I woke up early with a free day.
I took the Metro over to the bus station and hopped on a bus to Jind, in Haryana, which is su
pposed to be the heartland of the state, with rural villagers who only speak Haryanwi, not even Hindi.
The ride there was ok, but I couldn’t take pictures because the lighting was bad.
I got out at Jind, and started walking to go see some rural life, through the crowded, busy town.
I bought four bananas from one of probably 25 banana-vendors.
Walking in the 100-degree heat for 15 minutes was unbearable.
My shirt was soaked, I was turning into a brown man, and my eyes burned from the dust.
Some of the people looked at me funny, especially when I whipped out the camera.
I remember watching a 1981 movie in Anthropology Class called Dadi’s Family, about a family of Haryana farmers led
by the matriarch Dadi (meaning Mother-In-Law because a woman moves from her natal village to live with her husbands’).
Anyways, I am positive I just found Dadi.
She looks exactly the same but a little older, and was wearing the exact same outfit.
I managed to get a picture of her.
After that, I felt like I had accomplished enough for the day, so I turned back in a furious sweat, to the bus station.
I saw all these uniformed schoolboys riding on the tops of buses, which looked like fun/extremely dangerous.
I talked to one of the students, and a bunch of high-school kids and I jumped on top and rode the bus to Panipat, 60 km away.
They all crowded around and wanted to talk to me, see where I was from, what I was doing in Jind, and how much sex I have.
I was invited to one of their houses, but I was so exhausted I didn’t have the energy to try and hurdle the language barrier.
Most of them got off the bus as we rode further and further to Panipat.
On the way, I saw quintessential rura
l India; men in white kurta and turbans sitting under the shade of trees playing cards and smoking hookah, women carrying huge bundles of wheat and water pails on their heads, families being pulled on carts by water buffalo, endless plains of cultivated rice paddies, wheat fields, and sugar plantations. I passed the Panipat Thermal Energy Plant, a huge nuclear power plant, built right up against slums, rural houses, and rice fields.
It was straight out of a movie, the British voice saying, “Planet Earth uses 3000 times as much energy as is being created by nature.
Moreover, urbanization and rapid consumption of natural resources threaten global sustainability le
vels for future generations.”
Panipat was a busy, dusty, sprawling, boring town, and I just wanted to get back to
Delhi.
I hopped on a bus and slept most of the way back.
I can feel my stomach growling because of something I ate on Saturday, but nothing really bad.
So far I haven’t gotten sick since Mussoorie, knock on wood.
Maybe I am actually building up immunities.
This could be because I haven’t drunk (I know, what’s going on?) in a month, but whatever it is I’m doing, it’s working.
I ate at Fiesta again.
pposed to be the heartland of the state, with rural villagers who only speak Haryanwi, not even Hindi. The ride there was ok, but I couldn’t take pictures because the lighting was bad. I got out at Jind, and started walking to go see some rural life, through the crowded, busy town. I bought four bananas from one of probably 25 banana-vendors. Walking in the 100-degree heat for 15 minutes was unbearable. My shirt was soaked, I was turning into a brown man, and my eyes burned from the dust. Some of the people looked at me funny, especially when I whipped out the camera. I remember watching a 1981 movie in Anthropology Class called Dadi’s Family, about a family of Haryana farmers led
by the matriarch Dadi (meaning Mother-In-Law because a woman moves from her natal village to live with her husbands’). Anyways, I am positive I just found Dadi. She looks exactly the same but a little older, and was wearing the exact same outfit. I managed to get a picture of her. After that, I felt like I had accomplished enough for the day, so I turned back in a furious sweat, to the bus station. I saw all these uniformed schoolboys riding on the tops of buses, which looked like fun/extremely dangerous. I talked to one of the students, and a bunch of high-school kids and I jumped on top and rode the bus to Panipat, 60 km away. They all crowded around and wanted to talk to me, see where I was from, what I was doing in Jind, and how much sex I have. I was invited to one of their houses, but I was so exhausted I didn’t have the energy to try and hurdle the language barrier. Most of them got off the bus as we rode further and further to Panipat. On the way, I saw quintessential rura
l India; men in white kurta and turbans sitting under the shade of trees playing cards and smoking hookah, women carrying huge bundles of wheat and water pails on their heads, families being pulled on carts by water buffalo, endless plains of cultivated rice paddies, wheat fields, and sugar plantations. I passed the Panipat Thermal Energy Plant, a huge nuclear power plant, built right up against slums, rural houses, and rice fields. It was straight out of a movie, the British voice saying, “Planet Earth uses 3000 times as much energy as is being created by nature. Moreover, urbanization and rapid consumption of natural resources threaten global sustainability le
vels for future generations.” Panipat was a busy, dusty, sprawling, boring town, and I just wanted to get back to 
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