Police, pyjamas & plumbing…

Just another average weekend in Delhi? Quite possibly, here’s how my weekend shaped up…

I was determined to have a relaxing one, sleeping and making the most of the glorious weather that has now arrived. In a few days it has gone from ‘Ice Age in Siberia’ to ‘Springtime in Provence’ (substitute the smell of lavender for the occasional waft of rubbish and you have the picture). It’s a relaxing 24°c in the day and it should remain this perfect temperature for the next month or so before it starts climbing a degree a day to get to ‘Meltdown in Morocco’ weather.

Saturday morning was all about the lie in. Until I was bought back to consciousness by our doorbell. I decided that ignoring it was the best tactic if I was going to get my prescribed 12 hours of sleep. Our doorbell often rings and is opened to a phantom no one or the guy who collects our rubbish concerned that after the previous day’s profitable mountain of empty beer bottles, there’s nothing on the doorstep for him. It rang again, so mildly irritated I opened the door to be greeted by two moustachioed gentleman. Through my fug of sleep, I recognised one as my landlord and the other sported a more official moustache. It was the policeman from the foreigner’s registration unit come to check up on me.

So we conducted my interview in my pyjamas with me looking like an honorary member of the Hair Bear Bunch. I’m sure he’s seen worse. Hopefully he’ll view my nightwear as an attempt to wear a more traditional salwaar kameez and dully give me my temporary resident’s card.

Now fully awake, it was off out to do some shopping in the neighbourhood. Pottering about at the weekends there’s always something going on out on the street. If it’s not a wedding at the temple, cricket being played on any available open space, then you notice a few interesting services available (see poster on the right). I decided I needed some exploring and quiet time in the afternoon and headed off to the Lotus Temple, 20 minutes walk from the flat.

The pictures really say it all, as it was a trully amazing place. Situated between a park and a building site that is the constant development of the new Metro, it is an oasis of calm in the desert that is Delhi. Having removed my flipflops I queued up with the other visitors and padded in barefooted. Inside was just as stunning as the outside. Made entirely from cooling marble, I sat on a bench in a pool of sunshine and enjoyed the silence. It has to be the most peaceful spot in Delhi and I enjoyed the fact that for once I got to be the starer not the staree as I watched people file in for some quiet time and contemplation.

Sunday was just as relaxing, spending time reading the paper on our roof terrace whilst soaking up the sun. Catching up on world news, Bollywood gossip and my favourite, the matrimonials section. Whatever you are into there is a bride or groom for you out there. Akin to property ads replace ‘gch’ with ‘tall, handsome, smart ‘ for any groom and for prospective brides they all seem to be all ‘fair, beautiful, slim’.

Then in the afternoon to our great excitement our washing machine arrived. We’ve been holding out and finally the second hand top loader automatic 1994 TVS washing machine of our dreams is ours. To get it working we needed to do some basic plumbing. Armed with my trusty travel tool kit (that would be a pink special edition Hello Kitty Swiss Army Knife) I turned the nail file into a screw driver and after much sighing and tap fiddling between us , my flatmate and I put a load of washing on. So all in all, just an average weekend…

Highlights: Having my Indian bank account set up by a colleague in a matter of days (I’m still in shock at the efficiency and lack of queuing involved on my behalf), being maybe one step closer to getting registered and my temporary residents card (or at least I’ve prolonged a visit and queuathon at the foreigner’s registration office for another few weeks), no longer looking like a goat herder/hiking instructor (finally being able to not have to apply five layers and choose from a range of non-fleece based items from my wardrobe is a joy) , discovering you can get home delivery from the local beer shop, gone are the days of a complimentary grope with you bottle of beer…