Things have changed here so much since my first trip to India. My initial impressions of Delhi were dominated by the young women who wore western clothes with attitudes to match. Even those who still wear traditional clothes are carrying around babies dressed in jeans. Change, of course is inevitable, but in a country whose culture is so very strong, I wasn't expecting it to be so rapid.
Life has changed at a fast moving pace the world over. As a teacher, I am educating kids for jobs that might not yet exist. So why is it so surprising here? It's because technology has made such advances and in spite of that, so many of the old ways remain. In Britain, society moves on, developments ripple through all aspects of our lives. For us, technology reaches all of the populous.
Martha is not yet three, and she has already received and sent her first emails (with help, obviously -she's not quite that bright!) For us, mobile phones, games consoles and the Internet are available and used by every generation. I saw the other day that Facebook's oldest member is 103 and uses the site to communicate with her 13 grandchildren.
And similarly here in India, I see mobile phones everywhere. So is the Internet. When I first travelled, the only means of communication was handwritten, on airmail paper (my kids wouldn't even know what that was) and a visit to the local Poste Restante. Then came the fax machine, but you had to know someone back home who had one. It wasn't until I went to Brazil in 1997 that I received my first proper email communication.
But now, every cafe in town has free wi-fi. Travellers are tapping away at their laptops, notepads, Blackberrys and iPhones. And so are the locals. There is one Internet cafe which I pass every day. It's got a funky interior and a wall of windows. It would be at home in any city in the world, except sitting at the row of computers, or relaxing on the multicoloured chairs, there is always a handful of Tibetan monks, fully robed and highly IT literate.
Gets me every time - a monk with a laptop! But the really crazy thing about it all, is that right next door is a building site, where Indian women are hard at work, mixing sand and lime with heavy spades, loading it into large bowls which they carry on their heads to where the men are laying bricks. It's always the women who have the worst jobs. They look so thin and delicate, but their petit frames belie their great strength. Some of them have babies strapped to their backs. No amount of technology is ever going to change their lives.
Nor will it reach the life of the ancient man who crouches opposite, wrapped in a blanket that hides all but his face, as he waits for someone to buy his small collection of vegetables.
We sit outside the cafe, the epitomy of 21st century life, run by uber cool Tibetans, total dudes, sipping machiatos and eating chocolate brownies, as a cow wonders by and stops to munch a piece of newspaper from the side of the road. It's soon followed by a small herd of goats on their way to somewhere, clearly known to them.
Smart Toyotas drive through the dusty streets, frustrated by the speed of a man pushing a hand cart that is his mobile sticker shop. Iconic Royal Enfields roar past wrinkled Tibetan ladies as they spin the prayer wheels outside the temple in the high street.
It's such a cliche to talk about the contrasts in India. We've heard them all a million times before: the difference between rich and poor; the colours and the darkness. But I wonder if anything is as crazy as seeing past and present moving so comfortably into the future. Everyone accepts everything as normal. Nothing is remarkable enough to turn heads. Like the camel carts walking the wrong way up the fast lane on our drive back to Delhi. And the fact that in our apartment we have a squat toilet and a modem. For the people who live here, it's just not extraordinary. Which I guess, just adds to the fascination of the visitors. And maybe it's a big part of the reason that India is so magic.
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