The saga of Friday January 24, 2025 through Saturday January 25, 2025 in New Delhi, India
The morning of my 43rd birthday no one remembered it was my birthday, but me. I didn’t mind. I was just happy to be in India with my family on my birthday. It was a dream come true. Everyone else was still recovering from our lengthy travel experience, two sleepless nights, and the previous day’s busy touring schedule. The boys were in the middle of completing some journal entries when Amichai asked me what day it was. It was cute watching him slowly realize it was my birthday. Immediately, he led his brothers in a birthday song followed with lots of hugs and excitement about my birthday. It was the perfect start to the day. Chaim packed us up while the boys finished their schoolwork. Then, we were off for another day of exploring Delhi.
A new driver picked us up and began driving…somewhere. We literally had no idea where we were going, what we were going to be doing, what we were going to be seeing. We were at the whim of the tour company we had used to schedule a driver and tour guide. A situation that was not ideal for our family. Ninety minutes into the drive and almost at the Qutab Minar, our driver connected with our new tour guide, Manish, who told him he was going the wrong way because we’d already been to that site. An hour later, the driver picked up Manish who took us to see Old Delhi. The time in the car was painfully long, but allowed us to rest, which was a blessing in disguise.
In Old Delhi, Manish explained that the Red Fort was closed due to preparations for India’s Republic Day celebrations. We admired it from the outside and then walked into the center of Old Delhi where Manish hired bicycle pulled rickshaws for us to travel through the streets. The boys thought it was an incredible experience and marveled at the traffic. Pedestrians, cars, rickshaws, bicycles, and animals traveled two-ways on streets that we thought were only wide enough to be one-way. Crossing the street without causing a traffic jam or accident required quick, strategic planning and a lot of luck. Matanel and Amichai noted that the air quality and packed space made it hard to breathe both physically and metaphorically.
Manish stopped our rickshaw drivers so we could sample the local spices and nuts. We bought delicious golden raisins, walnuts and pistachios, knowing they would help keep our children going when food options were scarce. The boys were blown away by the quality of the raisins and nuts and scarfed them down. They noted that it felt like we were walking through the Indian version of Machane Yehudah in Jerusalem. We hopped back into our rickshaws to drive to the garment district. There, Manish led us through alleys and a covered area where we saw gorgeous dresses and many brides to be ordering their gowns. Manish explained February was wedding season in January and February and that many of these stores would close after the season ended and reopen for the next wedding season. We walked until we reached a jewelry retailer. The jeweler taught the boys about the different stones, giving them a chance to feel how heavy silver is in its raw form. We left before we could be ushered into the shop and guilted into buying something.
We took our rickshaws to the chai (literally meaning tea) and restaurant area. Manish brought us to a fantastic chai vendor who has been there for over one hundred years. Interestingly, they serve the chai in small earthenware pots that are then recycled. It was the perfect way to celebrate my birthday.
We finished our time in Old Delhi with a visit to Jama Masjid, where we had to put on special coverings to ensure we were properly dressed and take off our shoes before entering the mosque’s main square. This was the first time I had ever had the opportunity to visit a mosque. As non-Muslims we couldn’t go inside, but the square itself was overwhelming and impressive, teeming with visitors. People kept staring at us, waving at us, and stopping us to take pictures with them. At first, we agreed because we felt it was the polite thing to do, but it quickly became annoying and unpleasant, so we began declining requests. Again, the boys were completely confused as to why people wanted to take pictures with us. Overwhelmed, we left the masjid after only fifteen minutes of exploring. When we asked Manish about this cultural habit, he explained that foreigners, especially those who look like us with lighter hair and/or lighter skin, are often treated like celebrities here. People in India are eager to welcome us and show their friends and family pictures of the visitors they met. The boys understood the idea, but did not like it. Coming from America where we are constantly talking to our children about consent to photograph and video, they felt uncomfortable with the idea of strangers taking photos of them. After talking with Manish and the boys, we decided as a family to make a point of declining future requests.
From Old Delhi we drove to the Gandhi Museum. The boys have learned a lot about Gandhi, including reading the I Am Gandhi book, from the I AM series, multiple times over the last several years. They were curious to see where he lived and learn more about him. At the museum we saw his last steps, where he prayed for the last time, where he was shot, and the room he stayed in until he died. The room still contained his bed, loom, and sandals, among other personal belongings. The boys were mystified by how little Gandhi possessed and how hard his sandals looked. They couldn’t believe he walked miles in those shoes. Unfortunately, we couldn’t peruse through the museum for as long as we liked because we needed to get back to our hotel in time to move to the Chabad House hotel for Shabbat.
