The sun has set on the first day of my voyage, and I feel strangely at home. The chaotic sounds and smells of India fill me with a sense of freedom and adventure. Arriving by plane early this morning, today I wandered Delhi on foot, moto-rickshaw, bus, metro, bicycle rickshaw, hired car and taxi with my loving hosts Jessie and Tashi.
My basic Hindi is still useless, but the language - like the bustling, winding alleys of the backpackers' mecca that is my temporary neighborhood - is very close to my experience years ago with Nica in Kathmandu.
The food! My stomach may be secretly planning future revolt, but my tongue is in ecstacy! For less than a happy hour Manhattan I have eaten a day's fill of the most glorious Indian foods, and I know I have barely scratched the surface.
On our way from an ashram in the south, we questioned the value of giving money to a beggar who was holding a child with hands so badly burnt they looked like osso bucco. Some first aid and bandages were in order, but the man seemed content to cash in on the financial possibilities those puffed, charred paws gave him if visible to the public. The beggar pimps of A Fine Balance and Slumdog Millionaire prepared me for this reality, but my mind is still struggling with moral dilemma.
The constant vehicle horns of India hold their own language. I will need to unlock the secrets of this language if I am to enjoy riding in this country.
So tired - I must stay up a couple more hours if I am to defeat the jet lag of flying to a time zone 10 1/2 hours away from San Francisco... a half hour of shopping, then I get to come back and rest.
Love you all, Berg