Change In Plans

Greetings from Delhi.  Several months into traveling as a family, this short post is an answer to the question “how are you doing?”

Before I answer, a quick update.  It took eleven hours for us to drive and fly from Bhandavgarh National Park back to Delhi, but we are delighted to be here.  The weather was gorgeous when we landed: cool and sunny, with blue skies and very clear air.  If it had been like this on the day of our first arrival, my initial impressions would have been more positive than they were. A mini lesson for me on jumping to conclusions.  

We have seen and done so much in the last three weeks that it seems like months, instead of weeks, since we were last here.  Zola and I went for a walk in the streets before dinner, and we were both surprised at how accustomed we have become to the crowds and the noise and the controlled chaos of India.

Several people have asked us by e-mail recently, “how are you doing?”  In a few cases, this was loving grandmotherly worry about grandchildren, but more generally friends and family were interested in how our health has been, how we were feeling, and how we were getting along with each other in a 24/7 famiy environment.

Everyone’s health has been great thus far (knock wood).  We are all physically tired from waking up at 5:30 am or earlier for six of the last seven days, and I think we are all a little emotionally tired from the sensory stimulus of being in India.  I was as sick as a proverbial dog for a couple of days while we were at the Pushkar Camel Festival, but only in the uninteresting sense that I had a cold and a cough.  All of our stomachs have been generally fine.  I may be one of the rare few people who gets measurably fatter while traveling in India: Indian food is great.  Zola has lost almost eight pounds, but this is due to his still picky (although much more adventurous than six months ago) eating habits, rather than any kind of GI distress.

We continue to feel a little overwhelmed by India, but have enjoyed our time here enormously.  It has been exotic and enriching, frequently beautiful, and always interesting.  

Zola has loved the glamour of the palaces and forts, and really enjoyed the tigers.  He has also been devouring books about Indian mythology (e.g., “Children’s Stories of Shiva the Destroyer”).  In our months of travel, his confidence and poise have come back in a way that we did not expect.  Even our homeschooling sessions have gotten dramatically better. 

Tallulah seems to be internalizing a lot of what we are seeing and doing.  In the five months since we left for Ireland on the first phase of this trip, she has grown up so much.  She gave up her imaginary friends in North Vaisa while we were in the U.S. in October, and now she gets cross with us if we mention it.  She is a happy and self-directed and opinionated and sweet (and increasingly mischievous) little person.  She has also figured out the core younger-sibling skill of getting on her brother’s nerves, when she wants to.  

Both kids have somehow become really good travelers.  We are routinely getting through five and six-hour car trips, or 12-hour flights,  without arguments, without roughhousing, and without drama. This has been a huge blessing, for us and for our fellow passengers. 

India (the person) was as happy as I have ever seen her when we were at the camel festival, and when we were tracking tigers.  All of our days in India (the place) have brought together many of the things that she loves most: being with family, traveling off the beaten path, being outdoors, meeting interesting people, looking at animals, and taking photos.  If she could run a little more frequently, and do some work which was helping people, particularly kids, she would have found perfection.

Generally speaking, I am always the most grumpy and maladjusted in our little group.  In India, though, I have been incredibly happy and relaxed.  Some of this happiness has come from getting into the rhythm of traveling together, releasing my hold on the professional world for a while, and embracing my role as Dad and travel companion.  This means holding Tallulah for hours as she sleeps and we drive around looking for tigers, and playing elaborate board games with Zola in the afternoon.  Some of the happiness is also from being here, and having my intellect and all five senses overstimulated all of the time.  Regardless of the reasons, it has been great, and has made me feel closer to my wife and to my kids than I have ever felt.

So, in answer to the question “how are you doing?” I think we are doing very well.  Thanks for asking.  India has been a wonderful part of our trip.  We look forward to our last week here, leaving for Agra tomorrow, and to Nepal beyond that.

This short post is about our first full day in Delhi, India.

After watching election returns all morning, we went out to explore a very little bit of Delhi.  Even in a few short hours, some of my negative preconceptions were challenged by direct observation.  My overarching belief that India is a vibrant, emerging economic powerhouse was strongly reinforced.

Based on a lifetime of hearing travel horror stories, my uninformed expectation was that the street corners of Delhi would be filled with beggars.  I expected that we would be traumatized by the sight of leprous stumps and sadly deformed children pressed into view on the glass of our car windows.  

In reality, we did see a small number of people begging, and they rapped insistently on the windows at long stoplights.  But it was a very small number, and they didn’t look unhealthy or malnourished.  Our guide strongly discouraged us from giving money out the window, suggesting several non-profits that we could donate to which help poor Delhites.  Thankfully, our kids seemed to understand, and were OK ignoring the rapped appeals.  Zola did see someone defecating on the sidewalk as we drove past, and this seemed to really shake him up for a while. 

Our first stop was the giant Red Mosque.  Unlike most of the mosques we saw in Morocco and Turkey, this was wide open to anyone willing to take off their shoes, Muslims and non-Muslims alike.  We walked past a big pile of slippers and sandals (most of the sandals were Ecco brand, indicating American tourists between ages 50-70).

The mosque was built in six years, starting in 1650, and is austere and huge and beautiful.  The red sandstone walls are inlaid with white marble in simple repeating patterns.  The minarets and the onion-shaped domes are uncomplicated, and they harmonize Arabic and Hindu architectural styles.  The big outdoor square of the mosque, and the flights of stairs leading up to it, are all marked off with white lines.  On busy days, this mosque attracts up to 20,000 worshipers, and the grid markings help to organize people into orderly lines.  

