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Delhi, India 8/22/07
I picked this hotel out on the internet because it was one of the few options that had a gym and I’ve found that getting some exercise at least a few times a week is not just healthy it’s vital to my happiness. In other countries, when finding a gym wasn’t possible or I just didn’t want to spend the money on one, I’ve solved this exercise need by going for runs, hikes, walks in the parks, renting bikes, etc. usually killing two birds with one stone; sightseeing and exercising. In India I found these options to be harder to pull off but I digress. I was talking about this hotel.
I booked it for the gym and then through some confusion on the map didn’t realize that it was basically a resort outside of town all by itself. The ironic part is now that I’m here I’m in no shape to use the gym! Well not yet at least. I’m hopeful that before I check out I’ll feel up to working out.
Four days ago as I was leaving the town of Panjim for the second time, I started to feel really run down. It’s a feeling I’ve experienced a few times in this crazy year of traveling. I knew a little bug had gotten in the system despite all my wellness efforts. It was time to find a place to lay around awhile and let the body fight off the illness.
Unfortunately that place to lie around was 2 days travel away in Agra and I had 18 hours to kill in the Paharganj area of Delhi before I got there. Delhi’s a huge town and again I didn’t come close to seeing most of it but I do know that the Main Bazaar road in Paharganj is one of the worst places you want to be with an upset stomach. It made Koh San Road in Bangkok look like …well Singapore to reference a recent spot.
I ended up in Paharganj because I had already made plans to meet up with a friend there, Marieke, one of my friends from Hampi that I’ll talk about soon. So, always the optimist, even though I didn’t feel well when I left Panjim for Delhi I continued with the plan. As I spent the next day puking in the bathroom on the top floor of a $5 flop house in Delhi I wondered when I would ever learn to listen to my body.
Well I must be getting better at it because now I’m in a cushy, western, non-traveler, hotel room and while part of me hates being here and I’m bored out of my mind, there is a deeper part of me that knows my body and mind needed a rest. I’m also justifying this to myself as a means of preparation rather than just wussing out. I start an 18 day trek in Nepal in just 3 days. I need to be healthy. Let’s hope the diarrhea is gone by then!!
OK, India, where do I begin? How do I begin to sum up a place like this? The cliché “love & hate” jumps to mind but I think both are to extreme to sum up my feelings. I think my thoughts are more like “amazed and confused”. You could probably throw in saddened too.
I guess I should start with the places I visited. After my last entry I wrapped up my time at Baga Beach in Goa with my first new friends of the trip. I met Adam and Kirke at the Auyervedic Spa that I visited. They are both Americans but have been living abroad in various countries for over a decade now. Currently they are teachers at an International school in Qatar.
We enjoyed a few laughs and stories during my morning at the spa. Adams warning that they use a lot of oil for the massage, “I’m talking A LOT!” rang through my head during my entire slippery rub down. Before we all left the spa that day they asked me if I wanted to get together for drinks that night. I enthusiastically said yes. They met me at a beach shack bar near my place that I had visited before and we had a great evening telling stories and sharing opinions over cold Kingfisher beers and a shisha; more International backpacker friends to hopefully cross paths with again.
I added even more backpacker friends to the list at my next destination, Hampi. It was an all day train ride from Vasca de Gama to Hospet (the nearest train station to Hampi) and 20 minutes into it I met Axel & Jenny from Germany. The three of us ended up crashing at the same guest house in Hampi and at dinner that night they introduced me to some others they had met on the journey; Isabella & Fillippo from Italy, and Karine, Fabrer, & Clovis from France.
This became my gang for a few days and I really enjoyed the company. I still did some sightseeing on my own but we all met up for most meals over the 3 days that I was there. Good times!
Hampi was an amazing spot. It’s a different climate from the hot humid tropical coast of Goa. Hampi was more like the desert. The scenery reminded me a lot of Boulder Utah and my time hiking there last June.
Hampi is a small town but what put it on the map for most of us backpackers are the many ruins, temples, and sculptures that surround the area. I’m far from an archeologist, and the depth of my knowledge with places like this usually stops at “Wow, that’s cool!”
