Random tidbits

Funny happenings and, well, tidbits will eternally float about in my head regarding events during this trip. Gradually they slip from the grasp of my memory, and I fear that it they aren't spilled from the cavity inside this noggen they will be forgotten forever. So I appologise in advance for the seemingly spurratic or random state of this entry.

We passed a caravan of camels on our way somewhere the other day. They were loaded down heavily with large brown dunny sacks of who knows what on top of very colourful blankets, and atop each was a relatively normal looking man. Why they would choose to use camels as their mode of transportation I have no idea, but that's what they did, and I personally thought it a rather amusing specticle. No one else seemed to think so, they just honked and passed them as if they were cars. We also passed an elephant with someone riding it also laden with goods of some kind on our way to the bakery yesterday. As far as I know, that's the first elephant I have seen here, and it's garenteed not to be the last.

Today marks the day where the construction workers are finished with the inside of the bakery. Although they are five weeks past their supposed finish date, and still not complete some exterior work. Today also marks the day where all the equipment has been sucessfully turned on at the same time, and it all works! Nothing exploded, or shorted out (this time...), or plain old didn't work. Finally!! This quite possibly means that we can clean everything, unpack some boxes and put things in their final resting places tomorrow.

There is a metal fence securing the area that the generator is in, and it was just recently completed with gate and all. Aperently this structure isn't really supposed to be there because of asthetics I guess... not that the rest of the complex the bakery is in is beautiful or anything... but anyhow, if it was put up long enough ago it is allowed to be there. Kind of like the rule in some appartment buildings back at home where if you have a cat and have lived there for the past tren years then you are alowed to jeep your cat. But if you move in to the building, you cannot bring a cat with you. Back to gates... To get around this, the construction guys basically wash the thing in acid to rust it out. This way if an inspector or the main landloard guy comes around and sees it it will look as though it has been there for many years. Totally backward I tell you. But the gate has to be there to protect the multi thousand rupee generator from being stolen. Even though it is the size of a small car, and attached to the building in several ways. It still protects from vandals I guess.

I'm thoroughly enjoying the fruit and veggie market down the street from our house. I can get an entire bag jammed with veggies for 25 rupees, dollar equivelent, 60 cents. It's awesome! And bread is 25 cents (11 rupees), and eggs are 50 cents a dozen (25 rupees), a litre of milk is 65 cents (27 rupees), and so on and so on! Oh yeah, and a McDonalds ice cream cone, although pretty small, are 10 rupees or 25 cents. Marc eats about... mmmm three to four of these a day. :P Ok, maybe slight exageration, but not too much!

We are having a slight water issue in our place. No shortage or anything like that, but it seems to be coming from everywhere. Nearly every hose, tap, flusher, faucet and wall, yes, wall, leaks. There is currently a constant pool of water on our bathroom floor, and the walls of our bedroom are water damaged. But they(the bedroom walls) haven't gotten any worse since we moved in. The ones in the dining room have. There is a wall in the dining room that is shared with a bathroom outside our front door. We never use this washroom, mainly because it has a squatter toilet, and neither of us is quite brave enough to use it. However, it is suspected that Dave and Anna's helper man Anwar is using that bathroom to bathe in... quite possibly because he may not have anywhere to stay right now as he is looking for an appartment, and very well may be sleping on the roof of our building. That washroom is not meant for bathing in, as it does not have all four walls tiled like the others, to prevent moisture damage. We put a padlock on the door, so we will know for sure if it was him if our dining room walls dry out in the next few days. I just hope that the damage isn't as bad as it looks. :S

Marc is going to teach the street kids how to break dance and do the electric slide tomorrow. it should be amusing. I'll try and get some pictures of the kids without being mauled. But right now I need sleep. G-night!

Troubles with the maid...

Life here is hard. Right now, as we are still awaiting opening day for the bakery, there is not too much to do. We have had to resort to those horrible things that are necessary on forced holidays, such as sleeping until at least ten every day, eating out far too much, and shopping. We have also had the torture of attending a few parties. Hehehe. :) In one of our last preparation sagas, we decided we were going to attempt "Twice Baked Potatoes". Finding the right potatoes that were larger than a plumb was interesting to say the least. We didn't succeed. So, armed with a bag full of tiny potatoes of the completely wrong type, we set off on the adventure with no clue what we were doing what so ever.