Market streets of Old Delhi

After the mosque, we took an hour-long tour through the market streets of Old Delhi by bicycle rickshaw.  Somehow all four of us squeezed into the seat, with Zola facing backward.  The streets of the market district are very narrow (10-12 feet wide) and crowded.  The river of pedestrians and rickshaw traffic (with the occasional scooter or small vehicle thrown in) flowed quickly and with great purpose.  Occasionally, at an intersection or bend, the flow would stop momentarily, then sort itself out and press onward. The spectacle was intense, but exciting.  Unlike the medina of Fes , which was crowded, but had little economic activity and only limited ambling movement, the shops and streets of the Delhi market area were bursting with high-speed commerce and motion.  Most shops were filled with customers, and every person on the street seemed to be rushing to make a delivery or accomplish some errand.  

Overhead, the three-story buildings, made of all conceivable materials, created a canyon criss-crossed with dozens of electrical and telephone wires.  We saw a small monkey dance across the wires above our heads.

As he rode along, facing backward, Zola kept up a running commentary about what he was seeing, and how crazy and exciting it all seemed.  Tallulah mostly stood on my lap, delighting in the glory of it all.  As in many of the countries we have visited thus far, Tallulah’s blonde hair attracted a lot of comment and attention.  A group of young boys ran alongside us for a while, snapping her picture and pointing to their own heads.

We all felt exhilarated and pleasantly overwhelmed by what we saw on the rickshaw tour.  I was surprised that only about 15% of Delhi’s population lives or works in Old Delhi.  85% of the city lives in more modern conditions whether tenement, apartment, mansion or suburb. 

We finished our afternoon by walking around the ministry buildings and the Presidential Palace.  These buildings were designed in 1911 to house the British colonial offices. They looked as if a mustachioed Edwardian might emerge at any moment to ask for a gin and quinine water (or some Grey Poupon).  

The sunset was spectacular, and we looked down the long-straight Rajput walk at the Gate of India, shimmering in the haze.

This evening, we had dinner with a professor of modern Indian history. Both kids, still on Japanese time, slept soundly through dinner. Professor Sethi was wonderful, genteel company, and he provided thoughtful, learned answers to all of our rookie questions.    My head is now spinning with facts about independence and partition, and with his detailed observations about the caste system and about contemporary Indian society.  The power failed three times during dinner, creating an awkward silence in the restaurant for 10-15 seconds, until the generators switched on.

We are excited to go out and to continue exploring.  I can’t believe I have lived more than 40 years without spending time in this spectacular country.  On to Jaipur.

This post is about out trip from Kyoto to Delhi, our first impressions of Delhi, and some thoughts on the opportunity cost of this travel year.

After a 16-hour travel day, we landed in Delhi just before sunset last night.  Our kids are getting quite good at long flights, and the whole day passed essentially without drama.

Flying into Delhi, I was a little surprised to see a thick, almost viscous, layer of smog covering the city for miles in all directions.  Once we got out of the airport, I saw that the smog is so thick that it dims the outlines of buildings, creates halos around the streetlights, and visibly moves and swirls with the air currents. It is a travel cliche to comment on air quality in Indian cities, but it definitely makes a strong first impression.  Apparently the air is much better than it was a few years ago (before the city switched from diesel to CNG buses), and is much better in November than it is during the winter.  Also, the evening rush hour is the worst time of day.  Literally breathtaking.  I think we will probably get used to it in a day or so.

Our guide, Indrajit, picked us up at the airport, and we battled the rush hour traffic into the center of the city.  Stating the obvious, Delhi is colossally big and crowded, so the 20-kilometer drive took over an hour.  Indrajit is young, and seems very intelligent and well educated.  His command of the facts as we asked our basic “welcome to India” questions was impressive.  More impressive were his well informed and clearly articulated opinions on lots of global topics, particularly the U.S. elections.  The combination of our stimulating discussion with Indrajit, who embodies the positive Indian stereotype of the young urban knowledge worker, and the freewheeling chaos of Delhi’s rush hour, reinforced the impression that India is absolutely bursting with vibrancy and economic growth.  The energy is almost visible and tangible (like the air).

Zola and I went out for a walk just after dawn this morning.  After the cleanliness and order of Japan, he was a little freaked out by the grime and chaos of Delhi’s streets.  We saw dozens of people waking up from their streetside campsites, and many more having breakfast at small stands.  Full buses roared past us, and thousands of pedestrians rushed everywhere.  Definitely not in Kansas anymore.

We are looking forward to our month in India.  We will take it easy today, seeing some sights in the afternoon, having dinner with an Indian history professor.  We leave for Jaipur tomorrow morning.  So much to see and do.

On a separate tack, three pieces of news within the last 24 hours have focused my thinking on the opportunity cost of this time I am taking to travel with my family. 

First, CNN has just projected Barack Obama as the winner of the Presidential election (two minutes ago).  Tremendously exciting and relieving.  That said, a man my age (roughly) getting elected President makes me feel like I have been slacking off.  It makes me wonder what I would be doing today (and next year) if I had just joined the Obama campaign full time in May.  

Second, also very exciting, a long-time (younger) friend sent me an e-mail, letting me know that he has gotten an enormous promotion.  I am thrilled for him, and know he will do a tremendous job.  The news also makes me acutely aware that I am spinning my wheels professionally for this year, while the rest of the world moves on.  I have no regrets, and I’m not sure where the wheels would be taking me if I had traction, but it focuses the mind.

Third, and very sadly, I found out that a friend who was a classmate from business school and a colleague at McKinsey died suddenly over the weekend.  He was also couple of years younger than me, and was a charismatic, seemingly joyous, and hugely talented man.  Like me, he has (had) two small children who he loved.  Life is short.

We are going to play the will.i.am “Yes We Can” video a couple of times, watch the concession and victory speeches, and then go out to explore Delhi.