From Thailand I travelled to India. I arrived in Delhi on Tuesday, May 8th at 2:00am. Yeah, crazy hour, but that was the only flight available. The travel agent told me that that was somewhat normal for India, something about trying to beat the heat or something. I asked Lavanya about it and she said she didn’t really know, but that she, at least, hadn’t ever had a flight like that. Oh well. It didn’t matter too much to me, but I was staying with Lavanya’s late-sixties/early-seventies year old uncle, and I wasn’t too thrilled about my first impression being making him stay up until 2:00 to come and meet me at the airport. He did though, and was really nice about it. After we made it home I collapsed into my bed at around 3:00, thinking that I would have to wake up in two hours to catch a bus at 6:00 for an all-day tour of the city. I think Lav’s uncle noticed that I was completely exhausted though, and was kind enough to let me sleep in. I woke up around 11, thereby missing the tour, but we into the city for a while later on, just to sight see a bit and to go out for lunch. That was to be my sole relaxed, non-rushed day in India.
Sight #1 of 937,892.
The first day we traveled to Jaipur, where we saw Birla Mandir, Jantar Mantar, the Maharaja Palace, and the Amber (Red) Fort. All were incredible, and all are now a blur in my mind. We went by them all at about Mach 4. The following day we set off at 4:00am and made our way to Fatehpur Sikri and then to the Agra Fort. From there we traveled to the daddy of them all, the Taj Mahal. The Taj Majal was incredible. I had seen dozens of pictures of it beforehand, and I knew that it's always listed as one of the wonders of the world, but I really wasn’t expecting for it to be so beautiful. The first thing that struck me was it's size. It is massive. When you first walk into the grounds through the main gate you are far away from the actual structure. In between you and the Taj Majal is a huge garden, with avenues of trees, multiple flower beds, multiple fountains, and a raised marble water tank that runs the length of the garden and leads you to the reflecting pool at the base of the mausoleum. It looked big from afar, but it just got bigger and bigger as we got closer. Standing at its base, the mausoleum sits atop a marble base so as to raise it up and make it appear larger, and to allow it to be seen in its entirity from afar, and also it serves the practical purposes of supporting the structures and housing the actual graves, I was just overawed. It was breathtaking. Taking off my shoes, I made my way up to the center tomb. You could walk inside and see the cenotaphs of Mumtaz Mahal, the deceased wife for whom the mausaleum was built, and Shah Jahan, the grief-stricken emporer/husband who commissioned its construction. The surrounding interior walls were adorned, from floor to domed ceiling, with incredibly detailed decorations of flowers, plants, and passages from the Quran, all of which were formed by the insertion of carved precious gems into the marbled walls. After the Taj Majal we breifly flew by Sikandra and Mathura before arriving back in Delhi around 11:00pm. The sights were great, but the best part of the tour was the sweet, bright yellow tour hat that we all got to wear! Well, at least for the first day, then the clasp on mine broke and no one would sell me theirs...
Taj Majal baby!
The following day I was up early again, this time for a sight seeing tour of Delhi. In some 11 hours we saw the India Gate, Birla Mandir, Raj Ghat, the Parliament House, the Lotus Temple, the Indira Gandhi Memorial, the Nehru Museum, and the Ghandi Museum, which wasn't actually a museum but rather a huge park that housed his grave. Ba-Bamm!
Lotus Temple.
Ghandi's grave.
The following day I flew from Delhi in the north down to Chennai (formerly known as Madras) in the south where I was greeted at the airport by Lav's mother, who was in India for about 2 months visiting family. From the airport we drove to Lavanya’s mother’s parents’ house, where I met Lavanya’s grandparents and other various family members. One of her cousins/uncles (I’m not sure which) took me out on a quick tour of the city on the back of his motorcycle. That was an experience. I think, for my sake, he eased up on the speed and drove a bit more cautiously than normal, but we still just raced down the streets. It was exhilarating, but my life definitely flashed before my eyes a few times. The traffic in India is crazy, and a bike was obviously a much more convenient alternative to a car, as you can weave your way through the ever-congested traffic, many times with two cars occupying each one lane, but I imagine that the life expectancy for motorcycle drivers is probably about half a year. We drove through the city and made our way to the beach, which is one of the widest in the world. Lav’s cousin told me about how, in 2004, he was batting in cricket in the parking lot where we were standing when his concentration was broken by screams coming from the beach. He looked out towards the ocean and his gaze was met by that of the hundreds of fleeing swimmers that were racing towards him, desperately trying to escape the massive tidal wave that was bearing down on them from behind. He dropped the bat and raced into the center of the city, vaulting over a police barricade wall some half a kilometer off the coast that, a few seconds later, was struck by the pursuing wave. Over 300 people died that day on that beach. He said he still felt uncomfortable being there. For me though, the beach was great. I’ve already written that it was one of the widest beaches in the world, but it is incredibly long too. I think the whole of eastern side of Chennai is a beach. Looking to my right and then to my left, the sand just stretched on and on, seemingly without end, although admittedly the view was heavily obscured by air pollution. It was in the evening so the beach wasn’t at all crowded. The cool, refreshing ocean breeze, the unhurried, rhythmic ebb and flow of the waves, and the smells of the salt water, of the ocean and its entire periphery, combined and soothed. It was peaceful. We sat alongside the shore and talked for about half an hour, until a wave finally came that broke against the bank at our feet and soaked us. It was fantastic being at a beach again.
