A Glimpse Of Old Delhi

We drove through the (relatively) cleanly streets of New Delhi and progressed into Old Delhi, where our hotel was located. Old Delhi is, as you would imagine, older than surrounding areas. The buildings are solid stone structures with simple but classical Indian architecture, though it is sometimes hard to see since the fronts of buildings are often covered by numerous signs. (Some memorable signs from our street in Old Delhi: Hercules, Steel Balls, Solid Steel Balls, looots of bike shops-it was sort of the bike shop street, so. y'know). The road was as wide as the usual two lane road, but it seemed much, much more narrow. On one side of the road large trucks (dump-truck style, and pimped out. they decorate the trucks and rickshaws hardcore), rickshaws (often with their owners asleep on top of them; on our street mostly bicycle rickshaws), and on both sides of the road were stalls, kiosks, tables and rugs on the ground offering wares. It was fabulous.

Even that late/early, there were plenty of people on the street to witness us fall out of the taxis, dragged down by weighty packs and jet-lag. After paying the drivers, we filed down an alley-passing a double door with the famous King Kong scene (King Kong on top of the building, raging at the planes) painted onto it-and turned left, through the glass door of our hotel and into the lobby. The lobby was small, but still very nice, with a computer, television, front desk and even a lift! The old school sort, with the metal cage behind the wood door, and then the lift. The hotel had three floors, all tiled, and the roof. After rooms had been sorted out, and luggage thrown into the respective rooms, we split into two groups: the total nerds, who stayed to wash up and sleep; and the adventurers, who went on a little walk about Old Delhi.

We walked down the alley in the opposite direction we had come from, and ended up on a wider street where vendors and merchants were already setting up shop for the early crowd. We passed fruit stands, carpet sellers, and people frying up some breakfasts. As we were passing rickshaws parked on the side of the road (already hassling us, wanting to give us rides-one dude even followed us along for quite a while) about to turn onto the main road that the Red Fort was on, a young boy (maybe 10 or 12) came up to us, begging for money purportedly for chai. This claim caused Eric to question the boy "someone wanna buy this kid some chai? here, oh yeah, where's your chai? what chai you gunna buy? take us to the chai, we'll buy it you some." And with that Alex grabbed the kids hand, and he took us back the way we came, (not all the way of course) turning left into a little enclave of a community. Here, there were few shanty houses-just blankets on benches or the ground, people lined up, as the phrase goes, like sardines, on the ground. Sometimes there was a blanket strung up to create a barrier. I don't know how far the scene went, as it was very dark, but to the edge of my vision was this sorry sight.

The little boy had led us to a table where a man was boiling water, surrounded by a few men having a chat before work began. Eric ordered chai for anyone who wanted some, feeling generous since it was five rupees a cup (appx. 10 cents). I took him up on the offer, and oh am I glad. It was the most delicious drink I've ever had, legitimately. I scalded my fingertips as I held the cheap plastic cup, and my taste buds were burnt beyond tasting for the next few hours, but that chai was the best chai I had the entire trip. By the time everyone who wanted chai had some, our small group was completely surrounded. (Entirely by men, by the way). Hillary was sitting on a bench in front of the chai table and two men sat next to her, requesting photos. We were being pressed in upon by all sides, but mostly it was innocent curiosity. Eric made two 'best friends,' who spoke absolutely three words of english max, and we all had a lovely time. On our way back to the hotel we got sort of creepered on, but no worries. Then Cecily, Eric and I made our way up the third floor and went to bed.

If I die young, fill my empty room with the sun ~ Empty Room by Marjorie Fair