On the Metaphysical Nature of Driving Lanes and Intravenus Chai

10 days is too long in between posts, Alex.
I know. I wanted to write earlier, but I have been very busy.
Busy doing what? I expect you have something to show for your flagrant disregard of communicatory etiquette.
Well...
Well?
Actually, no. I have nothing.
To the dungeon with you!

++++++

Driving here is not like driving anywhere else I have ever been. I always pitied those poor souls who have to learn to drive in NYC. I had never been to Delhi. Of course, so many people here just buy their drivers licenses that learning isn't really an issue... The fact is that I wouldn't be surprised if 90% of drivers in Delhi bought their drivers licenses. Yesterday. But maybe that's not fair. I certainly couldn't navigate the insanity that is our daily commute in a car or car-like creature. Lanes here are truly an amorphous and undefinable thing. They don't really...mean anything. So it actually takes an intense amount of concentration and dexterity to drive without crashing, not to mention avoiding the unconcerned pedestrians and people walking around cars trying to sell bobble-head dogs and head scratchers (apparently there is a large market for these things here).

Honking too is a different story in Delhi than in the United States. Constant honking. All the time. It's necessary though, for the most part. Because when you and your fellow drivers aren't driving under the collective understanding that you will stay in your lane and the next car will do the same, you have to let other cars know where you are. People don't honk because they're mad. In the states, you look at someone hoking their horn and see the steam pouring out of their ears. Here, you look over at a driver who has just been laying on the horn and see him staring contemplatively out at the writhing sea of cars, people, cows, dogs... There may be a lesson to be learned here, but I'm not quite there yet. I'll let you know when I figure it out.

++++++

Last weekend we went to Amritsar, a city in the state of Punjab and home to the Golden Temple and the Indo-Pakistani border. This post will not be about that trip. It will be about the ensuing week of insanity and sleep deprivation. I like to keep this blog for the most exciting, exotic, and impressive topics. Obvi, as my friend Erika would say.

We got home, after a 6 hour train ride, at 11PM. Exhausted from a weekend of non-stop touristing, I went to bed around 1 AM, and was up at 6:45 to catch a rickshaw to school by 7:30. A combination of a hefty amount of reading, starting the week out tired, and not having down/homework time over the weekend turned the week into something closer to heavy-lidded sleepwalking than living. Tuesday morning we had to get up early to go to our first yoga class. I distinctly remember thinking as I was putting on my clothes, I wish I could have some chai right now. I don't want to drink it though, I need it to be administered intravenously, straight into my veins. Instant gratification, warm trickely feeling all through my body, that would be good. Should I be worried?

NOTE: You'll all be glad (I think...) to know that we got a break on Friday. Hindi (morning) class was canceled, and we didn't have any other homework. I slept for 11 hours. Mmmmmmmm.