One of the later posts in Marrakech showed a mule-drawn wagon piled super high with stuff. A friend commented in an email to me (why does it always have to be email, don't you people see that fun little comments box at the end of each blog - or do you all just give up before getting to the end of an entry and don't know it's there?) that it was pretty crazy.
Well, to that friend and the rest of you, I present this tricycle.
Note that the front of it is smoking.
These two are what I believe is a cemetery, and are a result of what happens when you ask yourself "I wonder where he is going?" as a guy walks through a gateway that you happen to be standing in front of at the time.
I guess I've just sort of jumped into it this time without much of a preamble. That's not actually the best advice I'd give someone visiting Delhi based upon my short time here. When I walk out the door of my apartment without thinking about it I'm likely to get run over by an autorickshaw, and I actually find myself mentally adjusting for the walk to the metro. "Right", I tell myself, "it's busy out here. Pay attention." More oft than not now though I have made the mental adjustment before walking out the door. It's better that way.
Leaping right into it with a blog though should be less treacherous. 3D technology has not gotten to the point to make it physically dangerous, though I anxiously await the day when we have holodecks and danger rooms that can be set to maim us (that's hurt as opposed to have us break out into show tunes - though perhaps that would hurt some of us too) as we practice destroying our robot masters. Anxious is likely the right word here, as having a robot master would royally suck. So we're safe from 3D for the time being with the noteable exception of an Avatar sequel, so the only thing to be afraid of is my writing. Which yes, can be horrific at times, but likely won't leave any permanent scars.
Can't get the same deal from an autorickshaw I'll bet.
Right, so I said "jump in" and just as you're off the cliff and jack-knifing towards the water like a forlorn James Blunt I've freeze-framed the film and tossed you into the void.
Well, time to play Mr. Bean to my own Carson Clay and splice something together that stops this from being another Playback Time. Art it is not.
Yesterday I was at the Max Super Speciality Hospital in Saket, which is quite near to where I live. I was invited there by a very nice surgeon named Rohan who I had met during a photo-walk I will tell you about next time. Rohan had not offered to provide me with an elective surgery of my choice, but had offered to show me around, as well, I'd told him what I do back home in Toronto, and got really geeky about it and he took pity on that and threw this poor dog a bone. This bone was a short tour of Max hospital and an introduction to Agnibesh, a trainer in the IT department there, which turned into a long conversation about one of my favourite conversation topics: "Healthcare IT - What's Working, What Isn't, and What are We All Gonna Do About It." This by the way comes third in line of my favourite topics right after "Pygmy Hippos and Their Household Uses" and "Land Wars in Asia".
In that conversation Agnibesh made the comment, and I quote "Indians love their colour." He was referring to user interfaces, but I'm thinkin' it's applicable other places too.
This is Dilli Haat. It's a market.
It's got shops. It's got food. It's got performances. And it's basically trying to showcase many of the variety of cultures you'll find were you to spend some time travelling all over this big busy country called India. If you're from Toronto then you can think of it as being kinda like Harbourfront, but with a lot more colour. Because, well, Agnibesh was right.
That by the way is what happens when you:
a) walk the wrong direction when exiting INA metro, and instead of going the way you think you should (which as it turns out would have you arrive at Dilli Haat in less than three minutes, even if you are leaving a trail of slime behind you in the process) you follow the traffic "detour" signs with Dilli Haat written on them and go for a twenty minute stroll through the neighbourhood; and,
b) Mis-title a picture and put it in the wrong sequence but don't bother to correct that mistake even though it'd be easier than snot (see previous comment on slime trails) for no good reason whatsoever, you lazy twit. (I wanted to say prick but my mom may read this so I'm trying to keep the language clean. I mean, I've played Cards Against Humanity with Noah and Jake, so it's not like I'm saving them from anything any more. Nor them me by the way.)
Some of you like laundry though, so I figured it should stay.
Meanwhile, back in Dilli Haat.
So yes, an incredibly colourful place. And one where I bought four elephants. Also pretty calm and quiet, all things considered.
