Delhi. A rough draft

Wow, so much has happened. We landed and there was fog in the airport, which is a basement floor. Fog, inside of a building. Really it is smog because the air here really is as polluted as they say it is in the magazines. In fact I don't think I've seen the sky once in the three days ive been here. After getting our luggage, exchanging some money, and using a bathroom where each stall has its own badet, we were ready to get on the bus at 2 am with our beautiful garlands made out of marigolds and mums... Until we realized someone got lost. Whoopsies. An hour later we decided to go to the hotel anyway, where of course he was waiting for us. They say it's better to get the glitches out of the way early right? Right. The hotel we have stayed in for the last three nights was absolutely comfortable and the staff so gracious. I loved having Indian food for breakfast every morning. I think I'm ready to have curry at every meal now. Our first morning, we only had maybe 3-4 hours of sleep becaus our plane had landed at 1am. After our first breakfast in India, I went with a few brave souls to a nearby market where some of us exchanged money and looked around at a few shops. Lucky for me but unfortunate for my pocketbook, I found the perfect Shauna-outfit for a reasonable price. Back to the hotel we went and jumped into the bus for our first expedition as a tour group. We visited a beautiful Muslim mosque on the day of a holy parade. A musical band with drummers is fancy white uniforms and shiny horns welcomed floats with detailed statues of gods painted with the honor and care from the hearts of the community. This parade was happening in the marketplace just outside of the mosque. So busy! After mazing our way through the bustling streets, Finally we reached the mosque. What a beautiful red place of worship. Steep stairs carried us to the entry where we left our shoes and donned bright light-weight gowns to cover our bodies. The men were provided with sarongs if they were wearing shorts and not pants. In the middle of the courtyard a large square pool is surrounded by worshipers who cup the water with their hands and wash their hands, feet, and neck for an inner and outer cleansing before prayer. To the left of the fountain was an areas where pigeons were eating the food laid out for them. During our stay at the mosque, the birds flew in various groups across the sky as one large entity, like a quilt lapping the waves in the wind. Our tour leader discussed what takes place at the mosque, who built the mosque, and how people come come everyday to pray several times throughout the day. As we stood in our Deaf-friendly circle, many children and adults found our sign language fascinating and come in close. Our circle kept growing. A Muslim woman in a beautiful brown dress and shawl came to introduce herself in ASL. Her husband, who handed out the gowns at entry, and herself are both Deaf. We chatted with her for a bit and she brought her four very young children to meet us, as well. This experience is one of the many times the world feels so small. We left the mosque and rode rickshaw to a spice market. Whoa, now that was a ride. A rickshaw is a setup where a resilient young man pedals a bike which pulls people in very small wheeled carts, which are hitched to the rear of the bike. Weaving through the streets I saw storefronts, shoppers, bag carriers, motorcyclists, carts with fruit and more. The electricity cables throughout the neighborhood were wound up around the poles like spaghetti on the end of a fork. Monkeys crawled and climbed the wires just like trees and vines in a forest. We all enjoyed that moment with cameras. We took a short tour through the spice market. Bay away it crowded. Touring anywhere on a holy day is always going to be a busy and crowding experience. Merchants and buyers were everywhere, folks trying to sell us something and folks intrigued by our sign language clustered in close. We entered a winding hallway where chiles and other spices we're being broken down and processed for sale. Everyone was coughing and complaining about the scent/taste front he aromatic chiles, similar to the experience of pepper spray. Luckily for me, my asthma and allergies had prompted me to wear a surgical mask during our tour. I didn't smell a thing. Once we decided the spices were enough to endure, we all piled into a small bus like clowns in a VW Bug to wind up back at our tour bus at the Red Fort where we immediately took off to head back to the hotel. For it was NewYear's Eve and we all wanted to eat, rest, shop, and prepare for a party at club Mocha to ring 2012 Indian Style. With only an hour and a half to shop, which is a very short time for me, I had to find just the right outfit to celebrate the new year. I the same market where i had shopped in the morning, I tried on a beautiful bright gown, which was too much money and not enough fabric. Indian clothing is catered toward a leaner frame, of which I do not have. Then we found another store with nice clothes for a little bit less than the other store, but still pricey. I negotiated my way into a beautiful too which falls passed my knees and is bejeweled at the heart with many stones and frilled with ribbons on the ends. It needed to be tailored to fit, a process which will take two hours. "But I need it tonight!"I said. The business woman said it was impossible. But she didn't want to lose the sale so she called for a tailor to come right away for me. He had it done in 25 minutes. And people wonder why I'm such a diva. PAH! We were done shopping and I left myself only 20 minutes to get ready for the party. We had so much fun!!!! Many of us were dressed to the nines in our fancy Indian clothes. We were so excited to go party. After walking in, wandering through a few floors and rooms, we looked around and realized all the Indian folks were dressed in more contemporary modern attire, and us tourists were in traditional garb. Food and refreshments were had, dances were shared, and Happy New Year wishes were exchanged amongst everyone in the club. Everyone there was so friendly. So many Indians offered to shake my hand and wish me Happy New Year. Maybe my four years of living in NYC has just made me a little paranoid and skeptical. The DJ toggled between American pop music and Indian Bollywood music. That was fun. He threw in some West Indian music, too. During a Bollywood song, an Indian woman who seemed around the same age as me, started to teach me how to properly dance to the song. That was a lot of fun. People started cheering us on and eventually more folks joined in and we all danced in a circle. Many hearing people tend to assume that ASL is a universal language, which is false. There are many many sign languages in this world. But the one universal language which will always bring cultures together is dance. Happy New Year, Delhi! - 📳Posted using 📝BlogPress from my iPad📲.