Days 1-6

Prologue: Sunday, June 30 (early morning)
Arrived to sweltering heat and a friendly driver holding a sign and a sweating water bottle. Twenty-minute drive through south Delhi to hotel: streets chock-a-block with colorful lorries and cops, the latter principally involved in yelling at people. Arrived at hotel through several layers of security (three guards at gate, baggage screening, metal detector, polite pat-down). Lady posted at front desk gave me a marigold garland around my neck, a bindi on my forehead, and a glass of juice. It was 1:30am.

Day 1: Sunday, June 30 (day)
Breakfast buffet at hotel: juices, coffee, fresh fruit, sliced bread, croissants, candied croissants, two varieties of mini donuts, dinner rolls, french fries, and assorted spicy Indian food. They also provide eggs and homemade yogurt (a good way to expose yourself to the local bacteria), but you have to know to ask for it.

Comfortable in the hotel - everybody says hi, all the guards (and there are many) salute and press elevator buttons for you, the airconditioning is more than adequate - but feeling like I should try to see a bit of the city. First outing is to Khan Market (which I hear, perhaps not inappropriately, as "Con Market" in my head). Had been led to believe it was an upscale sort of shopping mall - turns to to be more of a double-decker strip mall with some posh-looking stores (most of them closed at 10am), a muddy and pungent interior pathway, and lots of taximen and rickshawmen and men who stand in doorways and appear to be trying to catch my attention from time to time. I ignore them and do some halfhearted browsing.

After lunch (an elaborate buffet, as they all will be, of at least four superb Indian dishes, soup, bread, rice, fruit, dessert, and usually something vaguely Italian) I decide to walk to the Purana Qila, or Old Fort, about a mile away. Sultry day: I begin sweating as soon as I step outside. Autorickshaw driver convinces me to let him drive me to the fort for a mere 40 rupees ($.65) - wants to take me to some craft market, but I'm not interested. Anarchic traffic, dusty diesel fumes. Big crowd outside fort listening to someone on a megaphone. Not many people inside the grounds, which are vaguely 16th century and look like this:

People stare at me quite unabashedly: only other Western couple is a Scottish mother and adult son who spend quite a bit of time arguing with ticket seller. Nobody asks to take their picture with me, but this will change.

After fort, I acquiesce as driver takes me to craft market after all. First real glimpse of slum area on the way there, though market is nice and, mercifully, air-conditioned. As will prove to be common in India, there are about eight times more people working in the market than is strictly necessary: one guy to try selling me the rugs, one guy for the brass gods, a woman with the shawls, another woman with the shirts, etc. I escape without spending any money: crestfallen driver tuk-tuks me back home.

Gathering for drinks in the evening at hotel bar: first meeting with fellow institute attendees. Then dinner. Friendly and diverse group: some with experience of India, some who know nothing about it, and some in between. Another gigantic dinner. Sleep.

Days 2-3: Monday, July 1 and Tuesday, July 2
First two days are for class. On Monday we introduce ourselves, and we have lunch with Rama Lakshmi, the India correspondent for the Washington Post (fascinating discussion about protest movement's, women in India, etc), then afternoon presentations on ancient Harappan civilization and art of ancient India. On Tuesday another presentation on Harappa and then a short presentation from Shashi Tharoor, novelist, member of Parliament, cabinet minister, runner-up for position of UN Sec General. Tharoor is smooth and charming, but as a neoliberal politician he's not uniformly popular amongst some of the Indian academics in our group. He escapes unscathed, however, and I begin reading his novel, Riot, which isn't very good.

Day 4: Wednesday, July 3
First institute outing to Old Delhi. Red Fort (seat of Mughals from mid-17th century), Jama Masjid (grand Mughal mosque), short bus ride through Chandni Chowk (central artery of Old Delhi), lunch at Karim's (whose chefs trace their lineage to the Mughal court).

Red Fort: a bit shabby, British destroyed most of it in 1857. Occupied by Indian army until fairly recently. Is, unsurprisingly, red. Several people wanted their pictures taken with me. Restoration of fort is ongoing, looks like this on the inside:

Chandni Chowk and streets surrounding: riotous, muddy, hypnotizing. Couldn't stop laughing in the chaotic traffic.

Karim's: splendid tandoori chicken. It began like this:

And ended up like this:

Jama Masjid: stunning, epic, blistering hot. This was happening inside:

Climbed minaret, 130ish steps. Nice breeze at top, but was full to bursting. Luckily, ironwork held as I pressed up against it:

Day 5: Thursday, July 4
Potentially tough day: third anniversary of Joey's death. Turned out to be meditative and quite profound. Morning trip to Rajghat, where Gandhi was cremated and is now memorialized with an eternal flame. Accompanied there by Tushar Gandhi, great-grandson of the Mahatma, who also led us around the Gandhi Smriti, the house where Gandhi was killed, now a museum and memorial. Tushar was passionate and kind; he wept a little while standing at the assassination spot. This is Tushar:

Returned to hotel to find lunch room decorated with American flags and red-white-blue bunting - all the senior hotel people then presented us with a pineapple Independence Day cake. It was very touching. Then we sang "God Bless America."

Afternoon trip to National Museum of Modern Art (some of the group opted to visit the Nehru Mansion instead, which by all accounts was rather dry and unairconditioned). Special exhibit of Jamini Roy, some of which was quite pleasing, but the real discovery for me was Amrita Sher-Gil, a modernist painter active mostly in the 1930s who died of TB in 1941 - at the age of 28, same age as Joey. She painted this:

The art museum was an excellent place to breath deeply and think of my brother.

Day 6: Friday, July 5
Morning trip to the National Museum, with art from ancient India up to the 18th century. Spent most of my time with the miniatures from the Mughal period: marvelous colors, great mustaches, and some pretty amusing Krishnas. No photos, though. Sorry.

Free afternoon, so I went to pick up a letter of intro from the American Center (near Connaught Place: strange decaying modernist architecture, heavy security, only minimal confusion) and then to the National Archives to register for access. The building is grand (Lutyens building in the heart of New Delhi, which the British built expecting never to leave) but the premises are rudimentary: guards who grin and point instead of explaining how to navigate the labyrinth, no airconditioning, bare white walls and analog catalogues. But gaining access was quite easy (by Indian standards), and there were monkeys outside. Monkeys the size of labradors.