To make up for all that wholesome culture last weekend, I decided to hit the mall.

The Great India Place

This is not the biggest mall in the National Capital Region according to my co-workers, but it is close. It is one large freaking mall. I walked for at least an hour and I don’t think I saw it all. (The National Capital Region basically includes Delhi and its suburbs.) There were more clothing stores than anything, almost as many for men as for women, which was one surprise, gift shops, restaurants, ice cream stands that no one ever seems to be patronizing, a Hallmark store (with Valentine’s Day Cards still on special), mobile phone stores, coffee shops, shoe stores, and even a place to buy a washing machine. I mention the ice cream stands because several books I have read advise against eating ice cream here (due to the likelihood that it has melted and refrozen with all the power outages) but I see it for sale everywhere. The funny thing is, I have yet to see a single Indian person actually eating any of it. The Baskin Robbins’ stands are empty. I see plenty of Indians eating soft serve, though.

As I strolled, I pondered how people on reputed meager Indian salaries afford to shop at this shiny and clean four-story (!) mecca of consumerism. The prices appeared mostly comparable with back home. I bought a book for $10. My chai latte was about $2.50. I did get some clothes on discount – three pairs of pants and a dress thing (a kurta) for about $20 at a place that reminded me of the clothes section of Target except with more patterns and more intimidation (self-imposed. I don’t even like clothes shopping back home… now I have to worry I bought a pattern that only grandmothers wear.) I’m not going to tell you how much I spent at the Nokia store.

A Little Bit of Boulder in The GIP
(Boulder Prices, too.)

The GIP, besides being a handy acronym to tell autorickshaw drivers, is in Sector 18. Noida is divided into Sectors and Blocks which seems vaguely dystopian, but is one way to organize a city. I work in Sector 62 on the northern border with Ghaziabad. For Google-Earth-philes such as myself, it is very interesting to compare the spread-out-business-park style of Sector 62 to the extremely twisty, crowded “Colony” inhabiting Sector 62A right next door. (The rest of the Sectors fall somewhere in between. Lots of multi-storey apartment complexes.) Anyway, Sector 18 is south of that, along the river on the metro line and is the primary commercial enclave of Noida.

Crossing to Sector 18
Noida

After I’d had enough of the mall, I headed toward the footbridge over the street toward Sector 18 proper. I was approached by two young people holding flowers (either to sell or as decoration on their collecting tins, I couldn’t tell.) I have so far made a point of not giving any street people money, for one because it likely it won’t even go to them, but to their beggar gang leader or whatever. The various books I read touch on this one way or another. One recommended only giving to elderly women since they were probably kicked out of their home when their husband died. Children and cripples are more often being used by more organized forces. I know none of this for sure. But the author of Delirious Delhi made an interesting suggestion to compromise. He said to carry candy, dried fruit, chocolates, or the like with you and give them that when they ask. That way, if you really are being accosted by a starving child, then your conscience is sated somewhat. (And if they aren’t interested in your snack and just want money, then you’ll know for sure that something is afoot.) I decided to take this advice and brought along a small supply. I gave the kids each a pre-wrapped piece of candy. They wanted either more or money instead, but did not press me too much after I side-stepped them for the second time.

Golden Arches in Sector 18

I went to lunch at a place called “Punjabi By Nature” which got pretty good reviews on Google. It’s about two doors down from McDonalds in that picture; you can see the word Punjabi on the sign. Incidentally, I walked into the McDonalds later out of curiosity. No joke, the first thing on the menu is a “McVeggie” and the equivalent of the Big Mac has chicken patties. Anyway, as I was passing the McDonalds, a little girl came up to me with her hand out. I had one last piece of candy (I had, to my own surprise, used the entire supply I brought), so I gave it to her. Then I had lunch.

You know when I said that meal I had at “Chicken” last week would probably be my most expensive lunch here. Nope, broke that record! I had garlic naan, lentil curry, and a lassi. Hit twenty bucks no problem by myself. The service was excellent, though. (I had been worried that, being a single woman, I might be somewhat ignored, but this was not the case here… though it was not very crowded either.) The food was decent enough – I liked the other place a little better – but the serving size was too big. Those were some giant triangles of naan! They wrapped it up for me, I remembered to tip 10%, and was on my way.

More of Sector 18

Passing McDonalds again, suddenly I hear “candy, candy.” (Not “money, money.”) I felt kind of bad because I had no more pieces left. I said “I’m out of candy, but I have some naan” and gave my tinfoil-wrapped leftover naan to the closest girl, no idea if she wanted it or not. It kind of looked like a family was around me at this point, just standing there though, not being particularly intimidating or touching me at all. A mother and baby were part of the various-aged group of four or five anyway. An older boy pointed to my bag with my leftover curry. I was all too happy to part with my leftovers if someone actually was hungry enough to ask for it. There can’t possibly be a leftover food gangster ring, right? They didn’t ask for anything more, didn’t ask about my other bag (which was carrying the book and clothes I bought at the mall), and didn’t follow as I went on my way. It’s kind of a nice feeling to know I might have actually helped a family in need get a hot meal.

On my way back, I tried the Ladies Car for the first time. The first car of every metro is for women only. Aside from the safety factor (not that I’ve felt unsafe in the other cars yet), it is generally less crowded, which is worth it in itself. I saw Tokyo-style crowds again this afternoon, though it seems to vary by train.

The Metro

Not sure if all the auto drivers from Vaishali are creeps or what, though there was an article in the paper that they increased the female police officers at Vaishali station for that reason. The one that drove me this time offered me the highest first price yet (100 rupees) for what I’ve been paying 40-50 rupees for. His peeps (not sure why the auto drivers have peeps… but it seems like there are always three to five people negotiating one fare) included one older man who agreed pretty quickly to go down to fifty. My driver looked about eighteen and tried to get my attention after I stepped out (I stepped out early because I needed to go food shopping and he didn’t know where he was going anyway, but I paid him the requisite 50.) Not sure if he was looking for a tip or trying to hit on me or what (dude, I’m practically old enough to be the guy’s mother) but he gave up pretty quickly. Glad I have the “I’m white, I don’t understand Hindi” excuse.

Ah ha! There are two types of Tropicana! The junk, which has a fun variety of flavors like the above but is basically sugar water (better than HFCS water?) with a smidgeon of juice, and the 100% juice stuff with less fun flavors, but is actual juice. And, look it is not expired after all! I forgot I need to read the dates day-month-year. Supermarket woes you probably didn’t care about, but look, lychee-flavored juice.