My Love/Hate relationship with Delhi.

10 Things I love about living in Delhi:

1. There is always something to do. Whether it's a trip to a local monument or going for chai by the side of the road and people watching, you'll be bound to find something to do to wind down in your free time. 
2. Autos. As I've mentioned previously, I love autos. They're fast, cheap (if you're haggling is up to scratch) and usually pretty reliable. Autos are also a really good way of seeing the city as their open sides allow great views of the area you're travelling through. 
3. Food. Another thing I've mentioned before is that the food here is (typically) really good. There's a huge variety of foods from street food snacks to the richest banquets of food put on by families. There is always more than enough food which can be a little uncomfortable when you're expected to have three large meals per day but at least I have no desire to snack anymore! 
4. Shopping. In Delhi you can buy almost anything you want if you know where to look. Walk down almost any residential street and you'll find carts of fresh fruit and vegetables or if you need something more specific, head into your nearest market and you'll be surprised at what you can find. 
5. Practicality. In the UK, if your shoes start falling apart you'd take it as a sign to throw them out and buy new ones. Not here. Most residential areas have a cobbler at the side of the road somewhere. Give him your broken shoes, go about your errands, pop back later and they'll be good as new for the very reasonable cost of Rs5 (around £0.05) 
6. Tailoring. Can't find the perfect style of dress? Like a top but not the material? There's no need to worry. Here you can pick out the perfect fabric, design a top/blouse that you like and have it had made to fit perfectly for as little as Rs250 (around £2.50) 
7. Formal .v. casual. Going to an event and having to dress formally can often cause me to panic slightly; What should I wear? How formal is too formal? How much effort do I have to make with my appearance? Thankfully, here I can throw on some leggings, a Kurta (traditional dress/shirt), a nice shawl and some eyeliner and I'm ready to go. Perfect. 
8. Style. Due to the style of clothing here, you often can't tell the difference between pyjamas and
   trousers. This means I can easily walk around my local area in my PJs without anyone even noticing or
   
   caring.
9. Public holidays. In the UK we have 8 bank holidays per year (correct me if I'm wrong), here there are over 50 official and unofficial holidays therefore plenty of excuses for a celebration! 
10. Can't seem to kick that headache pounding inside your skull? How about some prescription strength pain killers? No need for an actual prescription, just call up you nearest pharmacy and they will deliver almost any medicine you can think of to your front door. Sorted.

  10 things I dislike about Delhi:

1. Water. I don't know why but it really irritates me that I can't drink tap water here.
2. Health. It would be nice to not have to worry about my health all the time, I have been advised to take some supplements (which I am doing) but I still remain unconvinced as to weather this is necessary or, to quote the great Sheldon Cooper, it is just "the ingredients for very expensive urine".
3. Rudeness. In public here, a lot of people don't seem to be aware of the concept of common courtesy. The worst culprits seem to be the older women. I'm all for giving my seat up to elderly people but I somehow feel a lot less willing when they demand that I give them my seat on the metro. I've also never been pushed around by so many old ladies before, they may look weak and frail but if you're in the way of what they want, you'd better brace yourself.
4. Lack of subtlety. This point should probably be grouped with the point above but It bugs me more than enough to qualify for a rant of it's own. Now, I understand that being a 5 foot 7 white girl in Delhi makes me stand out quite a bit, but does this mean that people have to stare quite so much? Maybe I sound like I'm being dramatic but this is the most un-subtle staring I've ever seen. Cars go past and every head (including the drivers) turns to stare as they drive by, People on motorbikes turn round to stare, rather than watching the road ahead, Jaws literally hang open. Surely I can't be that interesting!
5. Style. Three words: socks and flip-flops. Need I say more?
6. Buying clothes. When shopping for clothes here I have to put up with the extremely un-flattering calls of "don't worry, I have big sizes for you" and people trying to sell me huge items of clothing, then arguing with me that the correct size will be too small for me. Thanks but I think I'm capable of deciding what will fit me. I tend to finish shopping feeling pretty self concious to say the least.
7. Food options. I recently discovered that I have developed an intolerance to gluten, meaning that my options for food here have become pretty limited. I have never eaten so much rice in my life. My nightmares are haunted by the stuff!
8. Vegetarianism. I can't remember the last time I ate meat. I want a roast dinner.
9. Drinking culture. There is a very different drinking culture here than in the UK, unfortunately this means I can't just nip to the pub after work to chill out with my friends. In fact, I can't remember the last time I drank alcohol which feels pretty strange seeing as my friends in the UK are drinking themselves silly at uni.
10. Age. So, I recently turned 20, meaning I'm officially no longer a teenager. This, plus the fact that I've managed to move 5000 miles away from home by myself, gave me the impression that I should be treated as an adult. Clearly I was mistaken. For the first time in my life, I have a curfew. Yes, a curfew! 9.30pm! Also people often seem to assume that I can't do things for myself too. I decide to cook, people get shocked. I walk home in the dark, people worry. I offer to help, people look more than a bit perplexed at the idea. 

