Dear Delhi Traffic,

I think you get a bad reputation.

Yesterday all of the eighth graders in our school went on  field trips to support the work they're doing on their integrated capstone project.  The group we took went to North Delhi to visit a rehabilitation center for bonded child laborers and a medical facility in a low-income area.

Beyond the obvious, interesting nature of the projects we were visiting, it meant that we had to face you, Delhi Traffic.  From school, the journey to North Delhi would last 90 minutes.

That would make most people cringe, but not me Delhi Traffic.  I think you're great.  Anywhere else in the world and that much time in a bus would be boring, but you have so much going on that it's like watching a movie.

The ninety minutes went by in a flash as we traveled and you kept me entertained.  Thanks!

But...your next segment really showcased your double-edged treachery, Delhi Traffic.  A 45 minute jaunt changed into a TWO HOUR delay.  Did you disappoint?  Of course not.  In that one hundred and twenty minutes (and 15? kilometers), you gave me centuries-old tombs and forts, three weddings, a flood, ox-carts, water buffalo, innumerable cows, the buzz of street life and one of my most favorite recent photos.

Like I said before Delhi Traffic, I think you get a bad rep.

Awestruck,
jason

ps.  Here are some pictures of your traffic-caused entertainment to send your family.

Dear Holy Cows,

I was just in the kitchen getting more coffee when I saw one of you pass by my window.  You know what Holy Cows, it never gets old.  I crack up every time I see you.   I know that I should be used to it, but every time I see you, I think to myself, "Wow! There's a cow!"  I'm smiling right now, just thinking about it.

In my backyard, in the streets, at the mall-you're everywhere.  Awesome.   Here's to you Holy Cows.

On the way to work

My first Holy Cows, 2006

Getting close and personal

Orchha

Bovine-ily yours,

jason

Dear Colorful Indian Lamps,

You know what, Colorful Indian Lamps? I think you're great.

When I first saw you in 2006 in Varanasi and took two of you back to Korea with me, I thought you were great. I mean, how cool?  Exotic Indian lamps in my apartment in the ROK.   I was so excited for you to be on the porch that I took the door off in order to allow you join us in the living room.

(Those doors were heavier than they looked.)

People always asked about you when they'd come to visit and I'd brag about finding you in India.  They loved you; I loved you.  But, I should have taken better care of you.  You would often fall to the floor and I would get lazy about putting you back up.  After one such fall, combined with a party mishap, you took a bad hit.

(Pictured: Colored Indian Lamp Staining Agent)

At that time, I figured that was it.  You'd be stained for life and I'd never have a chance to replace you.  Little did I know that I'd end up living in your homeland.

Since moving here, I've seen you hundreds of times Colorful Indian Lamps.  I've admired you, thought about that day in Varanasi when I bought you and all those times spent on the porch in Korea.  But, I haven't replaced you.  You're still sun-faded and wine-stained in a drawer.

Today, I went to the Surajkund Mela and you were in your full glory!  You were everywhere and I couldn't take enough photos of you.

But I still didn't replace you.  I'm not sure why I haven't taken you out of your drawer, or added any more Colorful Indian Lamps to my life.

Do you know what?  Maybe I should.

Vibrantly,
jason