Wading in the tide at the beach in Chennai.
The following day I went on a bus tour of Chennai and its surrounding sights. I saw 3 different temples, all of which were incredible, a somewhat-eroded seaside temple/shrine, also impressive, sandstone ruins dating back some thousand years, interesting, and then we capped off the day with a trip to an amusement park, less than spectacular. It was funny, because at all of the sights Indians would come up to me and ask me to be in pictures with them or with their children, to the point where one time a line actually formed of Indian families waiting to take pictures with the white guy.
Interior and exterior views of a temple. 
Seaside Temple.
The next day I had the chance to go to an Indian wedding ceremony. It wasn't the actually wedding ceremony itself, but rather somewhat of an engagement ceremony, where the fathers of the bride and groom, respectively, sat down along with two Brahmen and performed some sort of religious ritual to unite the families and promise their children to eachother, the whole while with the betrothed son sitting beside. Then the bride-to-be came out and was presented with gifts and then she sat down with her betrothed and a further ceremony was performed. It was all really interesting, and I felt really lucky, honored actually, to be there. It was an important ceremony for them and for the family, and I was just some random white guy that came and crashed the party. Everyone was super nice to me though, and I was given a VIP seat right in the front. I visibly enjoyed all of the proceedings, and I think everyone else enjoyed that. I got a lot of smiles at least. I think many people were as curious about me as I was curious about the ceremony. It was great, a truely authentic Indian experience which I am glad I had the chance to see.
Pics from the ceremony.
The final day we took a trip to Pondichery, which is the capital city of Pondichery the territory, a former French colony that still maintains a lot of French influence, including French architecture, French as an official language, and one of the highest concentration of Catholics in India. The city was neat, and really pretty. We walked around and saw a few temples and Ashrams, I got to befreind an elephant, and we walked along the beach during the evening. During the day, before going to the city proper, we traveled to Auroville, which is an autonomous city/state/nation created as an international, self-sufficient, harmonious living community. ( http://www.auroville.com/ ) It was interesting, but strange. It was created by "The Mother" and really just seemed like some sort of idealized communist commune without the anti-capitalist political rhetoric. All I could think about when I was there was "Lost" and the harmonious living community there, and Cartman from southpark saying "I hate hippies."
Elepahant blessing me in Pondicherry after I gave it a ruppee.
Ghandi statue in Pondichery.
Just about everyone in India, save for Lavanya’s family, asked me for money. Every beggar’s eyes lit up when they saw me on the street, and when I would exit the buses on tours or wander away from Lav’s family when out with them, I would be attacked by beggars, salesmen, and sometimes just regular, everyday people who would tell me that I'm rich and should share. I would either politely refuse or ignore the beggars and ordinary people, and I tried my best to ignore the sales-men, -women, or often, -children and try to simply walk by them, but they were usually relentless. They would mob me, run around me and shout out one ridiculously high price after another, and if I tried break through the crowd, to walk or run away, they would grab me and hold on to me. When ignoring didn’t work, I would firmly tell them no, or mock them if I was feeling sardonic: “Oh wow, I’m your friend!”, “Really, special price for me?” , “Wow, really, hand made? Did you make his too? It looks surprisingly exactly the same..” If they tried to grab me I would brush or push them away, but everything got to be too much after awhile.