My room mates say I complain too much, which I blame on being British (it's what we do) so I thought I'd prove that though I can find plenty of things to complain about, there are so many things that I love about living in Delhi too. It's just as well really, I can't afford a flight back to the UK...

Big changes for all the family.

So, I am now officially part of a family of nomads. On 21^st September my parents took the final step towards being free from the shackles of responsibility by flying out to their new home in The Gambia. This plan is one that had been brewing since before I can remember, and even then I wasn't really aware of it until fairly recently. I've always realised, though not always consciously, that they haven’t been completely happy living ‘ordinary’ lives with jobs, responsibilities and a mortgage etc. So when their biggest (though obviously most delightful) responsibility, me, decided to move to India, they saw their opportunity to get out. After countless Skype meetings and plans ‘a’ through ‘q’ being conjured up and tossed aside, my parents finally had everything set into place. They booked their flights roughly a month after mine which, for me, meant that I managed to avoid almost all of the hassle of boxing up our belongings and selling the house! To find out more about how they’re coping in The Gambia and the work that they’re doing, visit their blog at http://dunlopmarshallwyce.wordpress.com/

Back to school

So, I've been living in Delhi for over a month now and I'm happy to say it feels completely normal. After taking a couple of days to get back into the swing of things, I haven’t really thought twice about the fact that my 19-year-old self decided to uproot, and move 5000 miles away from the only home I remember living in. My parents definitely played a big part in my decision as, without them, there’s no way I would have the confidence to be here right now. They have always been very supportive of whatever I have chosen to do in my life and they were very keen for me to come out here and have the best opportunities I can. “Fuck it, just go. Why the hell not” I believe were my father’s words on the matter. So here I am. Surrounded by great friends, with a really interesting job, in a country that never stops amazing and surprising me. What more could a girl ask for?

One thing I’d been really looking forward to ever since I started planning my return to Delhi, was visiting the school I worked at last time I was here. I couldn't shift the strange feeling in the back of my mind that the kids would have forgotten all about me by now. I needn't have worried. Not only did they remember me (I stepped in the gates and was swarmed with kids screaming “Jess didi! Jess didi!”), but they also managed to remember all the little things they used to wind me up about; mainly my very poor Hindi. I had organised to visit at the same time as the Teach for India fellow who led my volunteer project last time I was here, and who has taught me so much and played a massive role in my decision to come back to India (he is somewhat of a mentor but I'm yet to find a way of explaining this without sounding unbelievably lame!). By the time we had both arrived, the kids were well and truly bouncing off the walls and deep down I was too, though I had to pretend to be a grown up (until break time at least). After both observing and helping out in the lessons, I felt right back at home and it didn't half tug on my heartstrings when the kids asked if I would be coming back the following day. It was really great to visit the school and to see all the kids again and though it is no longer ‘my school’, it will always hold a place in my heart and feel a little bit like home.

Back where I belong

So 4 months on and I'm back in Delhi! 

After the usual cramped-up sleepless flight I arrived at Delhi airport to meet the taxi driver that my friend had booked for me to take me back to our accommodation. After struggling in the heat after a 5 minute walk to the car park with all my belongings strapped to my back, I swiftly drifted off to sleep to the familiar sounds of horns and shouting.

 After settling in to my accommodation (sharing a room with 2 other girls, one of whom I met on my last trip), my friend and I set off to surprise all of my other friends here in Delhi. For the last month or so I have had to lie to my friends about coming back to India, which was not easy, considering that at least once a day someone would ask me "when are you coming back to Delhi' to which my response was always "I'm not sure, probably mid September". Now, how I managed to keep this up for so long I don't know but it certainly paid off! Each time I jumped out of some obscure hiding place to surprise one of my friends, their faces froze in disbelief. To say the least, I found this hilarious!

