Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Breakfast
I brought 50rs with me when Gamar picked me up for my run. Granola and soy milk was getting old for breakfast. I wanted something different! After my run he took me to street vendor to have 'poha'. It was unlike anything I've had and it was absolutely delicious! Little spicy, similar flavor and color to pad thai and lime juice is squirted on top of it. I might I invited myself to some illness. Time will tell, but the food was so damn good. Three plates (two for me and one for Gamar) was 21rs (or a little less than $0.50).
Apartment photos
Pictures of my pad and views from the balconies.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2325939&l=2bafd&id=14835439
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2325939&l=2bafd&id=14835439
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
Running in the Park
...is not quite what I expected. I was told that running in the park is safest place to run outside of a health club. Running early morning is best because there is the least amount of people there. Ok, makes sense. Then I find out I need to have my driver, Gamar, take me there. So I had to call Gamar at 7am this morning to take me. Yesterday I found out there is a lake at the park you run around and it'a about 1.5km around (or about a mile).
This morning I'm thinking I'm going to run three laps. So I didn't even bother to start my watch when Gamar dropped me off because I already had it in my mind that I'm going for distance. The lap, in reality, is maybe 1/4 to a 1/3 of a mile. After I did my 3 laps in about 10mins (I'm ended up timing it by the number of songs that played on my ipod), I decided I needed to run another three laps.
The park was VERY crowded at 7am. Shocking to me was that everyone was there to exercise. Mostly everyone was walking laps, like Grandpa did in the mall. A few small groups were scattered around doing yoga. I felt like joining in. A few people were running and some were running the opposite direction that I was going. Excellent, now I can race them. I did my best to maintain foreign relations by showing my running competitors how much better and faster I was than them :)
As for the "lake", it was a step from a retention pond but it really reminded me of rock corry in Elmhurst. There was enough water in it so I couldn't see the bottom but it hardly looked filled. And the running path was dirt.
This morning I'm thinking I'm going to run three laps. So I didn't even bother to start my watch when Gamar dropped me off because I already had it in my mind that I'm going for distance. The lap, in reality, is maybe 1/4 to a 1/3 of a mile. After I did my 3 laps in about 10mins (I'm ended up timing it by the number of songs that played on my ipod), I decided I needed to run another three laps.
The park was VERY crowded at 7am. Shocking to me was that everyone was there to exercise. Mostly everyone was walking laps, like Grandpa did in the mall. A few small groups were scattered around doing yoga. I felt like joining in. A few people were running and some were running the opposite direction that I was going. Excellent, now I can race them. I did my best to maintain foreign relations by showing my running competitors how much better and faster I was than them :)
As for the "lake", it was a step from a retention pond but it really reminded me of rock corry in Elmhurst. There was enough water in it so I couldn't see the bottom but it hardly looked filled. And the running path was dirt.
My day in Delhi
I asked the front desk at the Ashok to have a driver take me around Delhi for 4 hours. We left at 10am and I had to be back by 2 to get ready for the airport. While I was speaking to the front desk, another American approached me and asked if he could join. His tour group was going on a longer tour that day and he didn't want to be for so long. He offered to split the cost, so it was fine by me. The ride would cost us 1000 rupees total ($10/person).
Our tour only took us to New Delhi. To visit the old city would have taken a better part of the day simply to travel there and back, so there wasn't enough time budgeted. We asked the driver to take us around and show us the sights, whatever that meant. My travel partner's name is Gene. He is about 50 years old and from Oregon. He is an ER doctor and is in India for a medical conference about adventure medicine.
Gene immediately needs to instruct the driver that we are in no hurry so he doesn't need to drive quite so crazy. Driving in India is only possible because of the size of their little cars and bikes. Lane markers have no meaning, turn signals aren't used, traffic signals are obeyed but they are rarely found, their horns are used plenty...beep beep - I'm coming up behind you, beep beep - I'm starting to pass you, beep beep - thank you or I'm ready to pass this next person. Gene was looking for his seat belt in the backseat so our drive hops out on the busy road to look for the belt receptacle. Nuts.
The first place we go is the President's house, Rashtrapati Bhavan. We stop and I take some pictures (which are posted in my last post. Pictures of the monkeys, the lion gate, and of me by the cannon.) It's a foggy day so it is difficult to take good shots without the fog hindering the shots. The house...errr, palace is HUGE. I can only see a little bit through the fog and I can see that the palace must be half a mile from the gates.
The next place we drive by are the India Gates. We do not have a chance to stop because it is blocked off, but it is very large and immediately reminds me of the Arc de Triomphe. At this point I sense our driver is struggling to find other places of interest. Fortunately for Gene and myself, we are having a blast riding in the back as our driver expertly navigates the street. Just the busy city life is entertainment enough. Our driver now asks just if we want to go to a stop....
We pass several market places, buying and selling is going on everywhere on the open streets. I'm wondering if we are going to stop somewhere like that. Our car pulls up to a nice building with fine jewelry in the windows. We are at an expensive store. I'm told our driver gets kickbacks from the shop keepers if he takes us to their store and we buy something. Considering it was my first shopping experience, I wanted to get the lay of the land without making any purchases. I have nothing to compare the prices to so I didn't want to pay too much.