So for lack of a better educated description the area is home to ancient Hindu temples, bazaars, and shrines mostly around 500+ years old. The ruins are sprawled out over many miles much like the Angkor ruins in Cambodia. I think I found those ruins more impressive though….Hampi was still amazing to see of course and I did say “Wow, that’s cool!” a few dozen times.
Above: Sunset
Below: Sunrise
After Hampi I spent about 2 days traveling north that included an overnight bus next to a big, sweaty, snoring guy, a crowded flight to Delhi, and an even more crowded train to Agra. (I don’t know how I got sick?!) It was long slow travel made even harder by an upset stomach for half the trip. When I made it to Agra I checked into a nice hotel ($75 a night) cranked on the AC, and went to sleep for about 16 hours.
I had planned to visit the famed Taj Mahal, which was just a mere 3 km from where I slept, as soon as I woke up...whenever that might be. When I did wake up around Noon the next day I felt better than I did when I arrived so, again always the optimist, I figured a good nights sleep was all that I had needed. It was time to stock up on some cash though so before heading to the Taj I set out in search of an ATM. The front desk at my hotel said there was one about a10 minute walk away and they gave me directions. Directions that included “…it’s the first right past the elephants.” I loved it!
I found the ATM without any problem but by the end of my 10 minute walk there I was exhausted and in need of my $75 bathroom. I hopped in a bike taxi back to the hotel and was back in bed in less than 5 minutes. That was the extent of my first full day in Agra. I figured the Taj has been standing there since 1648. It would be there the next day.
In hindsight I’m glad I waited. After my full day of sleeping and watching my only English speaking TV channel option (which by the way was a Christian programmed station out of South Bend, Indiana…in between their Christian “news” programs they showed old episodes of Bonanza, The Beverly Hillbillies, and The Cisco Kid. I saw Ricardo Montalban play a Native American on Bonanza….I laughed every time he spoke. I guess any accent would do.) I was feeling a little better and decided I would tackle the Taj at sunrise . So at 5:30 a.m. I made my way to the most famous monument ever built for the love a single woman.
It was a beautiful morning and as the powerful Sun rose higher with every minute the Taj seemed to glow whiter and whiter. It is an amazing, beautiful, structure that lives up to all the hype. The sunrise viewing was nice and by 8 a.m. as I saw a steady stream of tourists flowing in and swarming it I realized how nice some of my people free photographs of the monument were going to be. 
After Agra I pretty much just made my way to where I now sit in Delhi. I feel better with each day but I’m still a little worried I won’t be 100% when I reach Nepal. OK, I’m a lot worried. I went to a chemist and got some medicine a couple days ago and spoke with a doctor here at my fancy hotel. I guess there's another positive for staying here. He said I needed to keep taking the pills. My symptons usually go away around day 6 or so. Delhi has more sights to see but I’ll play it by ear depending on how I feel. Plus frankly I have visited enough temples, shrines, markets, and bazaars in this country. I’m ready for something new.
Well that pretty much sums up the geographic parts of India that I have wandered, now for the not so tangible experiences.
Before coming to India I did my standard research which is to say I skimmed through a Lonely Planet, got some general tips from friends that have traveled it before, and reached out to my “network” for contacts that are actually from India. Basically I got just enough info to have a rough idea of where I wanted to go, by region at least, but not too much set in stone other than the flight out. It’s touring, not wandering, if you already know where you are going before you get there.
Of all my pre-trip planning, the words of my trekking buddy Kristen proved to be the most accurate. She said the Indians were extremely nice, helpful, and curious and I should try to meet as many as possible. She was spot on!
As for the Indian's curiosity, once you get past the weird feeling of people staring at you everywhere you go it becomes easier to embrace it but it can be a bit tough at first. Most of the people staring at you are just curious because you are different than what they normally see, but just like any individual, some are just shy. Staring is all they will do. Eventually some will talk to you and usually they start with these questions:
1) Where are you from?
2) “What is your good name”?
3) What do you think of India?
I must have answered these questions a thousand times on this trip. Most of the time I tried to be as happy and eager to talk to them as they were to me but I’ll admit sometimes I just wasn’t in the mood. Sometimes you just want to get to where you are going and not say a word, especially when you are not feeling well. This must be what a celebrity feels like…only I wasn’t cashing checks based on my fame so I won’t feel to guilty for being occasionally cold to “the public”.
