Ah, the joys of language barriers. I’m not sure what I’ve ended up ordering for breakfast. It started with talk about my tattoos and resulted in me saying yes to what I thought was orange juice but may actually be dosa. I don’t know what this is. No idea. And no Internet to check because I’ve checked out lol. I’m sure it will be fine.
Interesting thing to note this morning. I have been thinking about makeup. I haven’t worn any since I arrived. Not through laziness, not even the humidity, but because I feel no compulsion to hide myself. For some reason, when I look in the mirror here, I don’t see ugly or the necessity of a mask. Living authentically? Following my bliss? Joy?
Some more travel tips. Oh, the dosa was divine. Potato and onion in a warm, crisp wrap with condiments to add.
If you leave Delhi on a Sunday morning, leave extra time for the pandemonium of locals going home. By extra time, give yourself at least two and a half hours. The lines for security check, check in, and then the next security check are huge, especially if you are female (last security check). Having said that, it keeps your adrenaline going and there is not really any wait time.
Also, be prepared for outbursts of random anger as people lose their patience in the lines. At one point, a soldier with a gun had to sort it out. And this was in the outside security check line. I heard one man scream at another, “You are being stupid Kunda!” I do not know what a kunda is, but I am quite positive it isn’t complimentary.
My driver this morning was very chatty. He lives Dharamshala and has been there three times; the air quality was the first thing he mentioned. And it isn’t surprising, Delhi is so polluted that even on a good day, visibility is poor. With Diwali having been last week, the air is even more contaminated than it usually is.
India is an interesting contradiction. There is modern and there is ancient. The people tend to drift between the two. There is movement forward and there is stagnation, particularly with women and their rights. There is colour and then blandness. There is good driving and there is bad driving. The streets are dirty, filthy, yet the people are clean and fastidious with tidiness. There is warmth and then there is judgement. But it’s out there to be seen. Somehow it seems, at least on the surface, more authentic.
But, I am a very short term visitor. I know there is darkness here. As everywhere. It devastated me, back to makeup, that in the beauty treatments on offer here is skin whitening.
The women are beautiful here.
What is it with our world that women are just not allowed to be what they are? Is our power really that threatening?