Before parting with Manish, he invited us to his upcoming wedding as it is custom in India to invite clients to celebrations. Sadly, we had to decline, but it would have been a very cool and enlightening experience to attend a wedding in India.
The Chabad House is located in Khan Market, a happening area frequented by backpackers and lots of Israeli travelers. Half the stores have Hebrew writing and plenty of vendors shouted “shalom” and “shabbat shalom” at us. Later we learned that the owners only included Hebrew to try to attract Israeli clients. They don’t really know Hebrew. When we arrived at the Chabad House, there was a security vehicle with two security guards in it blocking the entrance. We had to ask them to move so we could unload our bags and enter, which we hoped did not offend them. Thankfully, they moved without issue. Once inside, we presented our passports and answered some security questions. Once inside, we were shown our rooms. Two twin beds and a floor mattress in each room. Chaim and I decided we would take the floor mattresses to avoid possible fighting among the boys. We settled in quickly and then got ready for Shabbat. After staying in so many places a thirty-minute to an hour walk from Chabad, the boys were grateful to be just one flight up. No long walks in hot weather this Shabbat.
Downstairs, we davened/prayed and enjoyed a meal with about thirty other guests, all Israeli. Some of the guests had just been released from serving in the army, some were at the Nova Festival on October 7. Their stories were both harrowing and inspiring. Everyone prayed for the hostages to be released and brought home as quickly as possible.
The food was scrumptious, with excellent salmon of which Matanel couldn’t get enough. That boy ate like a pig! While eating, we had the opportunity to speak with some fellow travelers, Nadav a backpacker and Tziona. Tziona’s story was a testament to flexibility and bureaucracy. She had come to India to help a friend. Her flight back to Israel was scheduled for exactly thirty days after her arrival. Unfortunately, her flight was delayed and the next flight wasn’t until the next day. This put Tziona in a pickle. Her visa had expired, leading the Indian government to revoke her ability to leave India until she had her papers in order. The Chabad rabbi was already working on her situation for several days before we arrived. I asked Tziona if she was worried. She was so upbeat and pleasant about the whole thing. She said she knew it would all work out and wasn’t worried at all. Just had to be patient. An important lesson for all. Don’t mess with India’s visa expectations. If you do, remain upbeat like Tziona and assume all will work out in the end. (The next night, the rabbi confirmed that Tziona would be able to fly out on Sunday without issue.)
At 11:00PM we got ready for bed, just in time to hear fireworks and lots of music blasting on the streets of Khan Market.
The next morning, we slept in until 11:00AM. Worried that we were going to miss davening/prayers we rushed downstairs only to find out there was no minyan/quorum of ten men and davening hadn’t even started. Amichai spent the time practicing for his bar-mitzvah, showing off for one of the visiting rabbis who was impressed. The other boys played balloon soccer, and I said Tehillim/psalms since the Chabad rabbis said it was customary to say Tehillim on Shabbat M’varchim. They finally started davening at 12:30PM. Without a minyan they flew through services. Lunch started at 1:00PM. As we’ve become accustomed to, there were far fewer people at lunch than at dinner. We sat with Rabbi Yisrael, the visiting rabbi. He was great with the boys, testing them on their Jewish knowledge and sharing jokes with them.
With a few hours still left until the end of Shabbat, we decided to go for a walk through Khan Market. It turned out to be a very short walk. The air quality was so bad that our lungs and eyes stung. We couldn’t stop anywhere lest vendors accost us by shouting Hebrew words at us with the hope that we would buy goods from their shops. And the stray dogs were everywhere. After twenty minutes all of the boys begged to return to Chabad where they could resume playing balloon soccer and breathe again.
After Shabbat ended, we ordered schnitzel from the Chabad restaurant. Matanel and Shai devoured it. Then, we tried sending everyone to sleep by 8:00PM because we had to leave for the airport at 3:30AM. The twins fell asleep by 9:00PM, but Chaim and I were wide awake. A good thing because I received a text from our driver at 11:00PM saying we had to leave at 2:45AM not 3:30AM because he was concerned about traffic due to Republic Day. Had we been asleep, we would have completely missed that! Unfortunately, Shai and Matanel both awoke at midnight and then at 1:00AM, just as I was trying to nap. They struggled to go back to sleep. I worried about how the next day would go with such lack of sleep.