As I've mentioned, Delhi is comprised of either seven or twelve cities depending on how you count them up. Well, those cities are then further divided up into residential colonies. I've seen a list of 895 residential colonies, so while I don't know the actual number, let's just say that there are alot. I'm gonna learn more about them, their general design, purpose, etc., but I'll say right now that, so far, I don't really like the idea. It really seems to segment the city up in a way that makes it not friendly for pedestrians. That said, one thing they have going for them is that once you get inside the gate and the walls, they tend to be quieter. That's not to say that they're quiet, but that "-er" goes a long way. Tranquil would not be the word to describe Dilli Haat, far from it. But it did have a certain peace to it given that there was no motor traffic.
Anyway, more on that topic another time perhaps.
By the way, if there is anything I learned at Max Super Speciality Hospital it's that I love what I do for a living. I mean, when I posted on FB yesterday "Getting my geek on" or something to that effect, I really meant it. It's like I had a bar of soap and was trying to reconnect my shadow, but then Rohan and Agnibesh came along and stitched it to my toe, and now my geek and I are all happy and reunited.
Well, I did say Rohan was a surgeon.
I love language. Especially English, as it's the one I know. I also love signs, and wondering what (else) they could mean.
One of the things that got me to rewrite those brochures in Marrakech was the wonderful description of Ait Ben Haddou as being "one of the most gravitational places in Morocco".
So, people are attracted to it. Excellent.
When I was in Hauz Khas Village, so not the Hauz Khas market or residential colony, but still reasonably nearby if you're good at Frogger, I met a French journalist and translator who lives in Quito, Equador, and was visiting friends in Delhi. We got talking over momos (more on that in a sec) and were discussing the art of translation, and I told him the "gravitational" story. He laughed harder than anyone so far that I've shared that with. He also thought it had a certain poetry to it. Which admittedly it does. Certainly more poetry then what I replaced it with.
Anyway, he offered me a momo, which is a dumpling. It's not my friend Maureen, and it's not my friend Hussein. It's a dumpling.
The dumplings are delicious.
No comment on the other two.
These are two pictures from Hauz Khas.
Why only two? Because, I didn't want to take pictures and I know I'll be going back because there is a couch surfing event there tomorrow night and because there's a lot of old cool stuff there by the lake and lots of neat shops, including a movie poster shop, so I figure it's on the list of places for James and I to check out when he gets here so why waste a perfectly good surprise for myself by exploring too much of it the first time. Meaning, I didn't stay long. Got there, saw the potential, slowly backed out trying not to disturb the beast.
On tippy-toes.
Definitely not the case for Old Delhi.
I've wandered about it a bit on my own, and I've wandered about it a bit with Rohan. Not photo-walk surgeon Rohan, but couch surfer network "Hi, I'm Christopher and I've got a place to stay but did you want to meet up and hang out a bit because I know no one in this city and you seem like a decent enough fellow based upon your profile" Rohan.
And he is so that's what we did.
And yes, I know two guys in a city of 20 million or so people and they're both named Rohan.
One of those times when it is best to just let the pictures explain it I think. Though one thing I will add.
You'll likely be seing lots more of Old Delhi as I expect I'll be there a couple more times. Old Delhi, aside from being home to all of the above and oh so much more, is also home to several significant old things that I am looking forward to seeing, again, once James arrives.
And just so we can all breath for a moment, here's a shot from my neighbourhood, Malviya Nagar, in the evening. It may look nice and serene, but what you don't see in this picture is what is behind me and nearly running me over even though I am hugged up to the fence that surrounds this neighbourhood park. I would by the way, have it no other way, so please do not take my comments on traffic as complaints, frankly, I think it's incredible. Stunning, confusing, overwhelming at times. Just incredible.
Anyway, I said it about Marrakech several times, and it's even more true for Delhi I think. Pictures cannot capture the energy and essence of this city the way that sound could. The sounds you might imagine go with the above Old Delhi pictures? Those sounds are the same ones that accompany this little bonfire.
So if a picture is worth a thousand words, what's 3 minutes and 30 seconds of audio worth?
