Monday in Old and New Delhi - Per Sandwich
It's Monday, I think, in Delhi (OLD Delhi)
Our plane landed on schedule (half hour late since we took off late). Leslie, "Have I been to this new Delhi airport?" That's how fried she is. I told her yes, three days ago.
She took Naveen to the bathroom (surprise!) and by the time they met me, I had the bags on the trolley. Our driver was (still!) waiting for us and had NO English! He was um, a little scruffy-looking. Or maybe it was his 70s style shirt. This worried Leslie regarding the size of the car. (scruffy driver = small car?). Well, apparently it does. I knew he'd get it all in, but she was pretty worried. It all fit, lots of it on the seat next to her. The driver was offended that I put my seat belt on in the front seat. "Is not necessary, Madam" uh, thanks, but YOU'RE wearing yours, and in the front seat in India I wear mine. (in the back seat I go Indian style, without one) =:o
The drive was about 45 min. And Leslie dozed, but I can't close my eyes when I'm riding in India unless I'm ready to die from exhaustion. I love watching it way too much!
We arrived at the villa and were met by some porters who spoke very little English (but they were super at hoofing our 50+lb. suitcases up three flights!) and we were beginning to feel worried about this place, the ShamNath Villa.
It is beautiful with large rooms, high ceilings and marble floors, shuttered windows with wood trim and a VERANDA, very colonial, located in Old Delhi in Civil Lines. This was a colonial British area, back in the day.
But the outlets are odd and we couldn't plug anything in, the beds are Indian (like sleeping on a cement slab, Leslie said) and the Internet didn't work in the room, tho we were given the password and login at check-in. It was 11:30 and we felt a little panicked.
Nothing a little Melatonin and a hard-night's (literally) sleep can't fix tho.
In the morning we had masala tea and a nice chat with an Indian army major from Tamil Nadu, and then met our hostess at breakfast. Mrs. Shalini is so, so nice and extremely helpful. She was full of advice about Naveen (some helpful) and speaks excellent English. Hooray for English!
We had fresh juice, watermelon cut by Mrs. Shalini herself (I made Leslie eat it and I ate it too), poha and an Indian omelet. She talked to Naveen in Hindi, some of which he understood. Everyone wants him to come to them, but he sticks tight to Leslie. She did bring out some curd for him, and after adding some sugar to it, got him to chow down two bowls! He was asking for more while waiting for the second bowl.
Also at breakfast was a businessman from Sri Lanka, and when our Tamil major came down in his uniform, I eagerly waited to see their meeting. It was civil, the Sri Lankan more so, with the major vaguely superior, attitude-wise.
At the end of breakfast, Simeon called Leslie and while she was on the phone, Naveen made his usual whining signals for the bathroom, which often just means I don't like this situation, get me out. Only this time it was for real. And Aunty didn't have to clean it up this time. Leslie's plan had been for underwear this morning but she could find them, so resorted to the PullUps. Luckiest break EVER! Naveen, however, was VERY unhappy to have this in his diaper--he probably hasn't in ages--and he cried pitifully for a good 20 minutes even after he was changed and we told him it was ok, he was a good boy. Apparently, when he has to go, he has to go now. He can be dry forever though, and woke up dry this morning.
So after that little adventure, it was time for the car. Mrs. Shalini called a taxi for us (a nice cheap one with natural air conditioning) for only 550 Rs. Plus a 20 Rs. tip. She gave him the directions to the Dr., instructed him to wait and told him where to take us shopping afterward to look for a potty. Naveen is fine to pee on the western toilet, but we thought maybe he'd do better on a floor potty for pooping.
We drove 45 min. through the city, with only one traffic light beggar encounter, to the Max MedCentre. Here Naveen needed an exam in order to get his American visa in his Indian passport. It was the typical get in line, see a clerk, fill out papers, pay the bill, no we do not have change, I will bring. Go to another floor, wait, wait, wait. See the Dr. (he got a TB skin test), take these papers, go back to the first clerk, fill out more papers come back Wed. Yes, Madam, a different time is no problem.
We're scheduled to go back at 11 on Wed. But the Embassy is only open from 9-1:00, so we're going to come at 10 and hope it can be read early.
Another family from the US was there doing their medicals, which Leslie had known they would be (awkward grammar alert). Their 8 year old daughter is from Misram, east of Bangladesh, I think, and I think Leslie said she's the first child from that state to go to the US. A very sweet girl, she gave Naveen a piece of her gum, and another little boy (not adopting) shared his Chips with them both. Thinking back on it now, she (Bella) wouldn't interact with anyone while we all stood there talking, just buried her head in her mother each time anyone tried to engage her (didn't take her chip, even) and the only interaction she made was to come out and offer to Naveen. I wonder if, after observing everyone for the 20 min. or so, she realized he was in the same flippin' predicament she was and she reached out to him in commiseration. And with such a large gesture!
