Delhi Baby!

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Saturday January 17th 2009 - ATD
I woke from bed with a start, feeling an excitement about the upcoming adventure stirring within me. Today would be an adventure at least, and hopefully shape our next couple of years by leading me into a job in an international school. So, leaving my beautiful brand-spanking new wife nestled in bed, I made my way out into the foggy Delhi morning. I had arranged the night before for a taxi to take me to my destination: the Taj Palace hotel. On arrival at the hotel I offered the driver the sum we had agreed for the trip, which was very generous for a short ride. Perhaps, on seeing the caliber of hotel he was dropping me at, he decided that I was rich and therefore should be able to pay a backheesh (tip). I refused, whereupon he got very angry and began to rant loudly through rotten teeth about a backheesh. I was beginning to worry a little, when from behind me stepped a burly doorman, dressed in the full regalia of a high ranking soldier of the British Raj. He deftly lifted the irate driver with his white gloves and deposited him bank near his car. The doorman calmly turned and produced a glowing smile from underneath his handle bar moustache. Trying not to be ruffled by this confrontational episode I entered the hotel, only to find that I had been dropped at the wrong place! ”Not to worry”, I was told by a concierge with a clipped French-Indo accent, “the Taj is just next door”.
‘Next door’ turned out to be a fifteen minute walk down the main road of the diplomatic enclave. The enclave is manned at all entrances by heavily armed soldiers, and contains an army base, ensuring that it is crawling with soldiers. This made the walk a pleasant time to catch my breath and focus on the day ahead, shielded from the real India. On the way I passed a large troupe of Indian army cavalry cantering down the street in full ceremonial attire, I found out later on that they were in final preparations for the Republic Day celebrations on January 26th.
When I finally arrived at the correct hotel, I was amazed by the opulence of the huge foyer. Brimming with marble and gold and adorned with crossed polo sticks, I truly felt I had stepped out of India and into another world. I found my way downstairs to a place where several other candidates were waiting for the teacher meat-market to begin. At 8 am on the dot the doors swung open and we entered a room lined with tables. On each table was stuck paper saying which school was represented and which positions they had vacant. Behind the tables sat the recruiters. I did a quick lap to decide which schools I was interested in, and arranged three interviews for the day. I was worried by the small amount, but consoled myself with the thought that there was no point going for jobs I wasn’t keen on, and that I would find a job even if it wasn’t at this fair.
My first interview calmed my nerves considerably. I was lucky enough to be interviewed by a relaxed Aussie from Sunshine in Melbourne, who immediately put me at ease and assured me he was as uncomfortable with this process as me. Our view for the interview was spectacular, overlooking the hazy Delhi skyline from an 8th floor premium suite. His school was in Indonesia, located on an island near Bali, accessible only by seaplane. Everything about the school sounded good, save for the fact that due to the current world economic situation, he couldn’t assure me that a job actually existed.
Buoyed by the first interview, I strode more confidently into my second, with a school in India. This also went well, and the job included work for Alexia. My third and final interview was with a school in Saudi Arabia. This also went very well. By chance the recruiter from Saudi was a Scotsman who had only a couple of weeks prior been in Adelaide enjoying some wines in the Barossa! A small world. Now I was left in the position of being interested in all three of the jobs. Each one would be a great adventure and challenge. I needed some wise counsel.

ABD - Meanwhile, in a much lesser posh establishment, I was trying to pack up some smart clothing, as I was checking into the Taj Palace at 12pm. I nervously realized that my backpacking collection of apparel was completely inappropriate and started to panic slightly. My mother, being a mobile clothing boutique and my Alice having a mini shoe shop in her suitcase saved the day! The two of them dressed and undressed me as if I where a window mannequin until they where pleased with the result. My mother stuffed her small trolley bag with more clothes and they both ushered me into the car that was already waiting down stairs. I felt like Cinderella, once again, completely transformed into this lady like, posh looking woman. Andrew had called as we where driving down the streets of Delhi towards the Hotel, to inform me excitedly about the three options that lay ahead. There was a lot of happy chitter chattering in the car when I shared the news with my mother and friend. The girls made a fuss over me as soon as we pulled up in front of the Taj Palace, clicking away with their cameras just to ensure this moment was well documented. A porter relieved me of my bag and my gorgeous husband met me at the top of the staircase as I entered the glistening foyer - ABD

ATD - My ever-reliable wife duly arrived, gracefully sauntering up the stairs and looking completely at home in the grandiose setting. We sat down and excitedly discussed each of the possibilities. Deciding to enjoy what was left of the afternoon and our extremely expensive hotel room, we headed up to the 3rd floor and prepared ourselves for the cocktail party which would be taking place on the hotel lawns that evening. To my delight there was a live Australian Domestic Cricket game on television: NSW vs. Vic. Ah, the wonders of globalization!

