Well, I learned my lesson yesterday. I’m sticking around for breakfast this morning and taking my sweet time getting out the door. The Australian boys are moving to a new place, too, so Jenny and I are taking a touk-touk with the 2 Norwegian girls who just arrived (and who will be visiting me in Singapore, funnily enough) to Connaught Place to meet them for lunch. After that we’ll part company, as we have different agendas. Jenny’s auto-rickshaw driver, who she calls whenever she needs a ride, is a tiny guy (maybe 5’2”?) with poor English but a big heart. He lets all 4 of us pile in with my bags and takes us clear across Delhi, stopping to get Jenny matches at one point, too. The poor guy has to ask for directions about 10 times trying to find my hotel, but he gets us there after “only” 1.5 hours. 
Kumar, my new driver, is a very nice man who wants to talk to me a lot and likes to show off his knowledge of greetings in other languages (Japanese, French, Spanish). He speaks so quickly, though, and is oddly insistent that I let him show me several areas in New Delhi before we go to Raj Ghat. I thought I had quite clearly told him no thank you, but then we pull up to Lakshmi Narayan Temple (which, fortunately for him, was on my to-see list). He says he’ll with the touk-touk outside and when I’m done we’ll go to Old Delhi. At the end I’ll pay him what I think is right for his services, maybe around Rs150.
This is one thing I have to thank Kumar for: this is my favorite place in India so far. It’s a beautiful maroon, yellow and white building with mysterious staircases leading up and down to different rooms and courtyards. It feels so good to walk around barefoot on the cool white marble and it’s such a peaceful place that I almost forget I’m in dirty Delhi. A man saw my hesitancy to approach the idols, so he introduced me to the neon-clothed Krishna, Rama, Humayun and others. There are swastikas all over, which a sign said were "traditional Aryan symbols implying prayers for success, accomplishment and perfection in every walk of life under the guidance of the Almighty". Honestly, it's nice to see a symbol associated with such violence and terror being shown in a wholly new and positive context, which is a good thing since I'm sure I'll see these all over the place.
After that I rather forcefully tell Kumar that we go to Raj Ghat in Old Delhi next, not somewhere else in New Delhi, or I find another touk-touk. He immediately agrees, but this will be a constant battle for the rest of the ride. Upon arriving I find a wide-open expanse of lush green lawns that are well-maintained. Respect for Gandhi, at least, keeps this part of Delhi clean. His tomb is a simple slab of black granite with the Hindi words for “Oh, God” (his final words) inscribed on it. It’s simple and beautiful, although I think Gandhi would say even this is too much for him.
On the way from Raj Ghat to Jama Masjid I lost my heart to an Indian boy. He must have been 8 or so and he was carrying his infant sibling swaddled in dirty rags (part of me chillingly thought that the baby could be dead—it never moved). He didn’t say a word, just walked up and held out his hand. He looked so tired. All I could think was that he was probably never going to escape this lifestyle and that he would be walking up to cars or standing in an alley begging for money for another 50 years. Jesus, I’m crying just remembering it. I hadn’t given any other money to beggars, but the way this boy looked at me, like an automaton that had moved beyond all feeling and was responding simply to sheer need…it was like he didn’t have a soul. He took the 5 rupees I gave him without a sound and moved on to the next car. Idnar and Kumar didn’t seem to notice him.
Another blow, right after that, is the fact that I won’t be able to see the 25,000 capacity Jama Masjid, India’s largest mosque. The one thing in Delhi I most wanted to see is a crush of people due to the “Muslim Day of Happiness” festival (Kumar’s words). He says that as a westerner and a woman it isn’t safe for me to go in, as it is unbelievably crowded and if something happens the police can’t help because they’re Muslim and celebrating, too. I take a few smoggy photos of the outside, nearly get lost a mere 25m in from the street and make up my mind to come back and see it before I get on the plane to go home. Kumar quickly ushers me back to the touk-touk and this time I’m not complaining. Also disappointing, the neighboring Jain temple is closed, but again, maybe next time.