After semi-successfully baking the potatoes and mashing them as thoroughly as can be done when the odd one decided not to bake, I set the hollowed out skins on a plate next to the mashed potatoes and retired to the living room to read. I did so because I was getting under the feet of the housekeeper. Yes, as I said, life is hard. She comes every day and does the dishes, sweeps and mops the entire house, and does the ironing. I'm getting far too used to it. Anyhow, as I'm reading peacefully in the living room and Rehana is puttering away in the kitchen, Marc arrives back on the scene from checking his mail upstairs. He sits with me for a minute and Rehana finishes up and goes home. He inquires as to how the potato adventure is coming along. I explained how the mashed part is a bit lumpy, but tastes alright, and the skins are thin but relatively intact and awaiting re-filling and re-baking. He then proceeds to do those deeds, and comes right back into the living room asking again where I put the skins. I felt like saying "Are you blind man? They're in front of your face on the counter!" But what came out was just "On the counter." He simply replied "No they're not." Then it struck me. To an average Indian woman, who never uses the skins on potatoes, they would look like garbage. We both thought of this at the same time. He ran and checked. Yup, in the garbage. Crap! How in the world are we supposed to make twice-baked potatoes with only the filling and no skins to re-stuff?! We needed another plan. Appies were our responsibility for this party, and it was in a few short hours. We had a few bags of chips already, and a plate of veggies and dip, but that wasn't enough for the crowd that was going to be descending on Dave and Anna's apartment. Think think think! What else can be done for appetizers with a bowl full of mashed potatoes?? The only other things edible in the house were a bit of flour and sugar, oil and eggs, nutella, peanut butter and jam, and half a loaf of bread. Smearing nutella and mashed potatoes on bread was not an option, and neither was egg and peanut butter sandwiches. Suddenly it dawned on me. Shortly before we left Canada, when there was an equally sad amount of food in the house, we made our own perogies. I ran upstairs and found a recipe for perogie dough on the internet and scribbled it down. Between the two of us, we pounded out about 40 of those puppies and cooked them up just in time for guests to arrive. They were a smashing hit. As it turns out, there is no sour cream in this country, so we resorted to ranch dip. It added a wonderful flavor, and everyone loved it.

That, sadly enough is probably the most interesting thing that has happened this week. Some interviews have happened in regards to employees for the bakery, but as of yet there is not a ton to report on that topic. Oh but wait! We have power now, the emergency generator is up and running, the plumbing is functional, and there is phone and internet! So I guess some things have happened. Now we are just waiting for those darned contractor construction guys to finish up the little things so we can clean the place top to bottom and get ingredients in there.

I'll let you know in a few days as to how that goes, and I'll get some stories and such about interviews. Ciao for now!

Give us POWER!!

Well folks, the generator showed up yesterday! It's about time, that's all I have to say. Supposedly it will be up and running today, which means that we may be able to do some baking on Monday! And even better, as Anna and Rakesh were sitting in the bakery last night contemplating this revelation, the power company people (who have been wretchedly slow in getting around to things without "speed money"), showed up with the meter in hand, ready to install! But the question at hand was whether we had enough cable to go from the ovens to the box. The electrician ended up having to source the cable for the power company because they ran out. What kind of power company runs out of electrical cable!? Apparently this one. But there was some left over from elsewhere in the shop, so hopefully that'll work right? So last night when all this was transpiring, Dave burst into our apartment and declared "The BSE (power company) men are at the bakery NOW, and we need to pray that the leftover cable bought a month ago is long enough!!" So we did, and as we were the phone rang. It was Anna. Dave answered it, and relayed the message that the cable was long enough, but it was aluminum and the power company wants copper. Drat! We asked that it would be long enough and it was exactly, but we forgot to ask for it to be the right kind! :P So as far as I know the correct cable is being sourced and hopefully the power guys will come back today. What a song and dance this all has been.

As for the rest of life, there isn't a whole lot, Marc and I have been exploring the city while Dave and Anna fight with contractors and government officials, embassies and passport offices. The weather is getting cooler, similar to our late September I'd say. It’s somewhere around high teens during the day, and 8-10 over night. Quite pleasant in my books!

