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	<title>Rob Emrich &#187; New Delhi</title>
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		<title>New Delhi, India</title>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Apr 2008 19:16:14 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[India]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[New Delhi]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Thanks to everyone who has so kindly called to check and make sure I’m doing OK. India is a mind-boggling place. I rented an apartment and set up an office in Delhi, which means two things: (1) Most of my travel from now until mid-July will be based from New Delhi; and (2) I can [...]]]></description>
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		<img src="http://robemrich.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/IMG_0850.jpg" width="240" />
		</p><p>Thanks  to everyone who has so kindly called to check and make sure I’m doing  OK.</p>
<p>India  is a mind-boggling place. I rented an apartment and set up an office in  Delhi, which means two things: (1) Most of my travel from now until  mid-July will be based from<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Dehli"> New Delhi</a>; and (2) I can now explore  everything this city has to offer. I’m going to attempt to  start at the beginning of the month and fill in all of the details. For  the time being, my blog will have a more topical format and will be less  chronological.</p>
<p><strong>Arrival:</strong><br />
An  acrid fume wafted into the cabin as soon as the doors of the plane  opened, while we sat on the New Delhi Airport tarmac. It instantly  affected me, and I noticed how difficult it was becoming to breathe. It  only worsened as I walked outside. It was nighttime, but dust and  pollution hung like a haze in the air. Pollution in Bangkok and Mexico  City pales in comparison to this.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.danielpepper.com/">Daniel Pepper</a>, an old friend from Cleveland and an extremely  talented photojournalist, hosted me until I came up with a game plan for  India. Dan was a kind and gracious host, and it was good  to catch up with him.</p>
<p>The  day after I arrived, Daniel left for Bombay. I was on my own, save for  some great advice from Daniel, to explore Delhi. Delhi is a complicated  place that I am still struggling to understand.</p>
<p>I  want to share a few things that have struck me about this place:</p>
<p><strong>Poverty  and Economy:</strong><br />
Although  I happened to be staying in a relatively upscale neighborhood, it was  instantly apparent to me that the level of poverty in Delhi is  staggering. There are people coming out of the woodwork from every  possible place. The enormous population of this country  comes into play at every level. There are people to do  everything and anything. I’m interested in the rapidly  growing Indian economy and the environmental landscape for new business.  By considering the country from a business perspective, however, I was  rudely awakened by the reality.</p>
<p>In  the US, labor is expensive and imported goods are cheap. It  is typically more efficient to replace old or broken goods than to have  an item fixed. In India, goods are more expensive, while labor is  low-priced.</p>
<p>As a  result,there is a laborer to fix all broken goods, though people who  are skilled professionals may not be the ones making the repairs. Goods  are shoddily produced and repaired.It seems as if the economic culture  itself is in a state of disrepair. I’ve found that goods aren’t even  created or designed properly from the outset.</p>
<p>For  example, I went desk shopping earlier this month. It’s a process that  would usually take me several days. I talked to around 20 different  proprietors at a disaggregated furniture market. The desks  at the market were both low quality and expensive. On  Daniel&#8217;s advice, I found a furniture maker to build my desk from scratch  using teak wood. Because labor was so cheap, the desk was  less expensive and far nicer in quality.</p>
<p>I  asked to tour the place where the desks were made. On a scooter with two  others, I was taken about a kilometer away to a cement basement  building with 20 people working on furniture in various states of  completion. A four-foot high pile of wood shavings covered  in varnish and oil was adjacent to a room with a live fire blazing. It  made me think of urban labor conditions in the US during the industrial  revolution. While the economy here is growing at 9% annually,  significant changes must be made to get the Indian economic “lion to  roar.”</p>
<p><strong>Bogal  Market</strong><br />
A  few days into the trip, I developed a severe throat infection, probably  from Thailand, and spent the next five days resting and recovering.  During that time, I ventured out into many of the local markets,  including one in the neighborhood called Boghul Market. Boghul  is an authentic middle class Indian market. Complete with Chai hawkers,  wild chickens, goat carcasses, cell phone shops, and sock stores, it’s a  massive conglomeration on a 10-block radius in the middle of a  residential area. I was welcomed during my first trip into  the market by a plastic bag of muddy water thrown at my feet. I  thought I had been targeted based on my being an outsider. That  assumption stayed with me until my next visit when I witnessed two  Indian women walking together; one woman was smacked squarely in the  face with a full water balloon. As I looked on in horror, I  realized something bigger must be at play.</p>
