Finally Out of Delhi

I realise it has been a while. This is because everything got screwed up on my agenda and Nothing has been happening for several days. Although it is extremely unlikely, and I would be inclined not to believe it could happen, we set two alarms for 5 am on the morning we were supposed to fly to Jabalpur to see some tigers. Lucky for the tigers, I was going to fight one. Anyway, no tigers/bitter disappointment. It also left us with a bit of a conundrum, since we had booked a bunch of tickets. Skipping past all the boring details (which took hours to evaluate) the only decision that made sense for our sanity and our budget was to stay in Delhi. Since we had already seen most of the sights, however, this basically involved a lot of playing cards. As I write, I have finally made it to Ahmedabad, in Gujarat province. In 11 hours, we will be in Porbander, where Ghandi and many of Raju's relatives were born. I bet I won't be able to post anything again until Mumbai. Following are some rather general observations.

Everyone Wants to Rip Me Off
From bums to businessmen and everyone in between. All sorts of people approach me "hello my friend how are you?" I try not to get my guard up, but I know what comes next. First, they ask where I'm from, then they ask whether I'm from Toronto or Vancouver and sometimes Montreal. Next, they try to sell me some of the most undesirable junk I've ever laid eyes on and act offended when I don't buy it because now we are friends.
Autorickshaw drivers employ different strategies. For example, if I'm walking, and an autoricksaw driver sees me, he will coral me much as a sheep dog corals his herd. This consists of running me into a corner. What follows is either a question, a nod or simply a stare. The idea being that I was craving an autorickshaw (and to be clear, you can't swing a dead cat in Delhi without hitting one) and they cracked the code and became a supplier for my demand. If I wanted an autorickshaw, I'd be in one. It sometimes seems as though they outnumber people in India's largest city.
Raju made the mistake of tipping one night at a bar. Since we had a few dead days in Delhi, we went back a few times. As soon as we came in the door, waiters jumped to point out empty tables in their section, they got into fights with each other over us, I bet if the place had been full they would have kicked someone out of their seats in order to have us in their section. This is all over about one Canadian dollar mind you. That was a dollar poorly spent.
When you call Canada, the phones here have displays listing the rate you pay, the time you've been talking and the amount you owe so far. A guy tried to rip me off on one of these too. I must have paid for such phone calls two dozen times since coming here. There is no trick. The display tells you what you owe and that's the end of the story. This bill came to 54 rupees, so I gave him a 100 rupee note. Then I stood there stupidly expecting change. Then he provides some cock and bull story mostly in Hindi (maybe he couldn't speak English, maybe) and draws three or four numbers on a piece of paper, and the numbers add up to a hundred and five. Then he puts out his hand. Then we argue for ten minutes, then I told him he was full of shit. He got my 46 rupees though.
Should you let sleeping Indians lie? No. Nor should you let them lie to you. I'll explain. You see, when a man is sleeping in his taxi in Canada (if ever a man does so) one might not be inclined to think that they would be ecstatic to be woken up so that they could make a two Canadian dollar fare. Such is not true in India. This does not change the fact that they will try to rip you off, however. How much money are you making while sleeping? None. Why then is there a 1500% mark up on the price?

An Interesting Street Fight
I saw two boys punching each other in the head. They were really fighting, so my instincts kick in and I pull them apart. Then their father?friend?MMA fan? waves his hand as if to suggest, Oh just let them fight. Everyone else concurred. So I walked away as they continued to pummel each other.

Sights Seen
I saw several sights in Delhi, nothing terribly inspiring. I saw the red fort; it's red, it's a fort. I saw the Parliamentary area, which includes the houses of a lot of political bigwigs like the PM, AG, Chief Justice and several diplomats. Huge houses, but still not jaw dropping. The coolest thing in Delhi was Ghandi Smitri, the place where Ghandi was shot. I'm rarely touched by such stuff, but Ghandi is one guy who evokes nothing but respect from me. It was eerie to stand where he was killed. Concrete footsteps lead to a two foot tall obelisk with one Hindi word (what word, I don't know) written on it. A fitting tribute to a modest man.

Anyway, My session expires in one minute, so I must go. Sorry about the lack of proofreading.