After a crazy day the other day, Anna and I spent a little while at the salon. Anna got a pedicure and her hair trimmed while I indulged in a manicure as well as a pedicure and a trim. Maybe it is because we are white, but the service was amazing! We had our hands and feet thoroughly massaged, tea served to us, and our hair fully styled even though we told them not to. It was rather amusing, and quite funny. Anna kept saying to the stylist “You should have left it wet, I’m just going to get all windblown in a rickshaw on the way home to make supper. I’m not going to a wedding for heavens sake!” But his head would just bobble side to side and he would smile and say “special for you today!” I’d poke my head around the mirror and she would smile and roll her eyes and say “you know I’m not going to pay for it, I don’t even want it done.” He would then bobble once more and continue curling. It turned out really pretty and lasted about two blocks. :P

There are two little street girls in the nearby market who have stolen my heart away. They don’t put on the most pathetic face they can muster and double over in pretend hunger pains like most of the other kids. They just run over and hold our hands and walk with us, looking up once in a while and smiling huge sweet smiles. They come to the Saturday afternoon playtime thing that we are now going to that Saji runs. I’ll have to get some pictures tomorrow.

Anyhow, it’s a friend of Dave and Anna’s going away party tonight, and we promised we’d do appies. So I’m off to do some cookin. See ya!

P.S. I figured out how to change it so anyone can post a comment. You don't have to have a blogger account anymore. So comment away! It'd be great to hear from you.

Latest Bakery Photo's

I realise it has been a while since you saw any picutres of the bakery's progress, so I took some the other day.

Looking through the front door into the showcase and sales area, you will see a glass case with various baked goods, and a white girl smiling and staring at said baked goods, wishing she could eat them.







This is Marc (obviously...) in the main preperation room. All the equipmentis still all over the place, but that will be fixed as soon as all the work is finished around it.

In this tiny little room, lives a very large walk in fridge, and a not quite as large, but also really big freezer. Oh, and a decorating table. Let's just say it's a bit snug in there!

Here are the two deck ovens in the back room, which will most likely get over 50 degrees centigrade in the summer. Darn. There is a large fan on the opposite wall that will hopefully suck most of the heat out of the room, but there is only so much you can do when it's 45 degrees plus outside.

That's it for now, but I'll be sure to take some more once everything is in place, and it looks even more as though goodies can be made in it!

Things I have forgotten to mention

We were nearly crushed by a bus today. Alright, so that’s not something I have forgotten to write about, but it was scary! Marc and I were on our way in a good ‘ol motor rickshaw to meet up with Dave and Anna at the Bakery, and we have the slowest one on the road. It’s puttsing along at about 20 km/hr and the bus right beside us decides it wants to be in our lane. No one has side mirrors, it’s every man for himself. Our driver tried to gun it to get passed, but this tin can we’re in has no guts whatsoever, the bus is about three inches from our left side, and the two foot curb is also inches away as usual. I thought we were going to die. At the last second he slams on the brakes and the bus clears our front end by a few millimeters, sending my heart into my throat and down again, all the while racing at approximately 400 km/hr. Our driver goes on as if nothing has happened.

Alright, on to other things that have somehow slipped my mind or been skipped due to the entry getting to lengthy.

We had the opportunity to go to a Divali Maila a few weeks ago, and took it, just to see what the fuss was about. And to grab some good shopping opportunities as well :). A Maila, pronounced may-la, is akin to a fair, but fewer rides, more stalls selling tons of crap, and really bad food. Oh, and no cotton candy which bummed us out. Anyway, these rides consisted of a large ferris wheel, a Viking boat type thing that swings back and forth, a hang-glider one and a bunch of kiddie rides. The Viking boat looked frightening. Not because of how it was built, so much as how people were allowed to ride it. Let’s just say there were no safety regulations, harnesses, anything. People were standing on the ends, edges, and backs of seats, holding onto the crossbeams. Very frightening. So we went on the ferris wheel! Better idea? Apparently not. We sat in baskets with a safety bar on one of the two sides, not strapped in, nothing. And it went FAST. The lady who was in our basket with her three year old daughter on her lap, freaked right out and started crying and trying to hide in my lap. Better yet, we were last in line to get on, and were made to wait on the platform, mmmm six inches from the wheel careening past us at 100 miles an hour. No joke. I was freaked. Fun times!

