Mei volunteer hoo... honest

I’m breaking all the rules. If VSO worked to a penalty system I think this could be a yellow card. I’m currently ensconced in the lobby of the 5* Shangri-La hotel, having just been pampered in the spa. I haven’t broken yet, honest. I’m here thanks to a group of my lovely friends who treated me to the World’s Best Massage. I feel a tad guilty but feel the massage was a cathartic and symbolic way to purge the stress of my London life away and marks the start of a new era (ahem). I will of course be supporting the cause and accidently be slipping some luxury loo roll into my bag to alleviate my 285 rupees a day budget, a girl’s got to be resourceful in these times...

So another week has flown by. I feel I’ve had a year’s worth of excitement in 7 days. Our daily routine of Hindi lessons in the morning is followed by a 2 hour lunch, the afternoons are then spent learning more about VSOs work in India. It’s like being back at freshers week with a lot more giggling, particularly in Hindi class. We all sound like zombies attempting to construct sentences which are proving to be quite difficult when verbs go at the end and there are exceptions to every verb.

On Thursday I went to my office for the first time to meet everyone. I don’t think I’ve ever been greeted more warmly by such a lovely bunch of folk. Within an hour a fresh birthday list had been printed up with my name on and was hanging in the kitchen. We all had lunch together and I met my CEO for the first time. He’s even more charismatic in the flesh with a great sense of humour, so I’m really looking forward to starting in a few weeks time.
So between Hindi lessons and office visits we’ve started flat hunting. The first challenge is to decide where to live. It’s pretty hard when you have no clue on good areas, have an 8,000 rupee budget a month (£111) and you need to be fairly close to work. Delhi is huge and travelling around is a nightmare, the pollution is very bad and I cannot even imagine how it’s going to be when it reaches 48 degrees. Last night we attempted to find the ‘Hoxton of Delhi’. Off we headed to Shapur Jat in our autorickshaw having failed to barter despite use of my only sentence in Hindi ‘Mei volunteer hoo’ (I’m a volunteer). All the lanes were dark and by weaving through narrow backstreets of what seemed to be a medieval town we found the centre (we think) which was a market that was throbbing with life. Having failed to find the beer shop in 5 minutes of wandering we realised perhaps it was a bit too up and coming for us.

Yesterday was tourist day and we headed off for a tour of Old Delhi. We commandeered a group of bicycle rickshaws which was highly entertaining. Particularly, when Lucy in our group had a go and was infamous by the end of the day, fellow rickshaw wallahs were shouting out her name whenever she passed. Old Delhi was a refreshing change of manic to New Delhi. We visited the spice market, a beautiful 10th century Sikh temple, waived at the Red Fort and had the best paranthas (deep friend doughie bread that is to die for). I certainly don’t think I’m going to be coming back any thinner.

Highlights: going to work, having dinner in at a fellow volunteers place and meeting their lovely rescue dog, overtaking a camel and an elephant slowly plodding down the road at 11pm in an auto rickshaw, purchasing a new facial hair fancy dress item outside the Red Fort, reading a whole book in a week, getting progressively worse at Hindi.