At this point, Idnar drove me to a shop he wanted me to see, the Silk Palace. Let me explain. They claimed that if they bring tourists to these government-run tourist stores then they receive coupons that they can use towards free school supplies and other things for their children. Obviously there’s a hard sell going on in there and they REALLY don’t want you to walk out empty-handed (they would follow me out sometimes), but I figured since my drivers agreed to take me around for 3 hours for just Rs130 if I went in I could handle it. I knew I wasn’t going to buy and told them so, but they said it was fine just go in for ten minutes. It bothered me that they kept saying one more, yes, after this? Especially when at the end of the day they didn’t want to take me to Lal Qila because it was “closing now “(despite me knowing it was open another 2 hours). Several times during the day I flat-out yelled at them and threatened to jump out of the touk-touk if we didn’t go where I wanted to go. It’s an interesting game, designed to overwhelm tourists, separate them from their money and get them to require the driver’s services the next day, as well, and I hope I disappointed them by not playing it. 
To Lal Qila, the Red Fort, at last! It’s a World Heritage Site, although after going through it I wasn't overly impress (I’m also kicking myself for forgetting to collect my Rs50 change from the ticket counter before walking away. Lammmme…). Inside is a fairly respectable war museum, an exhibit of “Blood Paintings of Teenage Martyrs” (which was only a little creepy) and several mosques and courtyards built in the 1300s. I only arrive around 4:20 and have to be out by 5 so it’s a rather rushed tour, but on my way out I have some more fun with the kids as they see my camera and scream “Photo, ma’am, photo!” Only this time they want me to take photos of them, which I am happy to do; they demand payment for it, of course, but fortunately I’m able to shrug them off quite easily and walk briskly out to Chandni Chowk Road.
I had completely different expectations (noticing a trend, yet?) for Chandni Chowk, the major market street, from what I actually saw. Some dim-witted part of me still expected it to be cleaner and more appealing; I mean, come on, the guide book said you had to see it! Wait, it said that about Nizamuddin, too. Next time I’m getting the Lonely Planet guide. Going off the main road for a little while, it felt like I was in some drug-induced nightmarish version of the markets in Aladdin, but this was no cartoon, despite being surrounded by street rats of both the literal and juvenile variety.
I did at least manage to stumble upon a beautiful Sikh temple, complete with sardars in traditional dress with great bushy beards and swords. Sikhs welcome people of all denominations and provide free food and lodging, services I’ll be relying on in Amritsar. There was a service going on, so I removed my shoes, walked through the shallow pool to clean my feet, covered my head with my scarf and entered after touching my head to the threshold. I sat and listened for a while then joined the line that appeared to be leaving. It turned out to be people going to pay their respects to the main shrine, where a knife sat on a pillow and pictures of martyrs were hung amongst colorful tapestries. While in line, a man sitting above the shrine swinging a long, white brush over his shoulders gave me a withered pink flower. Other people were eating them, but I faked it and put it in my pocket. We walked down the stairs to the shrine, touched our heads to the ground (some actually bounced or rubbed them) and went up the stairs on the other side. Then it was out the door and down to the pool again where people stopped to drink from the fountain filling it. Again, I pretended to copy and left.
Found a cycle rickshaw and headed home, but the fun wasn’t over quite yet. Of course my man got lost and had to ask for directions a couple times, which wasn’t so bad. What wasn’t okay was my first experience with “Eve teasing”. This is sexual harassment from Indian men and is typical on crowded buses where they can “accidentally” rub or touch you. It happened to me while I was riding in the rickshaw, holding my bag on my lap with my hands on it. One guy walking by suddenly poked me on the arm quite sharply. Confused, I thought maybe he wanted to be able to tell his friends he’d pissed off a white woman. What I realized later, though, was that he probably just didn’t aim well and hit my hand instead of my chest because a few minutes later a young teenage boy walked past me and quick as a flash he reached out, grabbed my breast and ran off. I wasn’t mad, oddly enough. I felt pity that these men are raised in a society where this is okay and also where the acceptable response is to slap them back. The lack of education and gender equality here is astounding, and it probably isn’t going to change anytime soon.
At the end of the day I’m impressed by how much I’ve managed to fit into just one afternoon. Imagine if I’d had an extra 3 hours to see the sights this morning? Went back to Smyle and had one of the best showers of my life. Seriously. Long, hot and just what I needed to wash away the fine layer of black grit on any skin exposed to the elements (it was also about 2 days overdue). I really don’t think I can over-exaggerate how good this shower felt. Turned on my TV and fell asleep to the sounds of British football and snacking on a granola bar with peanut butter. Aaaahhhhh.
Things I was anticipating that haven’t happened yet:
-Getting sick (easy to avoid when you don’t eat the food)
-Getting harassed by touts at the airport
-Having children follow me begging for money and pulling on my clothes
-Massive clouds of mosquitos (only 2 bites so far)
-Power outages
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