Busy days!
We have been very busy organising everything for the house... waterdispensers, waterbottles (we are using these big 20 liter bottles with filtered and ozonised water), a gasconnection, diesel for the generator (powercuts are still very frequent) etc.
We have also had the washingmachine delivered, in what the Indians call a "tempo" - a little three-wheel truck. That is already quite sophisticated, because the waterdispensers were delivered on a riksha...all the way from delhi to our house, over roads full of potholes, stones, cows, cars, people, bicycles etc. Poor guy.

And then, much sooner than expected, our container arrived! The huge 40 ft container turned out to be half empty, but still we felt very embarrassed when everything was unloaded and carried into outr enormous house...two days ago our cook, Bishnu, also moved in and her belongings wouldn't even fill one of our many bathrooms. Suddenly the big gap between "us" and "them" becomes so obvious again...but India does that to you. Here, so many people have absolutely nothing - but it will take another 50 years before that is changed, I am afraid.

For now we will return to our many many boxes and start unpacking (and in the process we will have to stop our personnel from helping us, because once they start unpacking I fear I will never be able to find my things again!).

There is a Jewish curse that says: "I wish you a lot of personnel!".
After hiring a driver, a cook, a cleaning lady and three gardeners, I am beginning to understand why personnel is the favourite topic of conversation at expat-gatherings... and yet, I am also experiencing the sense of responsability one has for these people, and the fact that we cannot change the fate of everyone in India, but we can contribute to those families in our care.

The picture above is of the Mali family (Mali = gardener); I do not know their last name, and I am suspecting neither do they, as it turns out they are illiterate and do not know their own age or what the birthdate of their children is.
The Mali's have four children, and one helper mali (far right) who probably is a relative of some kind. They live in the servant quarters behind our house, and have tended the garden for 18 years (!) already. We suspect that their son, Raj, is the only one who has had some education. Currently he is not going to school but learning how to be a mali from his father. Needless to say that we think all kids should go to school and that we will try to achieve that once we moved in.
The Mali's are Muslim's, except for helper mali who is Hindu. This immediately confronts us with the general belief that one's servants should all be either muslim or hindu, but never mixed; christians go with either.

The cook we just hired, Bishnu, will move in soon with her husband and 10 months old kid. Bishnu is from Bhutan, and her husband is from Nepal; they married for love, which is quite an exception in this part of the world. They are now living in two tiny rooms in the city for which they pay 2000 rupees per month (and he makes 4000 rupees, i.e. app. 65 euro's, per month with his job as guard at the embassy). For them, moving with us is an enormous step forward, not only because they will save the rent, but also because she will be trained as a cook.
My criteria for hiring a cook were simple: I needed someone who can speak english and who knows how to cook Indian; I could teach her the rest. Bishnu has never worked as cook before but she knows how to cook Bhutanese, Nepalese, Chinese and Indian - more than enough for me! She is adorable, and so is her husband. Training Bishnu to cook Italian, English, French, Japanese and Korean (which I can do), and training her to speak better english, will increase her value tremendously and will give her a shot at working for other expats once we leave. Bishnu and Harka were raised as Buddhists but converted to Hinduism when thwy came to India.

And there T and I were, picturing our own little soap opera :
The muslims cleaning the toilets and getting the beef as that is something the Hindu's do not do, the Hindu's getting the pork as obviously the Muslim's will not, the (former) Buddhists acting as mediators if the Muslim's and the Hindu's start fighting and us (being of Christian background) getting drunk besides the pool as we cannot cope with all that anymore!
But until the contrary is proved we are going to assume that all will go well and that our little enclave will proof that it IS possible to all live together happily ever after...and it will be nice to celebrate Eid (the Muslim Christmas), Diwali (the Hindu Christmas), and our own good old Christmas. All we need now is a Jewish guard.....

Life is slowly starting to become normal again.

Construction in the house is still going on; we are not sure what they are still doing there but as our container has not arrived yet it doesn't really matter. In my mind I am figuring out what to put where. The house is much bigger than we originally thought so we'll probably have enough furniture to furnish two rooms... what a wonderful space left to fill with all these beautiful things that can be found around here!
In anticipation of all this space we bought a "Naga table", which is an old indian massage table carved out of one piece of wood. We bought it in a very nice shop in Haus Khaz called Country Collection; they have beautiful things from all around India, old as well as new (made to look old - they are very good at that!). The nice thing is that they can tell you a story about all their items and that they do not try to sell you something new as antique.