ABD - The cocktail party proved to be our culinary savior. Starving, as we could really not afford to pay ridiculous amounts of money for a plate of chips, we where thrilled to find that the white gloved waiters where not only handing out beautiful glasses of red wine and deliciously chilled beer, but also an array of finger food ranging from , sole fish, to chicken kebabs and mini quiches. Andrew and I where treated like the star attractions, as various people from schools all over the world, whizzed around us and congratulated us on our wedding. It was the first week after the event, as a matter of fact, we had out one week anniversary right there on the lawns of a 5 star plus, hotel. Ian, the man from the Saudi school, reminded me of a hawk mother, circling over her babies and making sure no other vulture would snatch them away. He wanted Andrew to join his school, badl,y and he didn’t hide the fact from anyone. When the man that runs the school in India that had also made Andrew an offer, was introduced to me by my husband, Ian did not hesitate to come over and join our little circle saying “He is signing with me”. I was quite surprised by the directness, yet not in the least surprised by my husbands’ success. I was certain that the world would be at his feet and surely enough, I was absolutely right.
Both of us where really keen on the Indonesian school, the thought of living on an Island close to Bali, the weather, the people, the food, the dream, excited us both so much. Unfortunately we soon realized that there was no position at that school at the moment due to the economic crisis. We were shattered.
Coming back to our room, mildly tipsy and after having smoked a cigarette in the parking lot (you are not allowed to smoke anywhere inside the Taj!!) we both lay exhausted on the King sized bed and analyzed the pros and cons of each one of the offers.
What we wanted, was not available, what we felt we needed to do from a humanitarian point of view, was tempting but yet we felt that the timing was not quite right. So we where left with something that didn’t really fill our hearts with joy and enthusiasm, yet it felt right and it would open up many doors in the future.
We decided to sleep on it and I soon drifted off underneath the white sheets, resting my spinning head on four fluffy duck feathered pillows, not knowing that my husband would not be able to sleep a wink that night. ABD


Sunday 18th January
ABD
We woke up and the decision was made. Saudi Arabia.
As we head down to breakfast, we where happy with our choice. Confident in our decision and looking forward to the new adventure ahead.
Breakfast was everything I had hoped it would be. There was everything and anything one can imagine on offer. From 10 different varieties of juices and shakes, to yoghurts, caramel cream, brownies and other delightful cakes, fresh fruit, 20 different types of cheese, cold cuts, at least 15 different types of pastry another dozen types of bread rolls, bread varieties, baked beans, five different types of egg, mushrooms, chips, mashed potato, every type of cereal and nuts under the sun, fresh veggie, gorgeous coffee, I could go on and on and on……And I did. I went on and on and on, even as Andrew left the Breakfast room to go and sign his contract with Ian, I kept going back to the buffet. The Indian Times where a super special treat, with the Sunday edition containing glossy celebrity magazines. My eye fell on the front page of the paper. The Dalai Lama was in Delhi and had stated at last nights press conference that he loved Bush. What seemed to be a reason for the papers to fuss about, didn’t strike me odd in the least. What I suddenly realized was that the Dalai Lama was in Delhi at the exact same time we where. Possibly that meant that my uncle Michael, a trusted friend of the Dalai Lama and his devoted student, was also here. I called my mother and informed her. She and Alice sounded really excited about our new life in Saudi and where already on their way to pick us up from the hotel.
Andrew came back moments later with a big bottle of red Tuscan wine in his hand and an even bigger smile on his face! I hugged my gorgeous husband and congratulated him on his new job. He jokingly mocked my newly pilled up plate that was resting in front of me and went to get himself some dessert. “Guess what babe” he said as soon as he came back to the table “the Dalai Lama is staying in this hotel” I couldn’t believe it! “and apparently he gave the press conference here last night at the same time we where at the cocktail party” I gasped! The atmosphere was super charged with excited energy and we enjoyed the luxury of a clean surrounding to celebrate.
We left the Taj Palace after my mother and Alice insisted we have another iced coffee and some sweets in the foyers café. I was a little sad to leave the beautiful Taj Palace, that had been the host for our bodies, souls and minds in this turning point in our new life together. The doorman smiled, the car door opened and in we went, all four of us, leaving the dream behind.
The same day we went to visit the Baha’i’s Lotus Temple in New Delhi. It was something that Andrew wanted to do ever since his student at ASSOE had told him about it. We spent a good few hours there, some in the actual temple which welcomes multifaith prayer and a few hours more in the museum/gallery, which gives an insight to the Baha’i faith and also the architecture of the actual temple. It reminded me very much of the Sydney opera house. The same shell inspired deconstructive pattern repeated over and over, forming the final building. Even the interior seemed to be inspired if not directly copied from the interior of the Sydney Opera House. I firmly believed that the architect of both was one and the same, yet the guide at the temple informed me otherwise.
After the Baha’i temple visit we made our way to Dili Haat, the arts and crafts market in Delhi. A shopper’s paradise, with minimum haggling and very clean surroundings, unlike any other market we had ever been to before, Dili Haat offers yummy food and gorgeous artifacts. As the strangest coincidences always seem to happen to us, it was not long before we bumped into Adam and Bek who had also come to Delhi and where on their way to Agra, as we where, in a few days. It was so good to see them but they couldn’t stay long as they where meant to go and watch the movie “Australia” with their hosts. Anabelle was not with them, she was left to play happily with her new little friend, the daughter of the family that hosted the Browns in Delhi.
We returned to our not so swanky hotel again that night and slept like little babies.