<p>After  a few inquiries I found out this was related to the upcoming festival  of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holi">Holi</a>.</p>
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<strong>Holi:</strong><br />
From  a visitor’s perspective, Holi is more of a free-for-all where at any  moment you could be doused with water and then covered in powdered dye.  Everyone is on alert for the few weeks preceding this melee.  I loved it. You can see from my pictures the net  result. Even at the time of this writing, my hair is still  dyed magenta. All the colors have finally come out of my  skin (after a week of five to six showers per day), but my blond hair  was apparently starved for color and doesn’t want to let go. All  over India now, I am signaling to everyone I meet that someone may have  gone a little too far in celebrating Holi. The only other people I see  still dyed are kids ages five to seven, so I feel a little silly waiting  for my hair to grow out. Unfortunately, my auto rickshaw  prices, which have to be negotiated every time, have gone up by about  25% as I look like a complete tourist without a clue.</p>
<p><strong>H</strong><strong>ere  are some things I like or find amazing about India:</strong><br />
The  voice recognition software used by companies for telephone customer  service will not work with my accent. I could not even talk  to a customer care rep to get my phone setup. I ended up  solving this problem by doing my best to talk in a terrible imitation of  an Indian accent. I know nowtospeak to customer care only  when I am all alone and no one can hear me.</p>
<ul>
<li><strong>Tipping:</strong> Affluent people in India  only go to a store once. While there, they take in what the store  offers, get a card or number and from that moment on, use delivery.   It is possible to never leave your home, provided you have all  the right numbers. The result is an endless supply of delivery boys.  These kids almost never get a tip for running or biking all over  town. I always make sure to give them something. A  10-rupee tip (around 25 cents) is like a hundred dollars to them.  I am almost inclined to order things only so that I can give  tips. The ability to make someone’s day by only giving a  small amount doesn’t get old. Tipping in Dehli is probably one of my  favorite things to do.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><strong>The Gym:</strong> This is more about India and  Thailand. I joined a gym here called Stamina, which managed to be both  expensive and not very nice. Nonetheless, I am by far the strongest  person in the gym. This was also true in all the places I went in  Thailand. Many of you know that I have a serious shoulder injury and  have had multiple surgeries. I started an intensive strength training  program a few years ago, knowing that no matter what I did, I would  never be strong compared to other people who work out as often as I do.That is not true here. (1) I max out the weight bench and all of the  machines. For those of you who lift in the US, you can guess how  gratifying this is. (2) When I am getting toward the end of my sets, I  look up to find that I have an audience watching me put up the weight.  This is funny, considering how much I groan, grunt, make faces and turn  red. I am a spectacle in the gym. (3) There are spotters/workout  assistants in the gym. In the US, people workout in pairs or have to ask  for help spotting. In India, there is a person who just sits in the gym  and helps all day. Because I am lifting so much for Indian standards,  it takes three of these people to spot me. This, by itself, is awesome.</li>
<li><strong>Friends  hold hands:</strong> Here, as in many parts of the Middle East, if two men are friends and  are walking together down the street, they may decide to hold hands.  Every time I see this, which is frequently, I think of how outrageous  this would be to do with my friends in the US. I can imagine how visibly  uncomfortable Grant Keating, Matt Youngner, or Ned Sackman would be if I  reached out to hold their hands while heading out to a bar. I think Dan  Riffle would be up for it, though, so I hope he’s ready.</li>
<li><strong>Actually</strong><strong>:</strong> Many Indians who  don’t speak perfect English choose to start or insert the word  “actually” into every sentence—sometimes more than once. It’s  the equivalent of a 14-year-old girl saying “like” between every word.  At first it really threw me off because it seemed unnecessarily  confrontational.<br />
Here  are a few examples:Me:  How much is that carton of milk?</p>
<p>Store  Owner: Actually, its 20 rupees.</p>
<p>It’s  as if I claimed that the milk was 10 rupees, but he was correcting me.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Me:  Is this seat being used?</p>
<p>Person  on Plane: Actually, this seat is not presently being used.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Me:  How much is the rent?</p>
<p>Broker:  Actually, the rent is being 50,000 rupees.</p>
<p>Me:  OK, fine I never said it was anything else, I was only asking how much  it was.</p>
<p>Broker:  Actually, this is a very good price for the neighborhood and all of the  furnishings.</p>
<p>Me:  OK, fine I never said it wasn&#8217;t.</p>
<p>Broker:  Actually, how much are you willing to pay for it? You give me a price.</p>
<p>Me:  I never said I was interested. This is nuts!</li>
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