If you recall there was a previous post about playing with the street kids last week. One of the games we played was the token “Duck-Duck-Goose”. We can’t go wrong with that right? Haha, wrong! One of the kids manages to get Marc up, and he’s going around and around and around the circle taping kids on the head, obviously assessing as he goes who hasn’t had a chance, and who looks as though they may like one. Out of 20 kids in our circle, he “gooses” the one little girl with only one leg. You couldn’t tell when she was kneeling! She proceeds to hop up, and chase him down. And might I say, for a little thing with only one leg, man could she move!! She nearly caught him too. It was truly amazing. She was the sweetest thing as well. Really good sport, and the cutest smile. We had a good laugh at Marc’s decisiveness, and discretion in his choice of rival.

We went to see a very silly Bollywood movie a few nights ago called Om Shanti Om. It was mostly in Hindi except a few choice phrases which they put in English. And there really is no rhyme or reason as to what they chose to put in English either. Example, “first flight out” and most of the profanity. Odd, and three hours long with an intermission. A fairly typical Bollywood flick! You can most likely google it or type in the title on you tube and see previews.

I have to go, it’s late, and Anna fell asleep on the couch :). So sweet!

Smoggy days and silly ways

Divali has come and gone, and we still have fireworks to spare. They were too cheap to pass up, and there is always New Years Eve right? We spent Saturday evening with a group of street kids that live under a nearby flyover or giant overpass. After nearly getting lost because of a bicycle rickshaw driver who didn't speak any English, and our Hindi being really bad, we met the kids, and Dave and Anna's friends Saji and Bindu and their kids, in a park not too far from here. We played some games and ate some snacks. Pretty much all last week Marc had been attempting to make his fire poi out of whatever we could find in the local markets. Apparently they don't have Kevlar wick, so cotton socks, string and wire had to do the trick. After some trial and error on the roof, he succeeded in making a set that wouldn't throw burning bits of string and sock into the crowds. It proved to be rather amusing watching the faces of the kids and passers by as he skillfully and artfully swung around the kerosene soaked flaming masses hanging from the ends of the rough chain. Definitely impressed many! I wanted to take pictures, and I had my camera in the backpack, but there wasn't a moment in the entire hour and a half that I didn't have a child climbing all over me, gently stroking my hair and fair skin. The thought of bringing out a giant high tech camera brought visions of even more attention directed at me and not the leaders. To end the spectacular show, the older boys and Marc proceeded to light off around 30 bottle rockets, and equally as many other various colourful explosives. We had a blast! Marc has been lovingly named the "Ag Wallah", roughly meaning "One who makes fire".

All other weekdays have since been spent in more non-dramatic ways. Some shopping here and there and dealings with the bakery and the various companies, manufacturers, and government offices unfortunately necessary in getting this thing off the ground. Nearly all the equipment is in now, and just needs to be put in its proper places. David and Anna are currently scouting out furniture for the office, and I believe today is the day the construction workers are supposed to be leaving. Two and a half weeks late. It seems as though everyone here works on a clock that they set to go as slow as they please. It's tough to adjust to. When a bloke states he will meet you at say 4:00 pm, you can be sure that he will be sitting somewhere at four, on the other side of the city, lazily gazing into the interminable distance. He will see a clock that says that it is now past four, and he will think to himself, "Huuuhhh, I was to meet them at Red Moon Bakery about now. Maybe I should grab a rickshaw." But He won't call to tell you he will be over an hour late, you will be left to sit and watch the cows graze on garbage piles and deposit lovely packages on your brand new Endeavour’s doorstep. After some time has passed and several dogs and cows have too, you call to find out where in the world this guy has gone to, and why you have been unwillingly forced to do the "Indian Vacant Stare" into the distance for the past 45 minutes. He answers his mobile and happily declares that he is five minutes away. He will show up in twenty. Silly ways.

