Bobbing along on the sea of humanity

India has been described as a sea of humanity, which strikes me as an apt metaphor. It's immense and can be choppy to navigate. It also seems to me that it is best approached as a sea. If you relax and breathe normally you can float but, if you are tense and nervous, it could make you feel as if you are drowning.

Today we waded into the churning sea that is the Old Delhi market. Scooters, bicycle rickshaws, men pulling carts full of goods, men balancing huge packages on their heads, vendors and actual shoppers are all jockeying for ripped up pavement space in winding alleyways so narrow I can almost touch both sides. It was a panic attack waiting to happen but, perverse creatures that we are, we happily let the tides pull us to and fro. We were also immensely pleased with ourselves that we found our way back home on the metro.

It's amazing how much more comfortable I have become in Delhi. I, too, now walk in the midst of traffic without batting an eye and am not overwhelmed by the sheer muchness of the city. Traffic is crazy here, though. Everyone and everything just lurches into the streets, seemingly at random, and fills any available spot going in either direction. My first day on this trip I saw a traffic jam start in Paharganj when a car hit a toddler in the busy street. The toddler seemed unfazed but the father went totally apeshit on the car, pounding the hood and screaming. Eventually he got tired or achieved some level of personal satisfaction and the street went back to its usual level of chaos.

Today I saw four dogs in sweaters. They were the first dogs I have seen in clothes here at all. Maybe Monday is Put A Sweater On Your Dog Day.

An acquaintance in a shop pointed out that in India female dogs have more freedom to pick a mate than women do, but in the west it's the opposite. We are much pickier about our dogs' mates. That observation rings true and is sad in both directions.

Anyone want me to bring them cow pee soap? Have no idea what it costs but Amit sells it.