scales and weights, before quoting the price and putting me to shame by the their mental arithmetic abilities.
As I leave the house for work, I walk past the drivers washing their owners’ cars on a daily basis, teenage boys walking their master’s dogs, and retirees in their turbans/salwar kameez and trainers power walking around the neighbourhood park.
My commute has depending on where I am working. When I have been at the GIZ office I have gone by autorik. Commuting by auto rik has meant I've got to know the local 'gang' of drivers so well I no longer even have to speak to for them to take me to work for the 70 rupees metered price. The only thing is on automatic pilot they have also tried to take me there at weekends too....
When I have been at SIDBI's office I’ve taken the metro. The metro is a fairly new addition to Delhi's infrastructure landscape. In the building of it they 'forgot' to include a footbridge or underpass to the Jangpura metro stop which is the other side of a 6 lane road from the colony where everyone actually lives.
Numerous travel writers say that India needs more than a lifetime to discover. There is some truth in this as after four months I am still trying to figure out how to quite literally cross the road.
Despite this minor glich, I have found the Delhi metro is a great way of getting around. It's efficient, cheap and clean. Best of all, it is probably one of the most 'gender sensitive' metros worldwide. Every train has a women's only section of the platform and a dedicated 'women's only' carriage. It does speak volumes about gender relations though in a country where female infanticide is a persistent problem, and where women's representation in the formal workforce is low. As I commute to work in the sole women's carriage, the remaining 9 'mixed' carriages are essentially men only.
'Morning Ma’am' and tea laced with mountains of sugar (and three extra sugar cubes tucked on the side of the saucer) greet me on arrival at work. I am inclined to think that dentistry is a profitable business in India from all the evidence I've seen to date.
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