We also have a car now, which makes life a lot easier, and a brand new driver to go with it - mr. Gill.
Mr. Gill used to be a taxidriver, and a truck driver before that, so he made a considerable promotion becoming our private driver. He was in fact still a taxi driver when we asked him - the first taxi driver who did not try to cheat us or lure us into doing extra business with him. In India, everything is about money and doing business, and as foreigner you know you will be cheated. This is something you have to get used to, because even if the amounts are small the principle is annoying. Mr. Gill is however watching over us, constantly making sure that we do not pay more than we should. We are lucky to have him.

Our car also has a CD numberplate, which is convenient for it "allows" us to park everywhere - something mr. Gill happily takes advantage of. He is also very happy that we are now allowed to enter the premises of the Hyatt without being checked. All taxi's and regular cars are checked for bombs, but apparantly we diplomats are not the types that blow up things...not literally anyway.

For me, it is still an unmeasurable luxury to have a driver who is waiting for you while you are shopping or having lunch.
I realise that the fact that we are hiring personnel insures them of an income, a place to live and an opportunity to send their kids to school, but the idea of all these people around to serve us...it will take a while before I am used to that, if ever. In the house, we will have three gardeners, a cook, a housekeeper, a guard, and of course mr. Gill...our own little private enterprise! It is not surprising that personnel (and the problems one has with them) is the favourite topic at parties. Well, we'll find out soon enough.....

Ok, the house is ours! The owner finally agreed to sign - as soon as our stuff arrives we can move in! That is, if repairs are finished by then, because there is still a lot of fixing to do. And in India, so we are told by the other expats, whenever something is repaired something else is broken...we have seen evidence of it already so the question remains how much of the house will still be standing once we are ready to move in.

The garden has partially turned into a swamp, now that heavy reains have been falling on Delhi. We will need to fix that because there have been warnings that Dengue will be heavy in october...no water should be allowed standing for more than 3 days. As T is a mosquito magnet this is defenitely something we will have to watch out for...let's hope that our terrific smelling all-natural mosquito repellent (Al Fresco, bought it online from a very nice lady who developed it in the UK - www.alfresco.uk.com) actually will do what it promises: to repel most insects most of the time. We'll be testing it real soon!

Our car should also arrive any minute now, and then we can take the brandnew car and the brandnew driver to collect the brandnew licence plates at Khan Market, the fancy shopping center where all the expats shop. Khan Market is actually quite interesting and despite appearances almost everything thinkable is sold there. Foreign cheeses, good bread, meat, vegetables, shoes and handbags, clothes, books, interior stuff, freezers, licence plates...you name it, Khan Market has it.
Even the occasional monkey goes 'shopping' there; Khan Market also has several peanut-vendors and the monkeys patiently wait for the vendors to avert their eyes, so they can feast on the peanuts. I think it's funny, but I don't think the vendors will agree with me...

Still waiting for news about "our" house. Negotiations apparantly are not over yet, but we are not very positive. We shall see...in India, one needs time.

In the meantime I have been busy checking out the shopping areas in Delhi. The city is divided into "Colonies" and each colony has it's own shopping center. Every center has its own specialties, ranging from textiles to computers, antiques, silver, fabrics, or food. Khan market is of course very famous and frequented by diplomats, expats and rich Indians, but my favorite so far is Greater Kailash 1 with its friendly appearance and colourful Fabindia shops. I actually bought an Indian outfit there, consisting of a Salwaar (pants), a Kurta (tunic) and a Dupatta (shawl).

Shopping is quite an experience and I am glad that I am being shown where to go, because the best stuff is in places where no man has gone before, it seems. In India, one has to climb stairs, delve in basements, wiggle through backdoors or enter little seedy streets that look as if there is a mugger around every corner...but then a world of beautiful (though sometimes moldy, as I recently discovered) things opens up. The nicest fabrics, pieces of furniture, books, jewelry and coffeshops can be found in these places, like hidden treasures waiting to be discovered. Actually, it is part of their charm.

In the midst of it all one can find cows lying side by side with motorbikes, monkeys eyeing peanut sellers and birds picking at the remains of...yes, of what? (Do I WANT to know?)
But no shopping for us this weekend because T is down with the flue (we think). Let's hope it will pass quickly...it's the second weekend in a row he is ill and I am starting to become anxious to do so sightseeing, because there is SO much to see here!

Delhi is on red alert!
There have been threats of terrorist attacks on (or preceeding) Independence Day - the day on which India gained Independence in 1947 - which is on august the 15th.
All government institutions, major markets, airports, trainstations and major hotels are possible targets, and security has increased dramatically.