Yesterday we went furniture shopping for a few pieces to outfit downstairs. We have officially moved to our own flat! The layout is exactly the same as Dave and Anna's place here, apart from some exterior door placements. After sharing this space for nearly three weeks, the silence and solitude is strange. Alright so there's hardly a moment of true silence, so it's more the solitude and lack of cable and internet and AC that's so much different. And the fact that when the power shuts off everyday from 10:00am to 12:00pm and 5:00pm to 6:00pm we have no backup generator to give us a few lights and fans. Thankfully it's getting a bit cooler now, and the absence of air-conditioning and fans don't send us reeling uncontrollably into the unbearable heat as in the summer months. Anyway, back to the furniture shops. Tucked away amidst shanties and dirt roads running with sewage and water, sits what appears to be a couple of hole-in-the-wall furniture places where the carpenters sit outside the front door staining and carving, planing and hammering. We saunter past the barefoot men into the building, and have to get someone to turn on the lights so we can see the maze of furniture we are about to get lost in. The pace is exceedingly deceiving. There are four floors, all fairly large for a Delhi retail outlet. I would attempt a square footage estimate, but I believe I can safely say that's impossible because you cannot see any walls, let alone from one to another to estimate a distance. There are about 10 to 15 rows of all types of furniture stacked to the ceiling, with a two and a half foot aisle between each. It's mind boggling. I took a video, because pictures wouldn't do it justice. I still hope to be able to post a bunch of videos I've taken so far, of here and the bakery, and traffic and bollywood. We managed to find a TV stand and a couple of nightstands, all handcrafted solid local wood. Total cost? About $200. Insanity I tell you. You would pay at least quadruple that at home.

Well, since this is getting a tad bit lengthy, I shall wrap it up with an anecdote about Indian McDonalds. We dined at said fine joint last evening, and had the usual. Their McChicken. (One of the few edible items on the menu in my books...) But it has a faint Indian curry taste to it that I still haven't quite acquired the taste for, so I went next door and tried Subway. Still not the same, but bearable. We've been roped into the wonderful world of "soft-serves" from McD's though. For Rs. 10, or 25 cents, you can get a small ice cream or a small sundae type thing. Marc came back to the table yesterday chuckling, with an ice cream in one hand and a strawberry sundae in the other. He explained how the young man behind the counter with a glazed over look in his eyes, robotically took his order and preceded to hand him the ice cream cone, and put the lone sundae on a large tray with a spoon a napkin and a packet of ketchup. Marc just picked up the dish and the spoon, told the fella to keep the ketchup and walked away. The bemused employee looked at him puzzled, and went back to taking orders. We had a good laugh. Hey, maybe Indians like their strawberry sundaes with a good dose of Ketchup!

Yeah yeah, we're still alive

So for those of you, (namely our parents...) who were begining to get worried, we are still here, and there is nothing to worry about. I haven't posted anything in a week, mostly because of the fact that nothing super spectacular has happened. I planned on writing tomorrow of our adventures today, and I still will. As much as I would like to tonight, it is half past midnight, and I'm pooped! So I'm terribly sorry if I have caused any concern, but it was unintentional I promise. Until tomorrow, goodnight!

Rides by choice, and by trickery.

This week is Davali week. Davali, also called Dawali, is a festival celebrating light. I’m not positive of its full original purpose and meaning, but now it is celebrated by giving one another pretty packages of nuts, sweets and dried fruit, and by blowing up as many fireworks and firecrackers as you can get your hands on. Yesterday in particular was the day before the day before Davali, and apparently labeled the luckiest shopping day of the entire year. We didn’t have any clue that there was anything special about it, so Anna gave us a city wide scavenger hunt to complete. The main point of it was to get to know the city, talk to people, practice our (very bad) Hindi and Urdu, and get used to taking rickshaw’s places. It was a fantastic idea, and it was fun for the first hour. We left the house by auto rickshaw at around 12:30pm, with the goal of getting everything completed by 7:00pm. There were four pages of things to do, and as we set off to the first destination, Connaught Place, it all seemed easily achievable in just over six hours.

Connaught Place is more an area than a specific place. Within this area is an entirely underground mall. It consists of several large circles of shops within each other, or it may have been a giant spiral, I’m not too sure. We got lost instantly. Not knowing what entrance we went in didn’t help in the slightest. With merchandise hanging from every surface possible, and hordes of bodies flowing down the spiral, it was reminiscent of Old Delhi but indoors. To top it off, every second step taken was permeated with calls from shops on either side shouting through the masses, “Sir? Madam? Ladies clothing? Belts? Jackets? Movies and DVD’s? Hellllooo? Mam? Pashmina shawls? HELLLLOOOO???”

