November 18 - I’m hacking away through first real feelings of discomfort here in Delhi, and not at all the concern I expected (but should have guessed). The air quality has turned nasty since Diwali—really since the temperature started dropping with the onset of autumn. Temperatures in the daytime and evening have dropped to the 60-80s, compared to the heat of the summer when the middle of the night sweltered at an almost constant mid- to high-90s. As a result of temperature drops, Delhi is shrouded in a good old fashioned inversion layer, meaning colder upper air traps the warm air nearer the ground—air that is loaded with woodsmoke, coal smoke, industrial emissions, car exhaust, breathing green plants, and who knows what else. The ozone levels are alarmingly unhealthy during peak commuting times. Dust and particulates are a worse problem, with so much construction, sweeping, and stale air. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but I always thought inversion layers were associated with valleys or plains near mountains. Delhi is fixed on a plain, and there are mountains to the far north, but not close enough to hold in the bad air—or so I would think. However, since Monsoon season is over, there has been no precipitation and not even a hint of wind in the past month or more.
So the air is thick with smoke. I walked out of my office building and could see the grey pall over the city. The Lotus Temple, no more than a quarter mile from my building, was almost invisible through the early evening haze. And I am breathing shallowly, avoiding the acrid gummy hack sticking at my sternum. The last time I felt like this was in Southern California in the 70’s when we visited my Aunt Jaroldeen and her family and we took a mid-week, mid-day trip to Huntington library. The smog there was yellow-grey, but I remember feeling suffocated, choked and uneasy.

I am mostly concerned for Isaac, who has asthma issues from when he was little. I can tell it still affects him sometimes. This air has to be hard on his system. Jagsir (our driver) says that this is unusual, even for post-Diwali. He has the same hack but attributes it (just as they did in Brazil, I recall) to changes in temperature. Diwali, the festival of lights, has a fireworks tradition that leaves the air thick with burnt powder. It no doubt contributes to the pall but can’t be the real culprit. I figure more and more cars on the road. Most of the tuk tuks and buses here run on Compressed Natural Gas—I just don’t know if that minimizes the impacts or has different kind of bad actors. I can’t even imagine what it would be like if they didn’t use CNG.

I am checking with the American School to see what they do about unhealthy air days and the kids. Early indications are that they don’t do anything. Now I am scheduled to speak to the Board of Trustees on air pollution and school policies. I fear turning into a helicopter parent, if I’m not one already, but this is a serious health issue that needs attention. I also wonder if the school can’t exert some influence beyond its protective walls to advocate for the health of Delhi school kids generally, who are the most at risk. Right now, I will just focus on giving the school an idea of my concerns and some resources for at the very least getting sensitive to the issues and risk.

It gets dark early these days, not as early as Seattle, of course. The shops along the route home are lit up. It is so intimate because you see into these shops that don’t so much have doors—they are fully open to the street and the wares are all visible. Slack-jawed salesmen peer out at the traffic, dogs recline on the front walk. The rising full moon looks orange and milky like a curry. Air pollution has a few beautiful side effects—a smoggy silver lining. Namste.