Shoe Repairs and Chai Tea

On the warm nighttime drive from Delhi airport, we passed cows resting on the road and a cyclist on the motorway. The old brick buildings with crumbling plaster reminded me of Morocco. There were dogs everywhere. Apparently they form vicious packs at night, but during the day they seem sweet and docile. Still, we know not to touch them.

We have arrived in India. It is a country I have long dreamed of visiting. It is famed for its exotic, rich culture. Spices, saris, sitars. Bollywood and "off shore" call centres. Travelling here is said to be both difficult and deeply rewarding. After the ease of negotiating Japan and South Korea the past several months, I was anxious that my travel street smarts had atrophied through lack of use. However, many of my fears have been unfounded because our first two days in India have been amazing. Thanks to the country's colonial past, people speak excellent English. I'm having so much fun joking with the locals, something which was very difficult in northeast Asia where we had no shared language. Peter and I have been enjoying Delhi's markets, enlivening hustle bustle, beautiful historic buildings and of course the delicious food. To avoid being taken for easy targets by scam artists, we told anyone who asked that we'd already been in India for "several weeks" and even that this was our third visit to the country (lies, all lies). However, yesterday really was our very first day in India. The following is an account of our first day.

"Your shoe is broken," said a voice from the ground.
"Yes, I know," Peter said. "I will fix it," said the streetside cobbler. When you spend hours of every day walking, as we do, your shoes take a real beating. A few days earlier in South Korea, the leather strap of Peter's hiking sandal separated from the base of the shoe. I joked that someone in India would be able to mend it for him.

"How much?" We asked the cobbler. He had set up shop on the ground in a market with a small arsenal of tools, polish and a bag of leather scraps. He turned Peter's shoe over in his hands.
"Ten Rupees," he said. We were amazed. Ten Rupees is US$0.22.
"Can you really fix it?" We asked. The man assured us he could.

We squatted beside him and watched. As the craftsman expertly glued and stitched a new piece of leather to the broken strap, he told us he has fixed shoes for 30 years. He has four children. He is not originally from Delhi, but I did not recongise the name of his hometown. Carefully, he prized the sole away from the inner and wrapping sturdy string around a hooked implement, punctured through the layers of leather and rubber and deftly stitched the strap back into the shoe. The workmanship was staggering to watch.

He wanted to polish the shoes with sandpaper and rebuild the scuffed sole, for an additional fee of course. But Peter declined, explaining they'll only get dirty and rescuffed again. Considering the amount of filth in Delhi's streets, it would only take a matter of days. However the man did apply a little glue to the other shoe, so we thought fifteen Rupees was fair. We paid with the exact amount which neatly ended any further negotiations.

Next we visited Jama Masjid, one of India's largest mosques. Admission is free, but if you want to bring your camera in with you, it will cost 200 Rupees (US$4.35). It seems like a disproportionately large amount to take a few photos, but it was a moot point for us as we'd decided to explore without our camera. We wanted to be a little less conspicuous on our first day. The mosque was nothing short of stunning. The grand, domed roofs were reminiscent of the Taj Mahal. Food was set out for pigeons in the central square and they frequently took flight, decorating the negative space between the scalloped archways. We climbed the narrow minaret for a view of the old town. The buildings are all short and squat, so the minaret towered above them. A little ways off we spotted the Red Fort, a sprawling rust coloured structure.

Between the mosque and the Red Fort is a bazaar which sells bric-a-brac and religious paraphernalia. Piles of cheap watches were submerged in paddling pools as proof they are water-resistant.

Hot and tired, we stopped at one of the market's chai tea stands. Glasses were lined up and the vendor poured a messy cascade of tea down the row from on high. The tea was poured through a net which filtered out the leaves and spices which looked like coffee grounds. Sugar was heaped in along with dollops of foam. The sweet drinks revived us. A cup cost 5 Rupees (US$0.11).

Beautifully dressed women in saris came to the counter to beg. Appearance seems to be very important and even beggars are tidy and well presented. They transferred a fistful of coins to a friend and begged with only two coins in their open palms. As routinely as pouring chai, the tea vendor doled out a one Rupee coin to each.

For dinner we went to a simple, brightly lit restaurant which was so packed there were no free tables. We asked two local men if we could sit with them. One said it was fine and gave a friendly Indian head wiggle. We ordered a vegetable thali, (a selection of different curries and flat breads on a platter like a painter's palate) and Kashmere paneer, one of the day's specials which turned out to be a wonderfully smoky curry with onions and cheese. As we ate, the place became even more crowded with families waiting for tables and ordering take away. No surprise the restaurant was a big hit, the food was incredible. Curiously, throughout the entire meal, the men at our table did not say a word to each other.

"Do you think we cramped their style?" I asked Peter after they'd left.
"No," he said. I guess they just didn't feel like talking.

Our bill for two mains and two sodas came to US$5.50. On a good day, this is what we would have paid in South Korea for one main and the food would not have been any where nearly as enjoyable. I think I am going to like India quite a lot.

On the way out of the restaurant, plodding along the dark street with the autorickshaws and buses, I spotted an elephant.

-Delhi, India