The Delhi Shuffle
July 22, 2012
Maybe 14, maybe 16 hours traveling by express train from Kolkata to New Delhi. When we arrive, the temperature tops 45 degrees C. We walk through the beeping, buzzing, broiling traffic to our hotel. A right turn down a thin street of huge neon hotel signs and a left into fly lane. I named it that, as the languidly floating flies greet us as we tuck our way along the lane to our hotel. There we discover that ‘my’ room is not ready yet, so I will temporarily stay in the lone room off of the lobby; 001. ‘It’s alright,’ they say as I enter the walk-in closet sized room, ‘you’ll stay here two days and then you get your room.’ Our whole stay is only three days long. I sleep well, although the AC kind of breathes cold air, rather than blows it. We awake to a 48 degree C day. That night I return to the hotel about 12 midnight. The lights in room 001 are flashing on and off and no AC. ‘They are working on the power line.’ So the desk managers tell me to go to room 108, which for some reason is on the third floor. A bit gritty this room, but decent. Still no AC. ‘They are working on the power line.’ I am not sure now if I am in room 001 or 108. They tell me to sleep in 108. Where do I leave my belongings, I wonder? ‘Stay in 001.’ But they take the key from me, so I say no, I will take everything to 108. After a time, the electricity jumps and the AC is on. A nicely cool night. In the morning, as I prepare for a shower, the showerhead breaks off in my hand. So I bath in a thick stream of water. Now I am told I can move to ‘my’ room; 101 (second floor). I check it out, and it appears to have a fairly new tile floor (will stay cool!), room to stretch out and just a few ink stains on the sheets. Ah, but an Indian toilet. Well, adventures never end. In the evening, I return to the room to cool off and get a last night’s sleep. However, the AC kind of promises the hope of cool air but never really delivers. So, sleepless and hot, I watch TV to pass the time. But the cable goes out. So I boot up the computer for a bit of writing, trying to remain still enough so that the hoped for cool air might actually reach out to me. Then the power goes out. I lay down, wondering if my sheen of sweat will dissolve the ink stains on the sheets. What good would this story be, however, if a promise didn’t deliver? After some time, the electricity returned and the AC actually turned a bit cool. I finally fell asleep and only woke up when my hosts came banging on the door with a noodle breakfast. The true ending is the train ride home when we were upgraded to first class AC…a truly delicious ride across India.