Inside the shop I realize it is multilevel and there are several large rooms with lots of sales people to "help" us. The first showroom I think was an instruction room to all the nice things they had to sell. Tapestries hung from the walls with wooden carving, beautiful oriental rugs laid on the floor, glass cases were filled with jewelry, small wooden carved figurines, painted boxes and pieces made of stone and bone.
As I move in to the next room, the selection for each of these items is out of control. Hundreds of every kind of figure are available in every material - wood, stone, metal, ceramics, bone. The prices vary from 200 rupees to 50,000 rupees ($4 to $500) and I couldn't really tell you why other than it appeared to be made of a different material. My salesmen is working very much to get me to buy ANYTHING. Honestly, I was interested in a chess set. It was made from the bone of some animal I never heard of and looked very nice, but no I was not planning on spending $300 my first day in this shop. I look for Gene and I'm told he's downstairs.
I find Gene in the "rug room". Walls are covered from floor to ceiling with rolled up oriental rugs. The salesmen in this rooms begins to unroll a couple rugs, all of which are very beautiful, and describes how they are 600 knots/inch and the wool is from the Kashmir region and it took 3 workers 4 months to make this rug. The size he is showing us measures 12' x 6'. The price is $375. I immediately begin to think how can I bring this home.
Then Gene asks to see the large rugs, the ones that will cover the entire room. Now there is a crew of salesmen and helpers in the "rug room" to assist with anything. 4 rugs are just about immediately are rolled out and stacked on top of each other. Now we are told these rugs took 3 workers for a year and half to make...or 4 and half years for one! The prices included packing and shipping to the United States. All this splendor for only $2700. I walk out of the room and now Gene is explaining to the salesman how he's not allowed to spend this much money without his wife present. The salesman says he should surprise her.
We leave the shop and our driver asks us if we want to go to another store. We say NO. I will finish this post later.
Our tour only took us to New Delhi. To visit the old city would have taken a better part of the day simply to travel there and back, so there wasn't enough time budgeted. We asked the driver to take us around and show us the sights, whatever that meant. My travel partner's name is Gene. He is about 50 years old and from Oregon. He is an ER doctor and is in India for a medical conference about adventure medicine.
Gene immediately needs to instruct the driver that we are in no hurry so he doesn't need to drive quite so crazy. Driving in India is only possible because of the size of their little cars and bikes. Lane markers have no meaning, turn signals aren't used, traffic signals are obeyed but they are rarely found, their horns are used plenty...beep beep - I'm coming up behind you, beep beep - I'm starting to pass you, beep beep - thank you or I'm ready to pass this next person. Gene was looking for his seat belt in the backseat so our drive hops out on the busy road to look for the belt receptacle. Nuts.
The first place we go is the President's house, Rashtrapati Bhavan. We stop and I take some pictures (which are posted in my last post. Pictures of the monkeys, the lion gate, and of me by the cannon.) It's a foggy day so it is difficult to take good shots without the fog hindering the shots. The house...errr, palace is HUGE. I can only see a little bit through the fog and I can see that the palace must be half a mile from the gates.
The next place we drive by are the India Gates. We do not have a chance to stop because it is blocked off, but it is very large and immediately reminds me of the Arc de Triomphe. At this point I sense our driver is struggling to find other places of interest. Fortunately for Gene and myself, we are having a blast riding in the back as our driver expertly navigates the street. Just the busy city life is entertainment enough. Our driver now asks just if we want to go to a stop....
We pass several market places, buying and selling is going on everywhere on the open streets. I'm wondering if we are going to stop somewhere like that. Our car pulls up to a nice building with fine jewelry in the windows. We are at an expensive store. I'm told our driver gets kickbacks from the shop keepers if he takes us to their store and we buy something. Considering it was my first shopping experience, I wanted to get the lay of the land without making any purchases. I have nothing to compare the prices to so I didn't want to pay too much.
Inside the shop I realize it is multilevel and there are several large rooms with lots of sales people to "help" us. The first showroom I think was an instruction room to all the nice things they had to sell. Tapestries hung from the walls with wooden carving, beautiful oriental rugs laid on the floor, glass cases were filled with jewelry, small wooden carved figurines, painted boxes and pieces made of stone and bone.
As I move in to the next room, the selection for each of these items is out of control. Hundreds of every kind of figure are available in every material - wood, stone, metal, ceramics, bone. The prices vary from 200 rupees to 50,000 rupees ($4 to $500) and I couldn't really tell you why other than it appeared to be made of a different material. My salesmen is working very much to get me to buy ANYTHING. Honestly, I was interested in a chess set. It was made from the bone of some animal I never heard of and looked very nice, but no I was not planning on spending $300 my first day in this shop. I look for Gene and I'm told he's downstairs.
