filthy (habits)

I realize that this blog template is a bit hard to read, but I can't be bothered to mess around with http://blogger.com/jerkstore/fuckthiswebsite.html......... not yet, anyway.

So I've just completed my first day in India, Delhi to be specific. As stories have told, it is indeed a bouquet of delightful odours:
- urine (human/other)
- incense
- meat?
- hot garbage
- hot pavement
- hot molly
- all kinds of poops
- sulfur
- spicy food
- air pollution

With great relief, I must report that the pollution in Delhi, while bad, is nothing like the obscured cityscape of Beijing. The thickness of smog in the good old People's Republic is staggering and soul-crushing. During my 15-hour layover yesterday, I did battle with the Beijing subway system and ended up popping out of its sweaty cooch at Tian'anmen Square. It's a nondescript open space surrounded by buildings that celebrate Mao and other old dead guys. And it's filled with thousands upon thousands of Chinese tourists. And it's so smoggy that you can't see past two city blocks in any direction. I know I shouldn't obsess over the pollution for too long, but let me just say now: yuck. Such a spooky mindfuck when you're coming from a place with very clean air.

Speaking of cleanliness, I should explain the subject line of this post. Today I resolved to immediately stop nail-biting cold turkey. I've bit my nails, or really the skin around my nails, for most of my life. It occurred to me this morning with great force: a culture that frowns upon using your left hand for anything but bum-wiping may take great offense if I'm suckin' on my paws at every opportunity. Despite my devout opposition to hand-washing and hand sanitizer, there may be a time and place for heightened health practices. (Time = now, place = here!) Soon after making this promise to myself, I witnessed a gentleman brushing his teeth using gutter water. Surely I can reproduce such gusto and dedication to oral hygiene!

I stopped by the train station today and made a [hasty, random] decision to get the hell out of Delhi. I'm not particularly opposed to checking out the Commonwealth Games, but why start faking an interest in sports now? Especially after all those years committed to scorning televised hockey. Well, tomorrow I'm boarding a flashy express train to Amritsar, Punjab; the journey should take six hours and change. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amritsar) It's in the northwest corner of India (ish), very close to the Pakistan border. Using a Venn diagram, the shaded intersection would be "Amritsar" while the three circles that overlap would be labelled "butter chicken" - "Golden Temple" - "awesome Sikh beards". Yes!

I figured I would do something touristy on my only day in Delhi, so this afternoon I tried to visit the Jama Masjid, the biggest mosque in India, but only saw it from the outside I'd been told that women cannot enter unaccompanied and was too lazy to enquire further. Close to Jama Masjid was the Red Fort, another iconic Delhi site. I paid to look inside - big, red, old, okay. I reckon I'll be back in Delhi at least a couple more times, considering Ben's arriving here November 30 and I'll be holding a clever sign at the airport.

You may have overheard me loudly decrying jet lag for its wussy-baby lack of merit. I may have been wrong. It's not fatigue so much as it is a raw, humorless ache. The train station calls my name at 6:30 am tomorrow, so I'll "see" you (who?) when I get to Amritsar!