Here, let me just shove this sharp metal object in your ear

When lunch ended, I was driven to the YWCA where I would be staying for the next week, until we go up to Moussoorie. The drivers had a bit of trouble finding the place, but eventually they got me there and I met up with the group. There’s about 40 of us total, with 10 or so going to Hydrabad University, and the remaining 30 staying here in Delhi. For the first month we all stay together, but when we come back from Moussoorie we split up. The YWCA is in central Delhi, so we’re in the thick of city-life. There are auto-rickshaws everywhere, people managing their various food-stands, homeless people strewn about on the ground, and it seems like the entirety of downtown is under construction. To get into the YWCA, you pass through a gate, and then enter the lobby, which is wonderfully air conditioned. Did I mention that it’s usually a cool and balmy 110 degrees in the daytime in Delhi? In the lobby there are a few chairs and couch’s around a TV, a front desk where we drop off and pick up our room key (there’s only one key, and three people to a room), and a set of doors leading to the dining room where we eat our meals.

The fact that the Lobby is air-conditioned is a blessing and a curse: coming off the streets of Delhi, all shvitsy (sweaty), hot and tired, the lobby is heaven. But it also is the only consistently cool area of the YWCA. There are another set of doors on the other side of the room that open to a stair-case. The moment these doors open, the heat washes over you in such a way that the only response is a sorrowful, “uuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhh”. I’m reminded of that scene in the Anchorman when Ron Burgandy stumbles around Chicago with a gallon of milk saying, “It’s SO hot outside! Milk was a baaaad choice”. Anyway, the reason those doors don’t open into an equally-air-conditioend staircase is that the WYCA is currently under construction, so that where long windows should be, Long boughs of wood are lashed to each other with rope (like primitive scaffolding). My room (room 8) is pretty good – 3 beds, linoleum floor, fan, fluorescent light (which is crooked on the wall), and a bathroom.
Within 5 minutes of getting in, I found my friend Noah, and we went exploring with a few other people. It was my friend Rachel’s birthday so I decided to buy her something from the street. Good thing there were tons of people following us with various nick-nacks – this one guy was selling a head massager for 150 rupees. I told him I’d pay 50 rupees for it, and when he said no I walked away. A minute later, I look back and he’s following me. “120 rupees, ok?” . I hold firm to my 50 rupee asking price. I walk away again, he follows, etc… I ended up getting it for 80 rupees, I probably could have gone lower. Anyway, 1st haggling experience. Soon we came back to the YWCA, rested a bit, and then just Noah and I went out to explore. We went looking for some authentic chai, and passed through some street-markets.

Everyone is SO friendly here. They all say hello and try to talk to us (even if they’re not trying to sell us something). Noah has been taking Hindi for the past year so he was very excited to speak with the locals. He met one guy who, after a bit of small talk, busted out a small notebook with short testimonials about how good he was at what he does. Soon another guy came up to me with the same routine. They were ear-cleaners, and I’m not talking about a q-tip. After exaughstively showing me his book of testimonials, he pulls out a toothpick-thick metal stick, puts a piece of cotton on top of it, holds my head and right ear, and sticks the stick deep into my ear. At this point there’s very little I can do, so I just relax and wait for him to finish. He swirls the piece around in my ear, and brings it out. The once-white cotton is now dark brown, and there’s a bunch of gunky ear-wax on it. My ear actually felt pretty good afterwards, but when he tried to do my other ear, I said no. This was when my brain had started working and was saying to me, “it’s your 2nd day in Delhi, maybe we should hold off on the sketchy Indian guys poking around inside of your ear with a sharp metal stick”. And so we journeyed on.

We passed through is very nice park where everybody was lounging about in the heat, and hung around there for a while. Then we moved back onto the street, because on our agenda was this bar that we had heard of where we could get a beer and watch the world cup. This part of Delhi isn’t based on a grid system, so navigating is quite tough if you’re new. So Noah and I, kind of lost, are stopped at a corner debating over which way to go, when this Indian kid comes up to us speaking, and in very good English asks us where we are going. We tell him, and he tells us that he will lead us there. Not trying to sell anything, not having anything to do, he acts as our guide and we follow him to the bar. At first I was a bit paranoid, because he came out of nowhere, was leading us down some alleys, and I was disoriented. So while Noah was practicing his Hindi with him, I lagged a bit behind, trying to judge the situation. However eventually we wound up at our desired bar, and my paranoia was absolved. His name was Rahul, and when we asked him if he wanted to join us at the bar, he seemed surprised and honored. “who, me? You want me to come up and talk with you?”. He said yes and we bought him a beer while chatting and watching the world cup. Turns our Rahul is 18, from Rajastan, engaged, and studying English here in Delhi. We must’ve been at the bar for 2 hours or so but eventually Rahul had to go so he gave us his phone number, and told us that anything we ever need in Delhi, don’t hesitate to call him. Such a sweet kid. Noah and I found our way back to the YWCA, where we ate dinner and hung out with the rest of the kids.