I find Gene in the "rug room". Walls are covered from floor to ceiling with rolled up oriental rugs. The salesmen in this rooms begins to unroll a couple rugs, all of which are very beautiful, and describes how they are 600 knots/inch and the wool is from the Kashmir region and it took 3 workers 4 months to make this rug. The size he is showing us measures 12' x 6'. The price is $375. I immediately begin to think how can I bring this home.
Then Gene asks to see the large rugs, the ones that will cover the entire room. Now there is a crew of salesmen and helpers in the "rug room" to assist with anything. 4 rugs are just about immediately are rolled out and stacked on top of each other. Now we are told these rugs took 3 workers for a year and half to make...or 4 and half years for one! The prices included packing and shipping to the United States. All this splendor for only $2700. I walk out of the room and now Gene is explaining to the salesman how he's not allowed to spend this much money without his wife present. The salesman says he should surprise her.
We leave the shop and our driver asks us if we want to go to another store. We say NO. I will finish this post later.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Arriving in Delhi
I arrived in Delhi at 10pm the local time. It was surprisingly foggy. I couldn’t see much of anything from the airplane window. Navigating through the airport was easy enough because everyone was herded from the gate directly to customs. The customs official quizzed me about from family origins because I marked that I was of “Non-Indian Origins”. He insisted to know because my name is half Indian…(Matthew is Indian according to him).
From customs, I was pushed along to the duty free shop. I grabbed a 1000ml bottle of Jack Daniels to “hold me over” but I couldn’t pass up an equal sized bottle of Jameson for $20. I’m not too sure how I am going to travel with this to Ahmadabad. Baggage claim was adjacent to the duty free shop. Carts were plenty and easy to find so it wasn’t a competition to have one. My bags come through the carousel in a timely manner so at least I didn’t have to endure additional stress of waiting too long.
I pushed my cart through the final customs checkpoint. A man collected the stub from my customs form to show that I had gone through the process. I wanted to take some pictures while in the airport but scattered men with assault rifles made me feel like I should wait until later. After the checkpoint, there was a booth to exchange currency. My KJWW guides said to pick up 10s, 20s, 50s, and 100s. They had none, only 500s and 1000s. I decided to wait until the hotel to exchange.
Finally I walked through barricaded path where all the drivers stand with their signs until I found my name “Matthew Kaleta” on a large sign for the Ashok Country Resort. My driver was a short skinny man who looked at least 40 years old and wore an all white suit. He greeted me with a smile and asked how to pronounce my name. I’m used to pronouncing my last name for people, but to explain the pronunciation of my first name was a first. He encouraged me to exchange money at yet another booth and they too were fresh out of the small stuff. Now I feel like they intentionally don’t have small bills to force me to leave a large tip, now I know I am going to hotel for the hotel to exchange.
My driver asks to push my cart and I allow him to. We exit the airport and it quite chilly – about 50 deg F and humid. The fog is somewhat dense and visibility is limited. It makes everything seem much more mysterious. Where we walked out lots of cars and small SUV’s are waiting. The SUV’s look like covered versions of the landscaping Gators and the cars are large but bulbous in shape. They look very cartoonish. None of them look new. All are very old and worn.
Dark sky compliant site lighting must not have made its way to Delhi yet. The area is lit by very tall poles with large clusters of high-pressure sodium fixtures (the kind that create very yellow/orange light). In the fog these glare bombs casts everything in an orange haze. I can’t see farther than 100ft in front of me. My driver and I are walking to his car and it takes us about 5 minutes to get to it. We pass a motorbike parking lot and there must have been a thousand motorbikes tightly parked in that lot.
We reach the car and I decide to let the driver transfer my luggage to the car. I’m curious to see how he handles my big bag (O’Hare weighed it at 66lbs.) The driver manages just fine. I walk over to the side of the vehicle and I receive my first wake up call. I went to the driver’s door, which is usually our passenger door. Oops.
Thankfully the vehicle is a decent sized SUV, equivalent to a Nissan Pathfinder, because the potholes are so bad it feels like we are off roading. In the car, my pronunciation of ‘Ahmadabad’ is corrected (I pronounced Ahm-da-bad, it was corrected to Aim-dabad). Exiting the airport reminded me of leaving a crowded parking lot after a concert. There are no lanes and everyone is going their own way. My driver expertly escapes this area and merges onto the expressway. Here I find that lane markers are not really lanes but suggested guidelines. I particularly enjoyed when a large SUV wanted to pass a motorbike and another SUV that were driving side by side in a 2 lane area and he wailed on his horn and drive right between them. The drive lasted about 10 minutes to the hotel.
The internet availability is spotty and I was only able to send out my email about arriving before it stopped. Today I am going to share a driver with a man from my hotel to sightsee in the new part of the city.
(I wrote this post in Word when internet was not available. These pictures are mostly from my day in Delhi. Descriptions to follow.)
Friday, January 2, 2009
Haven't shaved
I leave today and I haven't shaved since New Year's Eve. My teen-boy Mexi-stache is in full force. Maybe when I arrive in India I'll have a nice full handle bar stache. I will be the macho American cowboy there so it would be fitting. I am not holding my breathe.
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