60. Traffic circles.

The Kowalczyks had a rather large Indian-made, Japanese-designed car, which actually fit four people comfortably in the back seat. Sid and Nan were a little close in the front.

Nan seemed to be uncomfortable, perhaps through a combination of sitting so close to Sid and also being so near the driver, or perhaps because she was on what, for her, was the wrong side of the car in the passenger's seat. Her skin was cool to the touch.

Sid turned and addressed Ed. "What is it that you do at the embassy, Mr. Kowalczyk?"

"Oh, call me Ed. All of Drew and Matt's friends do."

Sid smiled. "Ed, then." Ed worked at USAID, among other things making sure that funds got to local organizations for US government-supported programs. He was passionate about his work, though he was totally aware of the many forms of corruption that ran rampant not only among his colleagues, but throughout the Indian organizations they worked with. At the moment Ed was thinking of a colleague who dined out every night on the tabs of Indian bureaucrats courting American interests.

"I work for the part of the embassy that handles foreign aid," Ed said, oversimplifying his job slightly but puffing up with a slight sense of importance nonetheless.

"I see," Sid said politely. This week had been particularly tough on Ed. The current American administration was pushing all sorts of religious agendas on the aid programs, something that had become a regular battle for Ed where birth control programs were concerned. Sid thought about that for a moment, feeling the soft pull of compassion: by the time the sun rose, hundreds of children would have been born in the city. What kind of a world would they be entering? Which way would it go?

Linda interjected. "What do you do, dear? Both of you, actually. Are you students?"

"Yes," Sid answered for both of them.

"At the moment, film," Nan said.

"And you?" Linda asked.

"Philosophy," Sid said. "And public service."

A knowing look in Ed and Linda's eyes indicated they had put the final piece of the puzzle in place. Trust fund kid, they thought, literally in unison.

The car went around what seemed like the tenth traffic circle they had come across. "Are we going in circles?" Nan asked. "Seriously. This is, like, the fourth time we've hit one of these." Sid closed his eyes. The city was layer upon layer of history. Half a mile to their left, invisible behind the hazy darkness and the foliage of tall trees lining the traffic circle, was India Gate, and across from it, along a mile-long, wide, tree-lined path and surrounding lawns, the Prime Minister's residence, an imposing sandstone-colored complex of buildings with a central dome. The plan of the city was like a series of interconnected wheels, the spokes radiating out and crossing each other, concentric circles overlapping in teeming ripples.

"The main part of the city is practically built around them," Ed explained, more or less correctly. "They have them at the intersections of all the main roads, and pretty much where the main neighborhoods meet. A holdover from the British, all these crazy roads. In the States, you'd never have to go through all this to get from Point A to Point B." The driver's eyes darted to the rear view mirror and back to the road, unnoticed by all but Sid. "Just as well," Ed continued. "Otherwise the congestion on the main roads would be impassable. This way at least it's spread out." The air conditioning hummed as the car pulled off the roundabout, its headlights (and others') flashing over a peculiarly shaped pointed sign that said, in Hindi, Urdu, and English, that they were going toward Vasant Kunj. Nan was thinking, as she saw the sign, that "Vasant Kunj" was spelled exactly the way she guessed it would be.

A couple of auto rickshaws, metal and vinyl tarp shells over three-wheeled scooters, darted along to the left of the car. In front of them, a brightly-pained truck festooned with tinsel proclaimed, "horn please."

"It's good to be back," Sid said to the driver in Hindi. Nan tensed. The Kowalczyks shifted as well: Matt and Drew because they had never bothered to learn Hindi that well all the years they had been in India and always felt this fact most acutely when they first came back; Ed because he was impressed by any Westerner that had bothered to learn the language; and Linda because she had finally developed the ear to know that Sid's Hindi was completely unaccented. The driver was merely stunned, but recovered quickly. He smiled broadly. "Then the city welcomes you back," he said.

They drove on in silence.