Monday the 19th of January 2009
ABD
We visited the Jama Masjid in Old Delhi this morning. Old Delhi, once the capital of Islamic India, is now an unruly, filthy part of the world and there is nothing to remind one of its former glory.
The Mosque is the largest in India and according to the otherwise useless Lonely Planet, “it is the final architectural magnum opus of Shah Jahan”
We entered the Jama Masjid on our second attempt, later that afternoon, when the prayer was over and paid the shoe minder to watch our sneakers. Andrew had to wear a lungi type skirt to be allowed in and we purchased a pair of very expensive lycra socks, for me to wear as we strolled around the Jama Masjid’s cold stone floor.
The building was very impressive a “magnum opus” alright, it gave the visitor an incredible sense of awe and a taste of Mughal India. The building had obviously been taken care of and restoration seemed to be going on around the main dome as it was covered in scaffolding (a usual thing for Andy and me, most monuments we visit together seem to be covered in scaffolding!)
The impressive inner courtyard is said to hold up to 25.000 pilgrims and the Jama Masjid is a fully functional mosque to this day.
We climbed the Southern Minaret that is open to the public, the tunnel like humid dark staircase of over a thousand steps becoming quite the mission and took in the incredible view of the city from the tiny marble platform. There where thousands of people walking on the streets below, an unbelievable mixture of brand spanking new cars dodging horse carts, cows, chickens, goats and bicycle rickshaws carrying everything from toilet seats to fire wood and coconuts. The constant beeping and shouting, the smell of masala mixed with urine and fumes seemed only half as intimidating if not a bit charming from above.
Our next stop was Chandi Chawk, the famed bazaar of Old Delhi that was said to once have a river flowing through it but had nowadays been modernized by cementing that same river to widen the road. In William Dalrymple’s book “City of Djins” , an account of Delhi’s history, Chandi Chawk features as a magical, charming bazaar, a haven of smells and colors, nothing of which is present in today’s version.
A real disappointment, Old Delhi has lost all its mysticism and replaced the once famous Mughal architecture with concrete, characterless monstrosities.
We continued on to Gandhi’s Memorial, a square black marble platform, which marks the place where the Mahatma was cremated following his assassination in 1948.
The place was crawling with “organized” tourists and many of them stood weeping in front of the platform amidst the vast gardens of Raj Ghat. The air was getting chilly and we strolled arm in arm back to the car where Alice and Maya where already waiting.
That evening we had dinner in the revolving restaurant “Parikrama” and took in the views of Delhi by night from above. Our staple diet of Palak Panner and Chicken Tikka Masala, with Naan, Rice and Raita went down well with a few Gin & Tonics to many. We stumbled into our hotel a few hours later, exhausted from a great day of sightseeing and very excited about Agra the next day, when we would finally get to see the monument of all monuments, the incessantly revered Taj Mahal!

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Photos

Job Interview
My gorgeous Husband all set to go to the recruitment fair. The photo is blurry cause im half asleep

The Taj Palace
Andrew, Maya, Alexia and Alice having very expensive frappucccinos!

Bahaii Lotus Temple
Check out the expression on Andy's face! We are pumped with Saudi!

Bahaii Lotus Temple
Putting on his "Teacher" face

Looking down from the Minaret
Jama Masjid