A Winter in India

Ray and Connie were here and it was so great to see them. We took them to Old Delhi the first day they were here, and that was probably not the best idea. The shock of coming up out of a beautiful modern metro into what could easily be the 17th century is a bit much. No pictures can really convey the density of people, shops, carts, cows, commotion and noise. And then there was the pedal rickshaw ride in which the rickshaw wallah crossed three lanes of traffic, including a hurtling bus, to make a U-turn off the highway and back into the narrow lanes of Old Delhi. Dave says Connie's finger marks are still in his arm. I just remember Ray chanting, "I'm not looking...I'm not looking." The magical thinking worked and we all survived!

By the end of their visit they were old pros, and here we are at Feroz Shah's Madrasa (built around 1360), just before we headed to the airport to send them home to Maine. I don't recall what Dave was saying that went with this look on his face. Connie, that woman in the sari managed to perfectly hide behind you, so only a little outline of her is visible.