Contrasts

Time and place are funny things.  When we jumped from Cairo to Delhi, we knew that our seven hours on two flights would not be that bad.  Even arriving at 3:30AM would not be that bad.  We were anticipating horrid air quality, a crush of 1.3 billion people and a country that was rumored to “smell like everything”.  Yes, there was a long line at immigration but beyond that our expectations were a little off.  Warm greetings, fresh breezes and colorful flower necklaces all made us realize that we truly had been transported from our desert oasis to a new and different place.

There was still the presence of a security guard at the YMCA hotel, but instead of the armed para-military type, we found a smiling Sikh in a starched white British-style uniform sporting a festively colored headpiece.  Instead of preventing our entry, he held the door wide and welcomed us to our new home.

We felt immediately at home in New Delhi.  Perhaps it was the traffic (a little more predictable) or the greenery (parks, grass, trees!) or the presence of courting couples, laughing children and people enjoying themselves in public.  Regardless, our tour of New Delhi was quite relaxing.  But as always, things change.

The plan was to take our bus to Jama Masjid a 17^th century mosque built by Shah Jahan but after sitting in traffic three blocks from the mosque for an hour we decided that foot may be superior.  Our guide had us abandon ship and dive headfirst into the chaos that is an Old Delhi street in full glory.  Cycles, cows, people, tuk-tuks, people, cars, vans, people, chickens, vendors all vying for a piece of pavement to get through to their destination.  Now throw in a herd of camera totin’ Americans and we have a circus of delights.  Personally I thought it was a rush.  We ducked and wove and dodged and gagged a little but we made it safely to the steps of the mosque with very little incident.  Whew!

The serenity of the mosque was a pleasant welcome from the street but out of the frying pan back into the fire as we jumped aboard cycle rickshaws to tour the narrow twisting alleys of Chandi Chawk the heart of the Old Delhi marketplace.  We were bathed in a sensory delight of sights (colorful sarees contrasted with filthy streets), smells (fresh fried doughy goodness with “oh God what is that?!?”) and emotions (the thrill of exploration with the guilt of entitlement).

But I think this is what the next phase of our journey is all about: contrasts.  We have the ability to compare (hopefully without judging) our experience in Egypt with our experiences in India.  We can compare traffic, air quality, food, communication and customs.  So far the contrasts are most striking and easy to see.  But as we move forward I anticipate that there will be more similarities and common ground between these very different places.