Well, if the picture is by Annie Leibovitz, the words by J.K. Rowling, and the 3:30 of audio by Taylor Swift, then the market today would possibly say they'd all be worth about the same. These are just my pictures and words though, so they're probably not worth the paper they are printed on.
Which is saying something for a blog.
You'll get some calm next time.
Well, to that friend and the rest of you, I present this tricycle.
Note that the front of it is smoking.
These two are what I believe is a cemetery, and are a result of what happens when you ask yourself "I wonder where he is going?" as a guy walks through a gateway that you happen to be standing in front of at the time.
I guess I've just sort of jumped into it this time without much of a preamble. That's not actually the best advice I'd give someone visiting Delhi based upon my short time here. When I walk out the door of my apartment without thinking about it I'm likely to get run over by an autorickshaw, and I actually find myself mentally adjusting for the walk to the metro. "Right", I tell myself, "it's busy out here. Pay attention." More oft than not now though I have made the mental adjustment before walking out the door. It's better that way.
Leaping right into it with a blog though should be less treacherous. 3D technology has not gotten to the point to make it physically dangerous, though I anxiously await the day when we have holodecks and danger rooms that can be set to maim us (that's hurt as opposed to have us break out into show tunes - though perhaps that would hurt some of us too) as we practice destroying our robot masters. Anxious is likely the right word here, as having a robot master would royally suck. So we're safe from 3D for the time being with the noteable exception of an Avatar sequel, so the only thing to be afraid of is my writing. Which yes, can be horrific at times, but likely won't leave any permanent scars.
Can't get the same deal from an autorickshaw I'll bet.
Right, so I said "jump in" and just as you're off the cliff and jack-knifing towards the water like a forlorn James Blunt I've freeze-framed the film and tossed you into the void.
Well, time to play Mr. Bean to my own Carson Clay and splice something together that stops this from being another Playback Time. Art it is not.
Yesterday I was at the Max Super Speciality Hospital in Saket, which is quite near to where I live. I was invited there by a very nice surgeon named Rohan who I had met during a photo-walk I will tell you about next time. Rohan had not offered to provide me with an elective surgery of my choice, but had offered to show me around, as well, I'd told him what I do back home in Toronto, and got really geeky about it and he took pity on that and threw this poor dog a bone. This bone was a short tour of Max hospital and an introduction to Agnibesh, a trainer in the IT department there, which turned into a long conversation about one of my favourite conversation topics: "Healthcare IT - What's Working, What Isn't, and What are We All Gonna Do About It." This by the way comes third in line of my favourite topics right after "Pygmy Hippos and Their Household Uses" and "Land Wars in Asia".
In that conversation Agnibesh made the comment, and I quote "Indians love their colour." He was referring to user interfaces, but I'm thinkin' it's applicable other places too.
This is Dilli Haat. It's a market.
It's got shops. It's got food. It's got performances. And it's basically trying to showcase many of the variety of cultures you'll find were you to spend some time travelling all over this big busy country called India. If you're from Toronto then you can think of it as being kinda like Harbourfront, but with a lot more colour. Because, well, Agnibesh was right.
That by the way is what happens when you:
a) walk the wrong direction when exiting INA metro, and instead of going the way you think you should (which as it turns out would have you arrive at Dilli Haat in less than three minutes, even if you are leaving a trail of slime behind you in the process) you follow the traffic "detour" signs with Dilli Haat written on them and go for a twenty minute stroll through the neighbourhood; and,
b) Mis-title a picture and put it in the wrong sequence but don't bother to correct that mistake even though it'd be easier than snot (see previous comment on slime trails) for no good reason whatsoever, you lazy twit. (I wanted to say prick but my mom may read this so I'm trying to keep the language clean. I mean, I've played Cards Against Humanity with Noah and Jake, so it's not like I'm saving them from anything any more. Nor them me by the way.)
Some of you like laundry though, so I figured it should stay.
Meanwhile, back in Dilli Haat.
