"Shut Up About India Already!" "No."

Oh, hi, it's us again. I know, it's weird, right? After this post we'll break up the "We Went on the Shortest Trip to India Ever and For Some Reason Have Sixty Million Things to Say About It" Posts with some actual project stuff. Which-- Hey!-- is the reason for this weblog that you see here today. And there are plenty. Because even though we were COMPLETELY absent for 8 months, we were doing all kinds of nonsense and documenting the crap out of it.

Juuuust not sharing them with you, the four people that care. And, by the way, bless the four of you FOR caring. We know it's not easy.

Anyway, onto the next chapter...

Chapter 2: Delhi OR Michael: Nervous & Uncomfortable.

Even though we were in Delhi for the shortest amount of time (well, except Agra, I guess) it had the greatest impact on us. So we have a lot to say about it. This might be a good time to have coffee and feed the cat. Because it's a long post. Don't worry, it'll still be here when you get back.

So, like I said before, we arrived in Delhi. The airport was pretty mundane and we found our dude with the pick-up sign right away. And he showed us that just because the painted lines on the road SAY there should only be three lanes of traffic, that doesn't mean there can't always be six!!

In this super exciting ride, we saw a lot of Delhi that wasn't very pretty. And some that was just straight up sad. So poor Mike was whisked away to a foreign land, put into a car that I am sure his motion-sickness prone tummy considered to be it's worst nightmare (sans seat belts, of course) and shown a way of life that he cannot even begin to comprehend. At night. In 80,000 degree heat.

That's Fahrenheit.

When we reached our street--which was so tiny we were a bit concerned the car might not be able to travel down it-- you could almost hear Mike's stomach drop. It was very late at night and we were met with sickly dogs roaming about, people sleeping on the side of the street and trash and filth everywhere you looked. We weren't in Kansas anymore.

Seriously. Because we're from Kansas. And it's really nice there. Idyllic, really. So that's actually an apt statement.

Anyway, this is about the time we came up with a term to properly describe the look Mike had plastered on his face for the first few days: A Frightened Disney Princess in Distress. He had the down sloping eyebrows, the big, watery eyes, the slightly quivering lip. Plus, he's pretty like a princess.

Admit it: even you kind of want to steal his wallet, don't you?

Mary assured him that he'd feel better in the morning, so we set up our net, took a hose and bucket shower and settled in for sleep ("Hey, what are those brown bugs? Are they bed bugs?" "No, bed bugs are much smaller. Those are like little beetles or something.").

The next morning brought a strange realization: Human Garbage Disposal and his wife, Hungry Every Four Minutes, HAD NO APPETITE. A good percentage of the reason why we even embarked on this journey was for the food and, yet, when we settled in to our breakfast spot, we found that we had no interest in the delicious things on the menu. But we figured that we were just still adjusting and let it go.

So, as Mike enjoyed his breakfast of Coke and Mary force fed herself a piece of toast, Mike confessed how uncomfortable and terrified he was and Mary assured him that as soon as they left the block and started exploring he'd feel much better. So off they went, down the street and took a right.

And up comes a little tuk-tuk driver. "Hello, where are you going?"

"No, no. We don't need a ride. We want to walk."

"Okay, yes, but if you go that way, you will find a bad place. This is a very bad place for you. Please do not go there."

Oops.

So we negotiated a little ride from the guy to a good place, but not before he insisted on taking us by the government tourist office, because he thought we should have a map. This is about the time that Mike started thinking he should have married this nice young Bengali man instead of Mary, who is clearly trying to get him internationally murdered.

When we got to the office, the tourism guy, of course, laughed at us for attempting an India trip for such a short amount of time and offered to set up all of our transportation (we had lost many a reservation with the last minute visa mishap--blech) so as to maximize our time in the country. Mary was sure he was up to something, despite that he was wrangling prices cheaper than an outsider could manage, so he threw in a free tour of Delhi to calm her irrational paranoia. Yeah, good luck with THAT, tourism man.

So, it was goodbye to the tuk-tuk driver and hello to the taxi driver. His car had air conditioning and so we offered to let him live with us in the US. He should be arriving in a couple of weeks.

He told us his name would be too hard for us to pronounce but, because it rhymed, that we could just call him "Guru." And then said, "But I am not your teacher! Ahahahahahahahahaha!" He repeated this every time Mary tried to get his ACTUAL name.

Guru drove us around the city for a bit and we saw many painful but also amazing things. And wires. Guru was very excited to point out the telephone and electrical wires that drooped between the buildings. We acted excited for his sake. We really saw so many beautiful things that day that made Michael not want to cry on the bathroom floor.

...Such as this incredibly old and beautiful mosque, where we were taken on an unofficial tour by a mute man trying to make a buck. Yes, it was a rip and, yes, he was taking advantage of our whitey whiteness, but he REALLY got a lot across about that place considering he couldn't speak.