After getting coerced into buying another belt of “real leather sir, look I’ll try to light it on fire and it won’t burn. See? Real leather!” we got out of there as fast as we could. Alright, what’s next on the list, and how in the world are we supposed to find it? Janpath Rd Market. Pronounced “John-pot”. As we stare blankly at our map, still bewildered by the shopping mayhem, a young man saunters up to us and starts making small talk. He eventually asks if we are lost, and if he could be of any help. We attempt to explain what a scavenger hunt is, (nearly impossible by the way) and how we need to find a travel agent, and the cheapest way to Agra as our next thing to complete. “Oh! The Taj Mahal!!” He exclaims with much exuberance, and begins to enquire as to when we are going, and where else we are going, and how long we will be there, and how far we’ve gone so far, and a bunch of other things. We again, try to explain that we are not actually going there yet, this is just for the hunt, and no, he doesn’t have to book our tickets for us because we are not actually going. He doesn’t get it. He takes us to a government run tourist information joint that thankfully actually got us the information we needed even though it wasn’t a travel agent. Now for Janpath? Or are we there already… Assuming that this fellow has gone on his way to meet up with his “friend who was to meet him in Palika Bazaar” (the spiral mall), we make our way out of the building only to be jumped upon once again. “Did you book your tickets to Agra?” Oh for heavens sake he just doesn’t get it does he. Whatever. We ask him to show us where Janpath Market is because we need to buy something uniquely Kashmiri. He perks up even more (didn’t think he could) and says he knows of an excellent shop that is all Kashmiri goods. Fair enough. We proceed to follow him through a maze of traffic, shoppers, shops and buildings, only to find ourselves face to face with a very large stand-alone building with a parking lot. Stand-alone buildings are rare, and therefore instantly mean very expensive. Never mind the fact it had a parking lot. Nowhere has a parking lot. It’s wasted space! We go in anyway. Big mistake. Gazing around at the beautifully displayed merchandise, and thoroughly enjoying the air conditioning, we are stopped by a salesman who insists he give us a guided tour, beginning with the Pashmina Shawls. They are all admittedly gorgeous, and softer than anything I have ever felt in my lifetime. Then he tells me how much they are. The one I was admiring was Rs. 40,000 (rupees) which is about $1000 Canadian. Hah. Right. After showing us all the grades, I manage to find one that is Rs. 600, or about $15 CAN. Much better, and still pretty soft. He recommends we take a look upstairs, which is all jewelry. We leave as quickly as possible because it’s all too beautiful to resist. Thinking we had finally lost our little friend that won’t leave us alone, we speed-walk back to the road. He comes out of he shadows and asks us where we need to go next. AAAGGGG! We are supposed to be doing these ourselves to get to know the city by walking around and taking rickshaws, but with this guy, we haven’t actually made it to any of the places we were supposed to go!! We have just spent two hours with him, and we are still on the first page. Marc tells him our friends have called and that we must go home. Buddy boy flags down a rickshaw, and in breakneck speed Hindi, tells the driver where to go and how to get there. It is to our home, but by way of some government shopping center for tourists. Drat, we’ve been scammed. By this point I have a migraine, and the exhaust from the millions of vehicles is choking me. A thousand horns create a deafening roar all around us as we drive, and all the light, sound and commotion make me want to bury my head in a hole.
Having no real intention of going all the way home, especially in this traffic, we hop off at Humayans Tomb. Finally something familiar. We hung out there for a few minutes then hopped in yet another auto rickshaw bound for somewhere else on our list. The rest of the day is a blur, and that’s alright with me. I remember spending hours in traffic, getting fireworks, and nearly getting conned into the same trap as earlier in the day, several more times. Everyone seems so helpful, but that’s their job. They see white people, they assume you are tourists, and try to take you to these government sponsored “Emporiums” or markets, where everything is overpriced, and they inevitably get a cut by bringing you there.

It took two hours in wretched traffic in a painfully slow rickshaw, but we finally made it home. Needless to say, we came far from completing the hunt. Perhaps we shall attempt it once more when the city isn’t in a perpetual state of boxing-day shopping.