I was one of two white people on my first tour, and I had a window seat in the back. When we would park anywhere all of the vendors would see me through the window and would wait patiently as all of the Indians exited before me, and then pounce upon me as soon as I got off. One time, at the Red Fort in Jaipur, I exited the bus and was immediately assaulted by a group of about 10 men and children who were trying to simultaneously sell me postcards, carved elephants, and shoe shines for my Asics. We had to walk about 5-10 minutes to the fort from the bus, and the whole time I was besieged. I first ignored them, then told them "no", then tried to push them away, all to no avail. To say that I was growing agitated would be an understatement. Finally, with no end to the harassment in sight and with the attraction, whose interior usually meant sanctuary from beggars and vendors, in close proximity, I made a mad dash for the gate, shrugging/flinging off the teaming throngs of vendors and beggars screaming out to me and grasping hold of me trying to hold me back. I hurdled myself over outstretched arms and legs and dove through the gate and into the courtyard. They didn’t stop though, they had followed me in, and were screaming at me now in even louder, more agitated voices. Everyone was calling me crazy and yelling and throwing up their hands, the kids were pushing me and the gypsy women, who were previously seated feigning aging decrepency were up on their feet and pointing, along with the others, and screeching something about my shoes. I thought they were still trying to push the shoe-shines. I was somewhat stupified that they were able to follow me in and I tryed once again to run away. I made it over to my tour group and someone explained to me that I had to remove my shoes as there was a mosque in the inside of the fort. "Oh." I took off my shoes and apologized and explained that I had meant no disrespect and that I hadn't known. The kids/men/gypsy women wanted none of it though and were still calling me crazy along with multiple other profanities in both English and Hindi. Wow, I felt pretty embarrassed, and actually bad. I'm not religious or anything, but I don't want to disrespect another person's beliefs. It was really just a complete mistake on my part, and their castigations seemed more in reaction to my unwillingness to buy from them earlier than anything else.
It was amazing to me how much English was spoken in India. There are so many different languages in India, and although Hindi is the official Indian language of the union, it is only spoken by about 40% of the population. English really seemed to me to serve as the national unifying language. When not in the local language, printed advertisements were all in English. Commercials on TV were in English, the national and international news stations were all in English. Menus were in English. Radio DJs many times spoke in English. It was incredible. Lavanya’s uncle, who originally comes from Madras but who has lived and worked for over 40 years in Delhi, where Hindi is widely spoken, can speak Hindi enough to get by, but can’t read or write it. He worked in English though, and most everything written that he encounters in everyday life is either written directly in English or at least translated into it. The English in India is so interesting too. It is definitely Indian English. The vocabulary is about the same, more British than American obviously, but the accents are so strong that it seemed so foreign, almost like a different language. I guess English is a foreign language to most Indians, or at least a second language, but it’s a national language, and one that Indians don’t just use with foreigners, but one that they use to converse amongst themselves. The bus tours that I went on were for Indian tourists. When I was in the North the bus was filled with South Indians and when I was in the south it was filled with Northerners, I was one of maybe three foreigners on each tour. All three tours were in English though. The news was funny. I watched CNN India, in English, but with Indian news anchors and reporters, and I had to strain to follow the reports. For me, a native American-English speaker, the Indian accent was so strong that it was many times hard to follow two Indians having an English conversation. But for them intra-communication was easy, they all spoke Indian-English, and they all spoke with basically the same accent. I imagine that it is somewhat analogous to me travelling to some remote village in Ireland, and listening in on an Irish-English conversation (for the sake of argument saying that the speakers use an American-English vocabulary), and not being able to make out a word, even though it’s English. It was interesting.
I always hear/read about India in the news, about it's booming IT industry and it's soaring economic growth. I imagine places like Bangalore and Hyderbad and transforming themselves into really modern cities with high living standards. Chennai and Delhi didn't strike me as anything such. The cities just seemed chaotic and the chaos, poverty, and polution reminded me more of Bolivia than China, with whom India is constantly being compared. Both cities were dirty and the poverty of the populus was striking. Really, I couldn't go anywhere without a trail of beggars behind me, and many times those that weren't begging looked just as harried as those that were. Homeless people were lying everywhere, and dirty, mal-nourished children would alternate between begging for food and kicking rocks in the street. India's economy is booming, but from what Lavanya's family told me, and from what I saw, it's not trickling down. The per capita GDP is US$820. India is cheap, but not that cheap. With a skyrocketing population growth, and with most of that growth not coming from the elites of society, that GDP probably won't be increasing to much anytime soon...
India, for me, was great. It was incredibly interesting and incredibly beautiful. All of the sights that I saw were amazing, and all of the people I met were kind, outgoing, and eager to share their culture with me. Lavanya's family was perfect. Their hospitality was more than I could have ever hoped for. They set me up on awesome trips, fed me very well, paid for just about everything, let me ride shotgun, did my laundry... They treated me like part of the family, or, rather, more like a favored child from the family, the one that gets special treatment. I'm really glad I went. India was a completely different side of Asia. The heat was even ok. It was over 100 every day, but I found it kind of nice, and I definitely left with a rockin' farmer's tan as a souvenir.
2 comments:
so did the beggars/merchants try to pick your pockets? i'm wondering if you had to worry about that or if you had a hidden money belt, just out of curiosity.
no, not really. they would just grab at my arms and stuff, either to get my attention or to try to hold me in place. i definitely had a money belt though.
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