mamasewingcircus.com

I’ve been here close to 48 hours, though it feels like at least a week. I think it is the constant interaction with people.

As I write this, I’m watching the election results roll in at fivethirtyeight.com and a few men sweeping the busy street below my window. Delhi wakes up at 7, but I’ve been up since 5AM. With as many people as there are, here, it is interesting that there is ever a time when they aren’t all roaming the streets, but apparently the city is still sleepy at 5AM, though not entirely.

Now hours later at the office. The election has been called in Obama’s favor, and I’m breathless. Thankful, but a little bit nervous that this is not reality.

So, about India…
I’ve tired of the interaction with people. Dinner two nights ago, the waiter brought our dinner to the table then served each of us by spooning curry onto our plates. Once he’d spooned what he considered enough, he retreated 5 steps behind me, where he stood until I depleted the water in my glass and the food on my plate to an unacceptable level, at which point he appeared into view to refill both my glass and my plate before stepping slightly out of view, again. This cycle continued until I retreated to my room and locked the door. There are people here to do everything. There is the man in the office whose job it is to fetch water. A separate man fetches tea. Others man doors. And though I’m a tad less cared for, as there are not 4 people dedicated to my well-being, as there had been in Bangalore, I’m still feeling a little claustrophobic. I would never have survived proper wealth.

We lunched yesterday at a tiny restaurant in Defense Colony. The highlight of the restaurant was the tiny lift that shuttles people directly into the restaurant. The thing is tiny – as in it barely fit 4 rather thin people. Thank god there was no power failure during our ascent or descent. I ate Dal Makhinal and Palak Paneer. And just as I was expecting, they were wonderful. Major learning for the day is that I don’t like kaffir limes which seem to be present in all Rajasthan veggie dishes. I also learned that although it seems intuitive to walk on the sidewalk, after almost being run over, I realized I should probably always walk with the natives, who incidentally were out of harms way walking in the road against parked cars.

Some pictures from my morning commute:
Apparently no longer useful:

Home office:

Commuting to work:

In general, I’m finding Delhi to be more English speaking, more international, and more established than Bangalore. I’m sure some of this is the people with whom we’ve been surrounded, but much of it is the simple fact that Delhi has been an internationally recognized capital of business for thousands of years. But, I’m also noticing a different sad fact – that the poor seem to be much more poor here than in Bangalore. Perhaps the more colorful dress in Bangalore makes the poor appear more affluent or at least happy. How can you be unhappy wrapped in bright saffron and fuschia? I’ll venture that in Bangalore, since money and affluence is close to 10 years old, trickle down economics is happening and actually elevating the lower classes. Suddenly, there are buildings to be built, roads to be constructed, services to be performed for the new affluent, … and all of these services require workforces that didn’t exist before. In Delhi, where there has always been a strong upper class, there has likewise always been well established places for the wealthy to spend their money. There is no great influx of jobs originating from anything other than the subway (which by the way is tres cool). Anyway, I have work to do.