This is also where we had our first sock-you-in-the-gut moment. But more on that another time.

We saw the amazing Indira Gandhi Memorial Gardens, which, despite Michael's absurdly sweaty head (seriously, dude, save some for your armpits like your smelly, smelly wife), made our hearts a bit lighter for the first time.

There were beautiful families having beautiful picnics under trees and young couples holding hands and sharing secret laughs (we, meanwhile, were saying things to each other like, "Why are you touching me?? Can't you see how hot I am?!")...

...and, of course, such lovely monuments to the very idea of leading with compassion and courage.

We also went to the Lodhi Gardens, where Guru informed us that young lovers visit to sit and kiss. He said that he could not go in because he was single and all of that kissing would upset him. And then he laughed maniacally. And asked if Mike's sister was single.

That garden was more like the public parks that we were used to back home. Kids running about, sports being played, people just enjoying the day together (and we totally spied some kissing youngsters). The big difference was that there were also mausoleums and temples and ancient beauty everywhere. And a guy that tried to sell us his lunch.

And India Gate! We saw India Gate! See?

We went to Huyaman's Tomb, which Guru said was almost as wonderful as the Taj Majal. And, wow, it was amazing. We spent probably 2 hours just walking around and gasping.

In this area that you see below, there were people living up until the early 20th century, which, when you stepped inside the walls, somehow felt about a million years ago.

Seriously. Look at this. It's so beautiful that I want to grind it into a paste and put it between two slices of bread and eat it. And it would be very delicious.

And these are normal emotions, so stop judging me.

Then we came to the main building and it was...Okay, listen, we Poggies are kind of trampy for beautiful old buildings against beautiful old nature. Sure, we love nature against just nature more but, dangit, LOOK at this!

And this!

Delight.

Guru gave us an option of either touring a Hindu temple or a Sikh temple. Since Mary had spent some time learning about the wonderful world of Krishna and since our next destination, Rishikesh, is mostly of Hindu influence, we took this opportunity to check out the Sikh temple. And, as it turned out, Guru himself was Sikh, so he took us on a personal tour. We first stopped and dropped off our shoes at the visitors office and received our head coverings, then washed our hands at a small fountain before making our way to this gorgeous site:

We couldn't take photos inside, but I can tell you that it was remarkable. So many wonderful colors and at the center of it all was a shrine where devotees came to worship and give offerings. Guru invited us to sit with the praying folk, and we were happy to have a moment to sit in silence and take it all in. We are always so humbled by the spiritual devotion of others and it was wonderful to be in the presence of it.

Did that sound corny? It did, didn't it? Eh, what can you do.

Afterward, Guru offered us some "Holy Sweet." Mary, who is slowly going deaf (also, insane), didn't hear him, took a 50/50 shot and accidentally turned it down. Mike accepted and said it was tasty. It was a sugary substance of some kind, hence the name. He also took us to the pools where people bathe before going into the temple so that they don't enter unclean. It was really quite lovely.

Look at these nerds, trying to fit in.

Nice try, nerds.

Guru also took us down to the kitchens, where workers prepare food for anyone who wants to come and have a meal.

There were giant machine churning out roti bread and gigantic pots simmering with deliciousness. He showed us the big empty room where, later that evening, people would gather and take part is this free feast. Awesome.

Soon it was time to say goodbye to our buddy Guru. He dropped us at our hotel and gave us very strict instructions about staying safe in India and not getting scammed. He told us that we were his friends and that he did not want people taking advantage of our white faces. He was VERY concerned about our white faces.

At this point we realized that, save for a mango popsicle, we had not eaten all day long and, famished, we staggered into a restaurant. We ordered delicious entrees, a tasty appetizer of fried veggies and, of course, extra naan with garlic. The food arrived, our stomachs screamed with joy, and we dug in...and were COMPLETELY FULL after two bites. TWO! Not even a large two bites. If we hadn't just spent the day sweating out all of our bodily fluids, we would have burst into tears.

The next morning we woke at 5am to begin our walk to the train station. Our street was just beginning to wake up as we walked through and we tried to keep from disturbing those without a proper place to sleep as we made our way across walkways made of splintered boards and enormous puddles of trash and waste. It was the only time of our trip that we saw a cat--and we wished that we hadn't. Mike said later that he also wished we'd been able to respectfully photograph that journey, because it was the most jarring and memorable fifteen minutes of the entire trip.

We made it to the train station without incident and then standing there, like a random beacon of light, as we pushed through the arriving crowd, was Guru, holding up a sign for his next tourist charge. We shook hands, he wished us a happy adventure, and we went our seperate ways.

To be continued...

...?

(probably.)