Rythm of the city

Daily life in India continues to prove itself nearly opposite to life in North America. For instance, Here, it is considered taboo for a woman to show her legs, and frowned upon for her to wear tighter clothing. At home, the fashion currently seems to be the more leg the better, and the tighter the better. It is not good for a man and a woman to hold hands or show any sort of affection in public here, but you will see everywhere you look young men holding hands or cuddling at bus stops. DOn't get the wrong impression though, homosexuality is ilegal. It's just that as boys they hold hands to make sure they don't lose each other in the crowds or crossing the street, and it's just their way of showing that they are really close friends from boyhood. It's not weird at all. If you are from here. It still weirds me out, that's definately something that'll take a while to get used to. Women show no affection for anyone. They are rather pushy acctually. At home, you would be shocked and quite disterbed and dicusted if you saw a man across the street from your shop taking a leak in the street, but here it's just normal. It's almost become a game: see how many urinating men you can see in one car trip. Yikes. Oh, and if your rickshaw driver has to go, he will pull over and sighn to you that he needs to relieve himself by raising his pinky finger in the air. Apperently the universal sign for "I need to pee, I'll just be a minute". Another one is if you were to smell something akin to raw sewage at home, you would assume that there was a major breakage in the sewer line and that someone would be fixing it within the hour, or that it's really just freshly spread manure on a local farmer's feild. Here, it is the holy and sacred Yamuna river that constantly smells like 500 tanker trucks full of crap just let go of their cargo right beside the road. Oh wait, there are no trucks, the crap just flows into the river anyway. Ocationally it's so strong I have to take a deap breath through the thickest cloth near me,and hold it for as long as phisically possible just so I don't vomit. It's rough. I think driving past that nasty stinky cow farm on my way to work will be a piece of cake when I come back. Then there is the children who come and tap on your windows at stoplights or traffic jams. They are trying to sell you magasines or little plastic flowers mostly. They are increadibly dirty with the kind of eyes that could melt the hardest of hearts. The sad thing is though that it is advised not to give to them or buy things off them because they wont see any of the money, and it won't help they're situation in the slightest. So if we ever have leftovers from going out to dinner, or have cookies or buiscuts in the car, we give them these. At least it'll put something in their little tummys. At home you have to watch out for doggy doo in the parks sometimes, and really, now that doesn't seem quite so bad. A cow took a crap right outside the bakery's frontdoor the other day. Ick. Oh, and you know how on most highways and such in Canada they have those signs that say "$2000 fine for littering"? Well here, there are no trashcans, they are one in a million, and if you have trash, you throw it anywhere you darn well please. It's positively discusting, and still to me seems quite outrageous. No one else (that isn't white) bats an eye. The westerners all still refuse to adopt this kind of lifestyle, even if they've been here for 15 years. Thank goodness. But the ironic part, is that you will see signs that proudly state, "keep our city green and clean!" Keep it? It isn't in the first place! How can you keep something clean that's is filthy beyond all recognition?

All these things continue to confound me, and I think they still will even after we've been here for three months. They are so extremely opposite that I don't think they'll ever become normal to me.

Old Delhi

Yesterday was a day of adventure and new experience. The morning was restful and relaxing, and after we found out that the equipment was not being delivered that afternoon but monday instead, we had the day to travel down to Old Delhi. But first we needed to stop by the bakery. Some things had progressed, but not a huge lot. Not a big surprise.

This is one of the woodworkers. Note that he has no shoes on, he is sitting on the door he is cutting a hole through, and that he is using a small pull-saw. I watched him for what was probably half an hour, and by the time we had to leave he had made it through the veneer on one side, and maybe half way through the core. Painful I tell you. This could be done in minutes with anything with power. A skill saw, jigsaw, scrollsaw, ANYTHING! But they do everything by hand. Why? Because labour is cheap, and they are not paid by the hour, so it doesn't matter to them how long it takes. So backward I tell you.


After hangin' at the bakery for a little bit, we make our way to the metro station. Unfortunately thus far the closest one is a half hour away, but eventually there will be a station just minutes away from the bakery. Going into and out of the metro was strange because it felt like it was in another country. When underground or in one of the stations, everything is neat and tidy, floors are swept, advertisment signs are backlit and the glass is clean, there are signs with directions on them and maps. None of these things will you ever see outside the station. There are a few road signs telling you which direction a road is in, but no roads are marked, and if you miss your turn you are screwed. Walking out of this high-tech station was like walking back in time. You step out into the filtered sunlight and into a whole nother world. There are bodies everywhere, mixed with traffic and bicyles, cow carts and horse-drawn buggys. Crossing the street is reminiscent of that old video game frogger. You can only cross one lane of traffic at once and that's if you can even determine what a lane is. If you make eye contact and put your hand up vehicles will usually stop to let you pass, but this in itself is an art yet to be mastered... I mostly just hold Anna's hand and trust her excelent judgement, close my eyes and run when told. Looking up I see masses of tangled wires going from derelict building to derelict building, and signs plastered over every inch of available space on the fronts of these buildings, holding them together as well I swear. People live above these shops, and each shop must be an average of about 10 feet wide at most. I have no clue how you get to the residences above, because I can't ever see a staircase... must be in the backs of the stores.


