I've got to admit, it's getting better. .
Trip Start Jan 27, 2008
30Trip End Apr 06, 2009
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After a course of powerful antibiotics, a number of nights of codeine-enhanced sleep, and plenty of fresh juice, the plague in my chest is finally retreating. It's a real "mo-fo" of an illness, and there is nary a person here in Delhi that doesn't have it in one form or another. I guess when you let bacteria and viruses run loose in the air like cows and dogs in the street it's only a matter of time before they make their way into the soft tissues of the respiratory tract.
I'm one of the lucky ones though, with only what could be considered a mild case. Others have been incapacitated with fever, cold sweats, blocked airways and all manner of other little nasty symptoms. Virtually every traveler has it, so I have named it the "Delhi Crud," after the yucky green stuff that runs profusely from the nose and hacks itself up from the bottom of the lungs.
Been taking it a little easy, helping Balu and Laura by way of installing the 12 volt wiring system Balu has devised for the guesthouse/workshop, which hopefully at some point will be run and charged by solar energy, something of which there is no lack in this city.
Having a job to do makes the aggravation of living here a little less pointed, the tiny barbs and jabs not hitting my sore spots as much anymore. Nomad has gotten a little better as well, so we are not quite as worried about him as we were. He's almost back to his old self again, and it's nice to have with whom I can take the piss out of this dump with again.
Rocinante will be sold to the Wallas, who will take her tank, sissy bar and other distinguishing parts off to stay in storage, and she will in the end have a full going over with a virtually new engine and everything fixed for sale. Sometime I will see, perhaps, a bike I used to have a special affinity for under the control of someone else, and it will be a good thing to see another enjoying the machine. An amicable split is always best.
On my end of the deal, all I will have to do is e-mail the Wallas office about a month before my next arrival date, and will pay only about half-price for a new machine with credit applied. I could have taken the money and run, but I think it best to have credit as an investment in my next Enfield here in India. I know that I can trust these people, so not to worry in that department either. Hard to find people to trust in this country.
Only a week to survive in the Pagal-ganj, and then it's off to London again, following that back to the states in time to fix up the back lawn, plant some flowers, and watch the dogwoods and magnolias burst into blossom. Not too terrible bad. Sometimes one enters into such an endeavor as this trip with all kinds of plans that never come to full fruition. In such cases, one must needs be flexible, and open to all the changes and modifications that may arise in the path. I may be stuck in Delhi, but hell, it's still India, not Indianapolis. Better to be stuck here where the food is good, the beer is cheap, the dentist can give your broken tooth a nice silver cap for less than 50 bucks, and there are many other travelers to exchange stories with. One could do a lot worse, I suspect. (and yes, I do have "bling" on that nagging broken molar now--so nice to finally have a tooth there. . )
I have had the idea that I will, in the coming days try to take pictures of some of the faces of this section of the city and others, perhaps to tell a story through the expressions and smiles of the people, rather than the dirty and littered smog-filled streets. It is, after all, about the people, not the places.