So yes, an incredibly colourful place. And one where I bought four elephants. Also pretty calm and quiet, all things considered.
As I've mentioned, Delhi is comprised of either seven or twelve cities depending on how you count them up. Well, those cities are then further divided up into residential colonies. I've seen a list of 895 residential colonies, so while I don't know the actual number, let's just say that there are alot. I'm gonna learn more about them, their general design, purpose, etc., but I'll say right now that, so far, I don't really like the idea. It really seems to segment the city up in a way that makes it not friendly for pedestrians. That said, one thing they have going for them is that once you get inside the gate and the walls, they tend to be quieter. That's not to say that they're quiet, but that "-er" goes a long way. Tranquil would not be the word to describe Dilli Haat, far from it. But it did have a certain peace to it given that there was no motor traffic.
Anyway, more on that topic another time perhaps.
By the way, if there is anything I learned at Max Super Speciality Hospital it's that I love what I do for a living. I mean, when I posted on FB yesterday "Getting my geek on" or something to that effect, I really meant it. It's like I had a bar of soap and was trying to reconnect my shadow, but then Rohan and Agnibesh came along and stitched it to my toe, and now my geek and I are all happy and reunited.
Well, I did say Rohan was a surgeon.
I love language. Especially English, as it's the one I know. I also love signs, and wondering what (else) they could mean.
One of the things that got me to rewrite those brochures in Marrakech was the wonderful description of Ait Ben Haddou as being "one of the most gravitational places in Morocco".
So, people are attracted to it. Excellent.
When I was in Hauz Khas Village, so not the Hauz Khas market or residential colony, but still reasonably nearby if you're good at Frogger, I met a French journalist and translator who lives in Quito, Equador, and was visiting friends in Delhi. We got talking over momos (more on that in a sec) and were discussing the art of translation, and I told him the "gravitational" story. He laughed harder than anyone so far that I've shared that with. He also thought it had a certain poetry to it. Which admittedly it does. Certainly more poetry then what I replaced it with.
Anyway, he offered me a momo, which is a dumpling. It's not my friend Maureen, and it's not my friend Hussein. It's a dumpling.
The dumplings are delicious.
No comment on the other two.
These are two pictures from Hauz Khas.
On tippy-toes.
Definitely not the case for Old Delhi.
I've wandered about it a bit on my own, and I've wandered about it a bit with Rohan. Not photo-walk surgeon Rohan, but couch surfer network "Hi, I'm Christopher and I've got a place to stay but did you want to meet up and hang out a bit because I know no one in this city and you seem like a decent enough fellow based upon your profile" Rohan.
And he is so that's what we did.
And yes, I know two guys in a city of 20 million or so people and they're both named Rohan.
One of those times when it is best to just let the pictures explain it I think. Though one thing I will add.
You'll likely be seing lots more of Old Delhi as I expect I'll be there a couple more times. Old Delhi, aside from being home to all of the above and oh so much more, is also home to several significant old things that I am looking forward to seeing, again, once James arrives.
And just so we can all breath for a moment, here's a shot from my neighbourhood, Malviya Nagar, in the evening. It may look nice and serene, but what you don't see in this picture is what is behind me and nearly running me over even though I am hugged up to the fence that surrounds this neighbourhood park. I would by the way, have it no other way, so please do not take my comments on traffic as complaints, frankly, I think it's incredible. Stunning, confusing, overwhelming at times. Just incredible.
Anyway, I said it about Marrakech several times, and it's even more true for Delhi I think. Pictures cannot capture the energy and essence of this city the way that sound could. The sounds you might imagine go with the above Old Delhi pictures? Those sounds are the same ones that accompany this little bonfire.
So if a picture is worth a thousand words, what's 3 minutes and 30 seconds of audio worth?
Well, if the picture is by Annie Leibovitz, the words by J.K. Rowling, and the 3:30 of audio by Taylor Swift, then the market today would possibly say they'd all be worth about the same. These are just my pictures and words though, so they're probably not worth the paper they are printed on.
Which is saying something for a blog.
You'll get some calm next time.
No comments:
Post a Comment