 After finally surprising each of my friends we sat down for food and I instantly felt like everything was back to how it should be; In the country I love, with people I love and the food that I've missed. I have been in India for 2 days now and it still hasn't really sunk in yet. I'm sat in my room with our cooking lady sat on the floor gazing at me in bemusement and I really feel that this is where I'm meant to be (maybe without the eyes following me though!) Happy Independence day!

Life after India

So here I am, 1 month later, sat in my house in the great British countryside, with clean clothes, a working shower, drinking water straight from the tap, sat on a comfy sofa, with a glass of red wine in hand. This is everything I missed while I was away so why doesn’t it feel as great as I imagined? I find myself missing so much I never thought I would while I was there; the hustle and bustle of the streets and trying to avoid getting run over. Buying freshly squeezed orange juice at the side of the road on a hot day. The jolly old man who owned our local corner shop who must have thought we had the worst diets ever! Feeling like the coolest, most attractive person ever while walking down the street even when in reality you actually look dreadful. Having people in my apartment keeping me awake at night playing the world’s loudest game of snakes and ladders. Having to shower under a waist-high tap. Being able to walk to the shops in my pyjamas with my face covered in paint without anyone looking twice. Forcing 5 people into a 3-seater auto and getting dead legs. The noise (it’s so quiet here!). Having a large group of friends nearby, always up for doing something and willing to act as tour guides. Countless invites to family dinners. Walking into school and being mobbed by a group of kids who look up to me even though I don’t really know what I’m talking about most of the time. Finding surprise videos of the kids misbehaving on my camera. Just generally being adored, though I am probably just misinterpreting fascination and good hospitality.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is I BLOODY MISS INDIA!

Soppy farewells

It’s time to turn on the waterworks... again. After school had finished I had more time to hang out with the other volunteers and friends who I met during my trip. Because of this, saying goodbye was all the more difficult because of the strength of these friendships. I consider some of the friends I made on this trip better friends than many that I have had back in the UK. Now, I don’t consider myself to be much of a crier, though other people may disagree, but my goodbyes in India were major exceptions. This is the end of the most incredible life changing experience, how could I not cry?

After saying goodbye to our Indian friends and volunteers, we headed to the airport, had our last beedi (Indian cigarette) in the hot Indian sun and went to check in to our flight. Upon checking in, me and 2 of my friends were upgraded to premium economy, this definitely lifted our spirits! We were met on the flight with offers of champagne and an even nicer surprise when I looked up and saw Hugh Laurie coming out of the toilet. “Hey guys! Hugh Laurie just came out of the bog!”

After landing we had to do yet more goodbyes which was once again very difficult. I had to say goodbye to the people I had lived with for the last 3 months, they had been my support system and my family and now I was leaving them. So, here I am back in dull old England, freezing my arse off and crying on the train back to York. What a sight I must be!

My last 2 weeks at school

In the last weeks of school most of our work consisted of tying up loose ends and creating display boards presenting the work we had done throughout our project. Stepping back and looking at the work we’ve done gave me a real sense of achievement and I’m so proud of all that we’ve accomplished! It is one thing to design and create a garden and library within a school but it is something else entirely to see the kids faces when they’re climbing on the monkey bars or reading a book in clear English from the library. Most rewarding of all is hearing “thank you didi. I love our new garden” and lots more positive feedback from the children, that’s the real reason I was so passionate about this project, it’s all about doing things for the children that will hopefully be sustained after we leave.

My last day at school was an emotional one to say the least. The children showered me with homemade cards stating how beautiful and amazing I am! I also received a wonderful reference from the Teach For India fellows that managed to start off my waterworks. There is something very surreal about standing in front of a class of 40 children in India sobbing and trying to explain how I’m feeling in broken English so the kids will understand me. I have decided that the worst thing to hear when you’re crying is “Why you cry didi? When you cry, it makes us want to cry”.

I’ve had an incredible experience in this school, I have learnt so much about the world and myself and I consider this the most rewarding experience of my life and I’ll never forget it. (Right, that’s enough cheese for one day!)