Naveen, naturally, did not enjoy the stick in his arm, but stopped crying fairly quickly. We met up again with Bella and her family downstairs and she was pretty wounded emotionally from the 4 shots she'd received. Poor little thing. They said she actually had a remarkable amount of English, which was good since she only speaks Miso ? And of course there is no one here who can communicate with her.
After the Dr. We went in search of the elusive potty. The driver took us to Khan Market, but everyone kept leading us white ladies to upscale toy stores, Benetton, or a bathroom. We finally gave up and went into McDonalds to get lunch. We bought the driver a sandwich (which hopefully he ate) He actually took very good care of us for being just a plain taxi driver, stayed nearby to keep an eye on us and chatted with another driver while we ate. I suppose if he lost us, he wouldn't get paid, would he? Inside, I approached a mom/English-speaking looking lady to ask our awkward question about the potty. She didn't know where to buy one. Apparently only hospitals and orphanages use the kind we want. I'm sure we are a complete puzzle to the Indian people, always carrying our own luggage, making our own beds, opening and closing our own car doors, and buying industrial potties. Probably the rich ladies buy fancy singing potties, and the poor ladies just hold the baby over a ditch. Nobody uses what we want. So we consoled ourselves with McDonalds.
Leslie got Naveen a chicken nugget Happy Meal. He dove right for the fries today, and drank the juice box, but fed the chicken nuggets to us (even I was offered one! He is going to MISS me!) --did I mention that he asks for me when I'm not there? I don't get to do much, but my presence is noted!
Except........
Leslie bought him an ice cream at McDs but he turned his nose up at it and his face away from it so she threw it out when we left. I bought myself one on the way out and was almost finished with it in the car, when the mister made a noise at me and opened up his little mouth like a bird. So what else does a good and delighted Aunty do but feed the rest of it to him. Made my day!
And now we're back here and L & N are hopefully napping, and I am charging (since we have no properly-sized outlets in our room) and typing, down in the common room. And since it is the middle of the night with you, hopefully you blog-junkies out there (you know who you are!) will have a couple of treats when you wake up!
This evening's entertainment will likely include finding a restaurant where we can eat (room service here is $10 per person! ) and possibly testing out the subway. Wish us luck!
Our plane landed on schedule (half hour late since we took off late). Leslie, "Have I been to this new Delhi airport?" That's how fried she is. I told her yes, three days ago.
She took Naveen to the bathroom (surprise!) and by the time they met me, I had the bags on the trolley. Our driver was (still!) waiting for us and had NO English! He was um, a little scruffy-looking. Or maybe it was his 70s style shirt. This worried Leslie regarding the size of the car. (scruffy driver = small car?). Well, apparently it does. I knew he'd get it all in, but she was pretty worried. It all fit, lots of it on the seat next to her. The driver was offended that I put my seat belt on in the front seat. "Is not necessary, Madam" uh, thanks, but YOU'RE wearing yours, and in the front seat in India I wear mine. (in the back seat I go Indian style, without one) =:o
The drive was about 45 min. And Leslie dozed, but I can't close my eyes when I'm riding in India unless I'm ready to die from exhaustion. I love watching it way too much!
We arrived at the villa and were met by some porters who spoke very little English (but they were super at hoofing our 50+lb. suitcases up three flights!) and we were beginning to feel worried about this place, the ShamNath Villa.
It is beautiful with large rooms, high ceilings and marble floors, shuttered windows with wood trim and a VERANDA, very colonial, located in Old Delhi in Civil Lines. This was a colonial British area, back in the day.
But the outlets are odd and we couldn't plug anything in, the beds are Indian (like sleeping on a cement slab, Leslie said) and the Internet didn't work in the room, tho we were given the password and login at check-in. It was 11:30 and we felt a little panicked.
Nothing a little Melatonin and a hard-night's (literally) sleep can't fix tho.
In the morning we had masala tea and a nice chat with an Indian army major from Tamil Nadu, and then met our hostess at breakfast. Mrs. Shalini is so, so nice and extremely helpful. She was full of advice about Naveen (some helpful) and speaks excellent English. Hooray for English!
We had fresh juice, watermelon cut by Mrs. Shalini herself (I made Leslie eat it and I ate it too), poha and an Indian omelet. She talked to Naveen in Hindi, some of which he understood. Everyone wants him to come to them, but he sticks tight to Leslie. She did bring out some curd for him, and after adding some sugar to it, got him to chow down two bowls! He was asking for more while waiting for the second bowl.