We grab a couple bicycle rickshaws and make our way to the busiest place on earth. It's the industrial market, where everyone goes to buy things for their businesses. There is absolutely NO do it-yourself, simply because there is always someone to do it for you. And it's nearly imposible to find the tools to do it yourself. Evey shop is highly specialised, and so you'd have to go to about 100 shops to find everything to simply fill a basic tool kit. I wasn't able to take any pictures within this market because I was constantly fighting to keep up with everyone without getting trampled underfoot the masses. Basically picture an alleyway between 3 and 4 storey buildings about 15-20 feet wide, and completely jammed with bodies all walking quickly in various directions. If you want to go anywhere, you'd better get in the flow, keep left and don't stop walking unless you deak into a shop. Thankfully Dave and Marc are head and shoulders above everyone so I could almost always find them. They could never find me though. For once, I'm exactly the same height as EVERYONE. We found the crate place we were looking for and got the information necessary. From there we managed to find the steel and aluminum market, and got some tart tins and loaf pans.

What a day.

But it's not finished yet. By some sort of miracle we find the main road and walk along it for ten minutes till we find two free bicycle rickshaws. We take these to a bus stop. Wait... bus? Dave has never been on the local transit yet. he has avoided it at all cost for over four years. Why? you ask? Well, let's just say it's an entire adventure in itself. We got on the bus, and it was nearly empty. We found a couple of seats, and settled in for the two minute ride. People jump on and off the bus as it drives, no joke, it only stops at major stops, so you have to jump off if you want off before that. Next stop about a hundred people pile on. It is sardines to the max. But wait... I hear Daves voice a few seats behind me saying we have to get off in a minute. This means we have to get through these bodies? You've got to be kidding me. We manage to get standing, and our seats are filled before we have even left them. We too are now sardines. But we're in the center of the bus and we have to get to the front in about 10 secconds because the bus is slowing down. I have no clue how we did it, but we sqeezed our way through the masses and got out the door just as the bus started to roll away. I think it helps that we're white. People were a bit more concerned that we got off. Apperently foreigners never ride the transit. I don't blame them. It is pure insanity.

We have been bouncing between home, shops and the Bakery for a few days now, and I've been able to acctually leave the house (and subsequently the washroom) for the last couple days too! Every time we go to Red Moon, (the Bakery) Something is either going wrong or going dreadfully slow. Slightly dicourraging. Yesterday we got a call in the morning from our manager Rakesh that the neighbour next to the bakery had come over the evening before and threatened to beat the workers if they kept drilling holes in the wall. Apperently they were trying to have some classes or something (at 10:00 at night??) and the drilling they were doing was disturbing them. So, as it turned out, he scared the crap out of the guys, and they refused to come to work all day yesterday. This means further delay. So yesterday was spent mediating, and attempting to find some sort of middle ground with this neighbour. As it turns out, they have classes from 7:30 in the morning till 10:30 at night. That's crazyness!!!! Oh, but they stop for lunch from 1:00 to 4:00, so you guys can work then. Right. Ok, so we can tell our guys that they have three hours durring the day that they can acctually get stuff done. Right. Our other option is they do everything in the middle of the night. So I believe they will be working all night tonight, and there were a couple carpenters there today, basically just putting in a door. Which believe it or not, takes an entire day. Work here confuses me. Anyway, on the bright side, the walk in fridge was assembled the other day, and the frezzer was also delivered. They look good, and despite a few things that wont fit in it, all is well with those. The walls are painted, the floors have been ground and buffed, and the toilet and sink are in and plumbed up. So as it stands, I think we're about a week away! Hooray!!! But there are still a few hurdles to jump over before we can even bake in there. For instance, there is no power. This is a big one. We have a little bit, enough for lights and fans, but they are waiting for the power people to come and hook up the phase 3 so the ovens and fridge and freezer can acctually be turned on. Anyway, I gotta run and watch a movie, but I'll give ya another update in a few days.

Ciao!