As we are staying in a hotel that belongs to an American chain, our hotel is taking serious precautions as well. No cars are allowed to stop or park in front of the entrance, all cars are inspected inside out to check for bombs, and guests have to enter via a metal detector. Every time there is a power cut (which happens app. 10 times a day, if not more) it now makes one wonder if this is perhaps more serious than a temporary blackout. I think we will spend our Independence at at the poolside, far away from the building.
This is the first time I have experienced the terrorist threat this close. It is a comfort to see that here everything is treated very seriously, and the staff comes prepared. Still, against a whacko with a bomb hidden underneath his/her cloth, there is not much one can do. All we can do now is cross our fingers and sit it out....

Our "Indian farmhouse" is a no-go...we just heard that despite our strict wish to ONLY view houses within our budget this one exceeds it by far, and the owner is not willing to go down in price. Right now I could kill the real estate agent, because it means we lost a precious week of house-hunting as we were waiting for the negotiations.
It also became very clear that in India they simply try, no matter what you say.

But that had become clear to me anyway, over the past 2 weeks. Here, everything is about negotiating and doing business. If you don't try, you will most certainly NOT get what you want...if you DO try, who knows.
Taxidrivers do that by asking way too much for the ride. Shopkeepers try to lure you inside to show their merchandise. Waiters can't wait to wait on you and snatch your glass away from you as soon as you finished the last drop...and sometimes even before that, so they can sell you another glass. And even the manager of the beautyshop (where I went on The First Monday T went To Work) actually managed to sell me lots of treatments I didn't ask for...but it did teach me how they do it!

I went for a manicure and pedicure, and sitting there (with someone at my hands and another one at my feet) was inspected by the manager. "Mhhh...you have very dry hair. Shall I give you a scalp massage with oil?" Granted, my hair DID suffer from sun and chlorine and seeing the beautiful shiney Indian hair made me wonder if I could look like that after a scalp massage, so I agreed. But it didn't stop there. "Oh...your muscles are so tight. Maybe I should massage your shoulders as well!". Ok...yes, we had some stressy times and yes, my neck does feel stiff. So ok, a little shouldermassage couldn't hurt. But it didn't stop there either! "Oh, I see now that you have a lot of dead skincells on your face. That makes you look old. You know what, I will give you a facial, ok?" Well, who wants to look old?
In the end I spend 3 hours in a chair, had approximately 20 different things smeared on, rubbed on, peeled off en massaged onto my face, was dying to go to the ladies' room and spent the monthly salary of an Indian waiter on the treatment (at least, that is what I am estimating). It was an experience, but I do not go anywhere near the salon again!

Still, I can't help but like the Indian people. After all, who can blame them for trying? And as soon as I have found the proper response to ward off any business I don't want, I'll try a manicure again. ONLY a manicure....!

Just went househunting for three days...how frustrating!
Houses in the city are expensive and hard to find, and many of them have been "improved" to meet foreigner's expectations...or so the owners seem to think, because T and I have never seen so many ugly lamps, kichens, bathrooms, ceilings and doors in our lives!
Unfortunately this also means that the authentic character of most houses is lost and what remains leaves us depressed and with an utter disgust for marble...marble! Marble is everywhere!

After looking at "townhouses" - freestanding houses in the city- and appartments we decided to also take a look at the so called "farmhouses", located app. 30 minutes driving outside of the city. These houses are called farmhouses because they are build on what used to be agricultural land. Their name suggests a rural type of dwelling, but nothing could be farther from the truth - the farmhouses we have seen look like little (marble) palaces with huge gardens and a swimming pool.
Still, we have spotted one we like. It is build "Indian style" and was left intact - no bad interior architects here!
We do hope it will fall within our allowed budget (still haven't been able to figure out how much that exactly is) and that it will be approved, because many new families are starting to arrive, and they will all go househunting beginning next week! If we don't find something now or real soon we'll be staying in the hotel for a loooong time...so we are holding our breath...

On Saturday the 29th of July 2006 my husband T and I moved to New Delhi, India.
T has accepted a job at the Netherlands Royal Embassy, after being professor of Industrial Design in Daejeon, South Korea, where we lived for the past 16 months.

Tagging along with him, out of fear of getting eternally bored if I don't do something useful, I have decided to combine two of my secret wishes (to write and to be more active in the wonderful world of online adventures) and start a blog...for friends and family left behind elsewhere in the world (of course dying to know how we are doing here) and obviously for everyone else who might be interested in whatever it is that I am writing.

As I have never blogged I have no idea what I am doing, but that will simply add to the adventure this whole move is anyway.
India has always been on my list of "countries I definitely will want to visit before I die" and I can only count myself lucky that we are here now - hopefully years before my death so I actually get to enjoy being here.

So...India, here we go!