Gotta go my own way!

No deep thought to go with the title today – it refers to the song that’s been stuck in my head ALLBLIMMINGWEEK. (It’s either some brilliant 70s band, or High School Musical 2. Eurgh.)

It’s nearly been a month I’ve been here now. WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL.

I’ve become accustomed to things here. Most things. Some things. Ok, I’m never ever gonna get used to this place. But I have got used to the fact that I’m never getting used to it. (META. I think.Theatre friends – is that meta? I never really understood it when you used the term…)

Shimla, the weekend break we took, was beautiful. An ex-British outpost in the hills, cool, quiet, clean – everything Delhi is not. It was a wonderful break and my sanity returned to a degree.

My time actually IN Delhi though, has recently taken a very-much-needed turn. I have moved out of the university hostel, and taken a room in a house in South Delhi which, while it’s far far far away from University, is at least close enough to everything else (and I mean everything), and does not have a curfew. It has comfy sofas, a bedroom that doesn’t look like a prison cell, clean toilets, and 15 people from all over the world. *Including men – a species not allowed in the hostel.*

I’ve definitely chucked myself into the party house. I am pretty sure that I’m overpaying with the rent. It’s not the most practical of choices, as it’s far from the university, and too close to clubs. But I am much, much happier within it – everyone has been incredibly welcoming, I’m learning to cook Indian dishes, I’ve met a lot of people here who are willing to travel and party, and still work hard at all the mad things they’re doing (internships, events management, degrees…) I’d be hard pushed to find somewhere more suited to me. Last night, we all just hung out and drank whisky and chai – getting into travel tales and hopes and dreams and silly anecdotes.

Plus, most of the blokes are models. I’ll just say that and leave it there.

Me and a friend wandered to a market yesterday. Now, ordinarily, shopping stresses me out to the point that I wish for industrial-strength tranquilisers. Products so beautifully folded you fear to touch them, snotty thin girls patrolling the impeccable floor – raising their eyebrows as if to say, “That won’t fit YOU”… I found none of this in Sarojini Nagar –  a massive mish-mash of overproduced or faulty Western clothing (Think Zara and H&M), where I bartered my way into an entire wardrobe for less than £25. By the end of the day, we were exhausted, but hugely satisfied. In Britain, I wouldn’t have argued with the shopkeeper for five minutes over a bulk-buy discount (WIN), I wouldn’t have been attacked by touts every time I made accidental eye-contact (Definitely NOT win), and I certainly wouldn’t have drunk coconut juice bought from a 9 year old boy who lopped the top off with a machete. And I wouldn’t have had anywhere near as much fun!

University is yet to start – I feel as though I am on a permanent learning experience and I think that learning about Moghul emperors or slavery in the 19th century might be an information overload – just walking through Delhi at all is mentally exhausting.

I’m straight up gonna use this mental exhaustion as the reason this blog is just a splurge of random thoughts and ideas. Excellent.

ABOUT OTHER THINGS –  Tomorrow I have a meeting with the media consultant for the Indian ministry of tourism (I literally have no idea how this happened), and I’m writing copy for a charities fundraising brochure – stay tuned to see the various ways in which I embarrass myself and prove to be entirely incompetent at this India thing.

Until next time 🙂


Categories: Delhi, India

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