Ruminations upon Thursday January 23, 2025 in New Delhi, India
Our four-hour overnight flight from Tbilisi, Georgia to Delhi, India was fine. While the rest of the boys sort of slept, Matanel had the best sleep ever and woke up as if he’d slept a full night. He was bouncing and ready to go when we landed. Chaim and I were aching for sleep, our butts sore from staying still in the hopes that boys sleeping on our laps would sleep better if we avoided moving.
Prior to our arrival, Chaim had spent days trying to get us e-visas through the government of India’s website. According to the website we had everything we needed. Turns out, we did not. Exhausted, we plunged into filling out more paperwork whose purpose we could not ascertain. I was so tired, I had to redo the form I was completing four times before I got it right! Finally, we made it through customs and retrieved our bags. A driver was waiting for us, for which I was grateful after a long, sleepless night. I don’t think we could have handled managing public transportation or even waving down a taxi in the state we were in. Also, we had just come from freezing weather. Delphi was sixty degrees warmer! We were eager for warm weather, but we weren’t prepared to plunge into a steam room.
As we packed into our car, we were immediately accosted by two children begging for food and money. We had talked to the boys about the likelihood of this happening and how we prefer to donate money to a local organization than hand out money or food in this kind of situation. As heart wrenching as it was not to give these children food, we held steadfast while promising the boys that we would make sure to identify an organization dedicated to helping impoverished children and families.
As soon as we began driving we were plunged into Delhi traffic. It is just as mindboggling and overwhelming as described. Drivers turn two lanes into three. Three into five. Every car, motorcyclist, and rickshaw is mere inches from the person next to them. Traffic heads in multiple directions at medians, traffic lights (the few times there are traffic lights) serve more as suggestions, and honking is a way of saying “I’m here!” and constant. Honking is so prevalent there are areas that have signage dedicated to “no honking” zones. As I think about it now, driving in India is more akin to a “survival of the fittest” mentality than anything else.
We arrived at our small, “boutique” hotel by 8:30AM only to find out that we couldn’t check in until 2:00PM. We were exhausted and Eitan was quickly falling apart. They invited us downstairs for breakfast where Eitan promptly fell asleep on a couch. As an Indian food lover, I was ecstatic. There were so many vegan options I gorged myself on delicious potatoes, sambar soup, rice, and more. While we ate, a TV with live news played. Matanel and Shai couldn’t take their eyes off the TV, which was showing real time images from Israel, Gaza, the hostages, the Syrian Army, and more. Oy! Although we talk to the boys about what is happening in the world, we avoid showing them images. All of our efforts to keep some of the tragic and scary images away from them were upended in an instant. Exhausted from our travels, neither Chaim nor I could muster any strength to distract the twins from the news. We were simply too tired and hoped they would get bored and switch focus after a while. Our plan didn’t work, but the images didn’t seem to terrify them as much as we expected.
Since our rooms wouldn’t be ready for another few hours, we decided to take a half-day tour and see the sights. We left our bags in the lobby where the lobby attendant assured us they would remain under their watch and safe until we returned. A driver picked us up and took us to Qutub Minar, where we met our tour guide Taroon. Quitab Minar is a former Hindu temple that was conquered, destroyed, and then turned into a Muslim fortress with a stunning minaret built at the turn of the 13th century. The Hindu temple was built much earlier than that. Taroon taught us about Hinduism, Buddhism, and the history of different foreigners pillaging India – beginning with the Muslims in the 12th-13th century and ending in British colonialism.
While exploring, we passed what seemed like hundreds of school children on field trips. The boys noticed that the girls kept giggling whenever they saw us. Some would say hello and get excited when we waved or said hi back. This confused the boys who asked us what was happening. We explained that one of the reasons is because we look different. They didn’t really understand how looking different would cause someone to act this way. It was an important introduction into different cultural ways. Sadly, at one point, Shai came up to me visibly upset. When I asked him what happened he told me two of the schoolboys hit him on the head. I never saw it happen and felt terrible that my child had been harassed right under my nose. We walked a few minutes together, holding hands, to make sure he felt okay before he ran off again.
From the Qutab Minaret, we stopped at a hotel hosting several wedding parties simultaneously. In fact, the largest hall can hold 3,000 guests. According to Taroon, and others we spoke with, a guest list of 1,500 is completely normal in India. My brain broke. The halls were decorated with swaths of flowers in bright oranges, pinks, yellows, greens, reds, and purples were beautiful. The clothes were jaw dropping. At one point the power went out. Not a single person seemed phased by this. The party just kept going. We learned that power outages are a common occurrence in India. Later, we learned that weddings occur at all hours of the day and night in India depending on what an astrologer determines to be the most auspicious time for the couple. That means weddings can start at 2:14AM!
Last, Taroon took us to a hand rug store. The owner, who entered the business as a child prior to child labor laws being implemented in India, taught us how the rugs are woven by hand using an old, ancient technique with a special loom with one string strung at a time. The rugs can take anywhere from six months to four years to make! The business supports local villages by employing villagers as weavers. He loves his work and the rugs are indescribably beautiful. There was one rug with a silk mandala, peacock, mandala museum inspired rug that I wished we could have afforded. and sent home. It iswas absolutely gorgeous with shimmering, bluish-green hues that are out of this world. Although demand for these rugs is growing, sadly he predicts that the industry will be obsolete in eight to ten years because there is no interest by the younger generation in entering this line of work. In his words, the younger generation is “lazy” and wants to find work with more immediate gratification.
By the end of our visit to the rug store, we were all falling on our faces eager for rest and sleep. We asked Taroon to take us back to the hotel, which seemed to disappoint him. Thankfully, when we returned to the hotel our luggage was right where we left it. We settled into our two rooms, each with one large bed for three of us to share. We spent the rest of the evening resting, doing screen time, and trying to do schoolwork. The boys and I camped in one room while Chaim held meetings in the other.
After such a long day, everyone fell right asleep wondering what the next day would bring.
