I flew British Airways. On the flight from Denver to London, we ate curry. On the flight from London to Delhi, we had a fajita. Random. (Though, the main dish on the Delhi flight did increase substantially in spiciness.) That flight also involved the attendant walking through the aisles and spraying insecticide up into the air (!) with some explanation about agriculture. Many of the lights of the city below were flickering. The experience arriving in the middle of the night in the Delhi airport was pleasant; the customs and money changing line was short and the entire interior of the airport is closed to the public. Although this makes it inconvenient to pick someone up, I imagine (and is also confusing as they let just enough people through with signs making it ambiguous as to where one’s party is) it does make it less stressful as you are not hounded by taxi drivers the second you leave the international exit. Incidentally, as I ventured out the final exit and looked for my own driver, I was not really hounded by anyone, though I got some stares.
A hailstorm pounded down as we drove (four of us: me, the driver, a ‘bouncer’, and a co-worker to give directions) the hour to Noida. This was so unusual, I saw it mentioned on the news later. I arrived in my room shortly before 3am, made sure I had internet, checked my email, faffed around on facebook, then finally went to sleep.
My room, I suspect, is luxurious by Indian standards. Internet, a shower with hot water, an air conditioner, cable (dozens of channels), high ceilings. I even saw a wedding party arriving here, so it must be pretty nice. By American wedding-hotel standards, it is serviceable, though maybe a little worn and run down. It should work fine for me. We’ll see how it goes when the weather gets hot or if/when there are issues with the availability of municipal services.
… or if anyone “distrubs” me
My sole view of New Delhi so far has been out the windows of moving vehicles. It looks like I expected based on what I read. Lots of people, check. Rows of hole-in-the-wall shops, check. Chaotic roads shared by all sizes of vehicles and where magically no one gets into an accident, check. Cows, check.
Three car rides (one that had no place to plug in a seat belt) has given me a theory as to why so many drivers honk their horns. It is to kindly spare the drivers in front of them the trouble of looking in their rear-view mirror to see if you are passing. In fact, on several trucks I actually saw “Please Honk” written on the back of them.
My new workplace has a nice energy about it. Busy. Upbeat. Full of friendly people dressed surprisingly casually. But no privacy. There is a food court for the several companies that share the three towers. (I wandered into the wrong two towers first… the problem with people staring is that I don’t know if I’m in the wrong tower or if they are just reeling from the glare on my whiter-than-white face.) At the food court, my new co-workers took me to lunch and I had an Indian pizza which was actually quite tasty.
This evening, I tried the gym, which I get to use free while staying here. I had to walk through the lobby of the building next door where the wedding reception was being set up in order to use the gym, but luckily, I finished before the percussion and band announced the sparkly couple. The drums were awesome. (And finished before my bedtime – even better, as they were essentially right outside my window.) The gym was very nice. High-quality equipment, full of big TVs, blaring techno music, lots of dudes lifting weights, and a long list of rules that included, I’m not making this up:
‘Frequently use “Sports Deodorant” during workout.’
Glad I packed all that deodorant!