Namaste

Welcome to Indian Jordan, the newest version of my travel blog.  (Putting Buddha’s face in the background may be a bit ambitious, but I liked the layout.)  I just moved to Delhi for a 10-week stint at a local NGO, and today is my second full day in the country.  Already this place is unlike anywhere I’ve ever traveled.  It’s dusty, hot, and crowded, but it all seems to function in some form or another.  The “supermarket” down the block is basically piles of cookies and juices in a dusty corner, next to small statues of the Hindu god Ganesh.  Around my apartment, there are vendors selling fruit from horse-drawn carts, women carrying bushels of rocks on their head (to a construction project), feral dogs running all over the place (and curling up in front of my door), and motorcycles and cars driving in both directions down small paths that were not meant to be two-way streets.  Cars drive on the left here, like in the UK – though in my neighborhood, it’s kind of hard to tell.

My apartment here is about the same level as my Israeli apartment.  It’s on the second floor across from a small market, so there is a lot of noise during the day.  (It’s immediately across from a place where they only sell varieties of packets of milk.  I’m still figuring out how it works, though I do know you have to boil the milk before you can drink it.)  Our kitchen is little more than a sink and a plug-in gas stovetop, but the maid does most of the cooking anyway.  That’s right, we have a maid who comes every day to cook, clean, and call me “sir" (and my roommate "madam").   I wasn’t looking to have a maid, but everyone assures me that this is common practice here.  She does make fantastic Indian cuisine.   (Side note: every time I say “Indian,” I want to correct myself and say “Native American.”  I imagine I’ll get over that soon.)