To Delhi or not to Delhi

Third? Day in India. At least, I think it is. Nice thing about being on a vacation--ahem, I mean volunteering--is that one loses track of days as quickly as on the river. Speaking of which, many things here remind me of those river days. The heat, the sun setting and rising, dictating the day, and drinking only filtered water are a few. There are other reminders that I am hesitant to compare to my river time, such as watching locals living in slums cook over a fire outdoors, or working late into the dark because the day is too hot. This is a hard thing to say, however, as the two situations are much different. In the states, people pay to be able to sleep outside. Here, people have no other option. It's like pointing out the scenery to a man doing hard labor in the mountains--the aesthetics don't strike him as the most important part of his day.

The frequent power outages, touts and rickshaws, however, serve as reminders that I am not back home. When the power switches off, in the entire apartment complex in which the hostel is located, the absence of the whirling ceiling fans is felt within a few seconds. Heat is not far from the door.

Orientation began yesterday, and after the brief history of India, we began to learn basic Hindi. Sitting in a 80 degree living room above Gurgaon--a city a few km south of Delhi--trying to concentrate is a bit harder than comfortably learning in a classroom. Our attention drifts quickly, to the dismay of our instructor/hostel owner/program coordinator. Orientation week so far is going well--the emphasis being more on travel than service. I am curious to see how this changes in our attitudes when we arrive next Tuesday to our projects.

Tomorrow we travel to Delhi, and again on Thursday for sight seeing. I am preparing myself mentally for the adventure. However, I am eager to head North and escape the heat as much as I can. The amount of sweat that has poured out of my body in these last few days is monumental. As if the locals needed another signpost of my foreign-ness, aside from the pale skin, funny clothes, gaping looks, cameras pointed everywhere, and lack of communication, I also appear drenched in sweat everywhere I go, whereas they remain oblivious to the heat.

Namaste.