Also at breakfast was a businessman from Sri Lanka, and when our Tamil major came down in his uniform, I eagerly waited to see their meeting. It was civil, the Sri Lankan more so, with the major vaguely superior, attitude-wise.
At the end of breakfast, Simeon called Leslie and while she was on the phone, Naveen made his usual whining signals for the bathroom, which often just means I don't like this situation, get me out. Only this time it was for real. And Aunty didn't have to clean it up this time. Leslie's plan had been for underwear this morning but she could find them, so resorted to the PullUps. Luckiest break EVER! Naveen, however, was VERY unhappy to have this in his diaper--he probably hasn't in ages--and he cried pitifully for a good 20 minutes even after he was changed and we told him it was ok, he was a good boy. Apparently, when he has to go, he has to go now. He can be dry forever though, and woke up dry this morning.
So after that little adventure, it was time for the car. Mrs. Shalini called a taxi for us (a nice cheap one with natural air conditioning) for only 550 Rs. Plus a 20 Rs. tip. She gave him the directions to the Dr., instructed him to wait and told him where to take us shopping afterward to look for a potty. Naveen is fine to pee on the western toilet, but we thought maybe he'd do better on a floor potty for pooping.
We drove 45 min. through the city, with only one traffic light beggar encounter, to the Max MedCentre. Here Naveen needed an exam in order to get his American visa in his Indian passport. It was the typical get in line, see a clerk, fill out papers, pay the bill, no we do not have change, I will bring. Go to another floor, wait, wait, wait. See the Dr. (he got a TB skin test), take these papers, go back to the first clerk, fill out more papers come back Wed. Yes, Madam, a different time is no problem.
We're scheduled to go back at 11 on Wed. But the Embassy is only open from 9-1:00, so we're going to come at 10 and hope it can be read early.
Another family from the US was there doing their medicals, which Leslie had known they would be (awkward grammar alert). Their 8 year old daughter is from Misram, east of Bangladesh, I think, and I think Leslie said she's the first child from that state to go to the US. A very sweet girl, she gave Naveen a piece of her gum, and another little boy (not adopting) shared his Chips with them both. Thinking back on it now, she (Bella) wouldn't interact with anyone while we all stood there talking, just buried her head in her mother each time anyone tried to engage her (didn't take her chip, even) and the only interaction she made was to come out and offer to Naveen. I wonder if, after observing everyone for the 20 min. or so, she realized he was in the same flippin' predicament she was and she reached out to him in commiseration. And with such a large gesture!
Naveen, naturally, did not enjoy the stick in his arm, but stopped crying fairly quickly. We met up again with Bella and her family downstairs and she was pretty wounded emotionally from the 4 shots she'd received. Poor little thing. They said she actually had a remarkable amount of English, which was good since she only speaks Miso ? And of course there is no one here who can communicate with her.
After the Dr. We went in search of the elusive potty. The driver took us to Khan Market, but everyone kept leading us white ladies to upscale toy stores, Benetton, or a bathroom. We finally gave up and went into McDonalds to get lunch. We bought the driver a sandwich (which hopefully he ate) He actually took very good care of us for being just a plain taxi driver, stayed nearby to keep an eye on us and chatted with another driver while we ate. I suppose if he lost us, he wouldn't get paid, would he? Inside, I approached a mom/English-speaking looking lady to ask our awkward question about the potty. She didn't know where to buy one. Apparently only hospitals and orphanages use the kind we want. I'm sure we are a complete puzzle to the Indian people, always carrying our own luggage, making our own beds, opening and closing our own car doors, and buying industrial potties. Probably the rich ladies buy fancy singing potties, and the poor ladies just hold the baby over a ditch. Nobody uses what we want. So we consoled ourselves with McDonalds.
Leslie got Naveen a chicken nugget Happy Meal. He dove right for the fries today, and drank the juice box, but fed the chicken nuggets to us (even I was offered one! He is going to MISS me!) --did I mention that he asks for me when I'm not there? I don't get to do much, but my presence is noted!
Except........
Leslie bought him an ice cream at McDs but he turned his nose up at it and his face away from it so she threw it out when we left. I bought myself one on the way out and was almost finished with it in the car, when the mister made a noise at me and opened up his little mouth like a bird. So what else does a good and delighted Aunty do but feed the rest of it to him. Made my day!
And now we're back here and L & N are hopefully napping, and I am charging (since we have no properly-sized outlets in our room) and typing, down in the common room. And since it is the middle of the night with you, hopefully you blog-junkies out there (you know who you are!) will have a couple of treats when you wake up!
This evening's entertainment will likely include finding a restaurant where we can eat (room service here is $10 per person! ) and possibly testing out the subway. Wish us luck!
Comments
Nancy
An splendid adventure indeed.
Deb/TGBTG