How very Delhightful.

We all know about the inequality gap between rich and poor in big cities like Delhi. We’ve all heard about the women washing themselves in stagnant black rivers next to the marble floored A/C malls, the overflowing slums clustering behind the 5*hotels, the scruffy wild-haired railway kids sat on the same pavements as the chubby toddlers dressed in four too many shades of denim and an overload of charcoal eye-liner. We’ve all seen Slumdog Millionaire. So I’ve decided not to write a blog about that.

Instead, I want to cover how this city revealed to me the often little discussed pleasant surprises.

Smog-filled, deafening hoards of hectic traffic? Not always; just alongside the busy roads and tooting tuk-tuks frequently lie green parks and leafy districts. Even the parliamentary buildings are heralded by grand open boulevards and grassy banks, where the hose pipes are left running, turning the lawns into saturated ponds –a cityesque paddy field. The striking Lotus Temple is surrounded by a huge park of winding pathways. This is where families picnic, vendors roast snacks, super sweet chipmunk type rodents dart all over the shop, and kids of all ages play cricket barefoot. Yes the grass may be brown and prickly underfoot and it’s not exactly Kew Gardens, but it is a traffic-free open space and it’s open for all. Throughout the city free cultural events are held year round, offering a buzzing nightlife that transcends societal hierarchies. I even came across a Zorb on a lake (think human-sized hamster ball in a bathtub). Social recreation -well mainly cricket as they’d argue here- is healthy for everybody, no matter how poor you may be.

Archaic, rusty public transport teeming with the overpopulation of an overflowing capital? Think again. I easily found a seat on every bus (air conditioned and shiny new) and not once a sweaty face-pushed-in-wet-armpit moment. There’s even a hop-on-hop-off sightseeing bus that gives you onboard entertainment (interactive screens in your seat not Bollywood dirge) and it’s all advertised on a colourful pamphlet with not one grammatical error. Moreover, I have never come across such socially conscious buses in my life! I stifled a chuckle when I sat on the regular city bus and read (from the swish LED messaging screen I hasten to add) that toll-free ‘bus helplines’ are available for the following:
-OAPs
-Ladies
-Students
I mean, that’s quite a privilege isn’t it? A bus helpline just for students? What are they going to do, call up for some help to solve that convoluted mathematical equation?
It gets better too, because then I tasted the underground. Delhi’s modern, immaculate and punctual service irrefutably beats London’s underground, Paris’s metro and Berlin’s U-Bahn. No litter? India? Sleek, silent and spotless. Not even the trace of a cemented-in chewing gum stain. What is this, Tokyo? To top it all, like the buses it’s cheap as chips, making the underground an accessible option to those who can afford to get across the city for a modest 20p…good work Delhi.

Hmmm, perhaps I should work for their travel bureau.

Dark, dodgy districts Old Delhi? Chance had it that I explored this quarter by night. I’d been warned about this part of the city especially after dark, but armed with a French girl who was recovering from a new love left in Nepal, we witnessed its street’s exciting nocturnal hustle; lights hanging under doorframes illumining the nighttime craftsmen, red-teethed old babas chewing beetel nut, pot-bellied merchants weighing out bread flour, odd bemused smiles when we attempted to extract directions. And the best cuppa chai so far. Hubbub atmosphere, not hassle or danger. Old Delhi was business as usual.
Hand-led across the road by a small boy, we eventually found the Red Fort - a huge piece of fairy-tale imagery set against the starry sky. Our greatest danger? Turning into frozen rabbits, mid-road, when caught by the unpredictable character and fitful speeds of oncoming headlights. Nonetheless, these heart-in-mouth hesitations that we experienced as we were careered towards by an endless throng of cars, motorbikes, tuk-tuks, cycles and cows only served to make us squeal with fear come delight as we successfully traversed to the other side, breathless and triumphant at our survival.

Tuk-tuks, buses and taxis belching out environmentally blackening pollutants? Nope! When it was decided that something drastic had to be done about the city’s growing pollution problem, all public transport (here she goes again) was switched to CNG –Compressed Natural Gas. The air quality has dramatically improved as a result and it’s definitely noticeable. As a personal testimony to this, for once I didn’t develop allergy congested sinuses like I tend to in most polluted cities, especially in Mumbai and Taipei. Must be all those leafy districts. And the thousands of rickshaw pullers that can’t afford to buy a motor…
Seriously though, seeing adverts pasted in the railway stations promoting solar as both an environmentally and economically logical solution made me think “Delhi’s progressing. No...Delhi’s progressive”.

So what didn’t I enjoy? Staying in a posh hotel very much. I hate the superfluous daily towel changes and the puffing up of my pillows when I’m not there and the way the staff stand over your shoulder, observing as I chomp on my dosa, bowl of granola and fruit platter with curd. I know I can’t be held down at a breakfast buffet, but I’d rather you didn’t make a point of making me notice.

Nonetheless I hope I have shared with you a little of what most don’t relate to Delhi: the positive stuff*. However, I still managed to leave Delhi with niggling personal sense of unrest: this little lapse of free time had entirely refueled my desire to explore the rest of the country I have yet to see. Mcleod Ganj, Kashmir, Darjeeling, Sikkim, Ladakh, Manali. I have everything I need: visa, camera, cash, music, SPF, bike, panniers and padded shorts. How could I be so close to these places yet be headed straight off in the opposite direction, quite so soon? And to stay put! It seems I had momentarily lost sight of my purpose in being here at all, perhaps almost as much as you have?

Next up: Worklife on the Orissa flood response.
                               Best not expect an entry quite so chirpy…

* Of course the bad stuff still goes on, the inequality gap is very real (and growing), and admittedly I did slag off my posh hotel eventually.