I set my alarm to rise earlier today. This time at breakfast I met a guy I initially thought was British, but I later learned he and his girlfriend were Australian. I’m relieved because I have a higher opinion of the British and didn’t want that opinion to suffer. At first I was impressed that he knew something about Turkmenistan and about the Peace Corps. But then at breakfast he complained to staff that the juice wasn’t fresh squeezed. It’s a budget hotel, borderline hostel. He asked my view on fresh squeezed juice. I said I was grateful to have anything since juice is a luxury in Turkmenistan.
I headed out for Qutb Minar, which is a complex that was built to announce the arrival of Islam to India. It’s a long metro ride from Karol Bagh, so the excursion takes up a good chunk of the day. But it’s worth it. It’s cooler than I thought it would be. Guidebooks only show the tower, but it’s actually an entire complex with many buildings. I wandered around taking lots of pictures and managing to avoid paying the photo fee by stealthily evading the guard who seemed to be walking around collecting. I don’t feel guilty since again, like everywhere else, I paid the foreigner fee to enter.
After Qutb Minar, I took the metro to the National Philatelic Museum. I used to collect foreign stamps as a child so I found it interesting. It’s free to go, so if you’re into stamps at all, I suggest it. Unfortunately there’s no gift shop
where you can buy copies of the many interesting stamps they display. Then I found Connaught Place, a famous
shopping area, and wandered around until I found an ATM, but I still couldn’t get my card to work. I ate at a place in the metro station called Lord of Fries (I’m a sucker for literary puns). No restaurants offer any beef or pork because of the large Hindu and Muslim populations. Most street food booths offer vegetarian fare and some chicken. I had a fried potato patty called Tikka Aloo and fries and a pop called Thumbs Up which I don’t recommend, though the
label is neat and will find its way into my scrapbook.
There’s a worker at the hotel that totally wants me and always asks how my day was and what my plans are for the next day. He asked if I’d been out at night to any of the clubs and offered to take me. I said maybe when my friends
come. I asked him what he recommended from the room service menu and he suggested chicken biryani. You’ll notice I ate a lot of chicken on this trip.
This morning at breakfast the Australian asked if they had brown bread. When they said no, he replied, “No? Just the white, no fiber, clog you up kind?” Then he asked if they had herbal tea. The man who was waiting on him was, I think, a little annoyed because he said, “no, we only have normal tea.” I wanted to laugh and give him a high five. (I mean, when you checked into what is essentially a hostel, did you really expect these things? C’mon, princess.) Shortly after that he asked if there was a place where “poor people shop that sells used junk” so he could maybe find “authentic” Indian things instead of the souvenirs so many Indians make a living crafting and selling. And people say Americans make ugly tourists.
When I exited the temple, the sky was overcast and I had been in India long enough to know that meant it was going to downpour very soon. I prayed it would hold off long enough for me to reach the safety of the metro station.
Just as I climbed the stairs to the platform, the sky exploded and I could watch and videotape under the cover of the platform roof.
I returned to Connaught Place as it’s nicely centrally located and I tried an ATM, this time figuring out what I had been doing wrong. In Nevada, I always withdrew from my savings, but with my Michigan bank I need to withdraw from
checking. (It had been nine months, mind you.) When I tried that, it worked and I finally felt secure enough financially to buy a few souvenirs. I found some camel ornaments, which always excites me because when I had my own apartment in the States, my Christmas tree was decorated entirely with camel ornaments, so I like to add to my collection. I also picked up a journal with a hand painted camel on the front. Yes, I like camels.
Chili chicken for dinner had a real kick to it and I was afraid what it might do to me later, but it turned out alright.
And there was another episode of Spooks on. I can’t believe they killed off Ros. (Well, given the history of the show, I
can.) But there’s still Richard Armitage for eye candy.
Next post: the Taj Mahal and other places where the dead are buried