Eating Omelettes in India
Highlights of my first weekend in Delhi:
Bathing with a bucket; Wanting to buy every piece of jewelry, bag and trinket at Dilli Haat market; Discovering how fun and exciting playing chicken with a cow, a bus, a motorcycle and another auto rickshaw can be; Getting ripped off; Haggling successfully with a rickshaw driver (BIG confidence booster); Buring my mouth with a collection of spices, but loving it at the same time; Walking the lawns at the India Gate; Discovering sweat glands I didn't know I had; Eating lunch at the American Embassy compound, but feeling guilty about eating an omelette in India; Being asked if I'm Australian; Being asked if I'm British; Being asked if I'm Dutch; Not being asked if I'm American
Highlights of my first weekend in Delhi:
Bathing with a bucket; Wanting to buy every piece of jewelry, bag and trinket at Dilli Haat market; Discovering how fun and exciting playing chicken with a cow, a bus, a motorcycle and another auto rickshaw can be; Getting ripped off; Haggling successfully with a rickshaw driver (BIG confidence booster); Buring my mouth with a collection of spices, but loving it at the same time; Walking the lawns at the India Gate; Discovering sweat glands I didn't know I had; Eating lunch at the American Embassy compound, but feeling guilty about eating an omelette in India; Being asked if I'm Australian; Being asked if I'm British; Being asked if I'm Dutch; Not being asked if I'm American
posted by Lindsey at 8:34 AM
1 Comments:
One of my favorite things to happen when abroad is for someone to wrongly guess where I'm from. It makes me feel safe. Like I've still got some camauflage over me.
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