Generally the Indians are extremely helpful. I can think of a dozen instances off the top of my head where one of them stopped to offer me assistance or directions. Sure half the time I didn’t need it. Can’t a guy just stand on a corner looking around without the rest of the world thinking he’s lost? Of course the other half of the time I did need help so it was nice that I didn’t have to look far. This would include every train ride. If it wasn’t for some nice person helping me out I never would have gotten off at the right stop.
There are a few specific instances that jump to mind though that I want to make sure I remember. The first was night one out in Baga. I had a few days in one spot, no reason to get up in the morning, it was Saturday night; time to enjoy myself! I was kicking back in a reclining chair on the beach at Xavier’s enjoying the people watching and a cold beer. Xaviers is more of a lounge on the beach than a crowded bar and a person sitting alone there stands out, especially a Caucasian, so it didn’t take long before I was invited to join a table of Indians doing the same thing that I was, just chilling out watching the waves crash on the beach. When that group moved on, instantly another group approached me and invited me to sit with them.
I had a great time throwing back drinks with random friends for the night and took note again that everyone acted very similar to how a group of my friends would be acting if we were out in the States. I find fewer and fewer things that separate us all. My favorite moment of the evening happened close to Midnight. There were just 3 of us sitting there and one of my new friends, who was a few drinks past everyone else, turned to his other friend and started whispering. His friend rolled his eyes at me and said to his friend “Why are you whispering to me in Hindu?!” He doesn’t speak it! A good laugh followed from all 3 of us and the big secret to have another round was openly discussed. It nice to know that drunken “close talking” is a cross cultural phenomenon.
Probably my longest cultural interaction occurred on the train ride to Hampi. I had moved to an open window seat earlier in the trip. A second class sleeper car mostly filled with backpackers that took advantage of the open space and bench style seats. I enjoyed several hours laying down parallel to an open window watching the scenery roll by as my iPod shuffled through it’s memory of songs. This is one of my most favorite things to do of course. God I love traveling by train!
A few hours outside of my stop at Hospet the train picked up a lot more passengers and soon the seats around me, normally designed to hold 7 passengers, were filled in with about 10 Indians. They were all in there mid-40’s, probably considered lower middle class, and they all knew each other.
I sat up to make more room for them despite their gestures to stay as I was. Some started playing cards but soon, just like in the Gambler, boredom overtook us and we began to speak. I noticed one of them staring at my iPod and when I popped out my ear buds he pointed at it and said “radio?”
I said, “Sort of. Digital music.” To which I saw a confused face look back at me confirming my instant thought that this guy probably wasn’t going to understand “digital music”. Thus began my iPod tutorial with 10 Indians who had never seen one before.
The Beatles were the first band in alphabetical order that I thought they stood a chance of recognizing so I hit play on their catalogue and passed it around. I got some head nodes and smiles but then froze their stares as I put on the video for U2’s “Where The Streets Have No Name” I felt like John Dunbar with a coffee grinder. (A Dances With Wolves reference…) I think the biggest iPod hit though was when I put on my photo slideshow. They liked identifying some of the International landmarks that I have visited and studied the pictures with snow closely but the pic of Jillian wearing a bikini in the BVI’s got the most smiles and head nods. “Wife?” one of them asked.
“No. Girlfriend.” I said.
“Better!” he replied and laughed.
The children of India were the source of many of my most sad images but there were also a few moments of fun with them. Like when I’d catch a kid staring at me while I was at the checkout stand of a store. I’d slip them a chocolate even though they had not asked for anything. My favorite encounter happened at the Goa airport. I came around the corner of my gate area to find 5 kids about 8 years old flinging yo yo’s. Ahhh, they read my mind. That’s my most favorite thing to do while waiting for a flight.
I pulled out my trusty Yomega Raider and Walked The Dog into the group. I was an instant hit and after showing off a little began some individual lessons. The parents sitting nearby loved it and reminded the kids to pay attention and learn as the P’s snapped some photos. One of the Dad’s came up to me and we talked for a little bit.
He pointed at one of the boys and said “This one here I could barely get to put that thing down before, now he’ll never stop. His Mother’s going to kill him.”
I laughed and said “There’s a Mother in America that sympathizes with her.”
By far though the most intense day I had when it came to interacting with the locals was August 15 in Hampi. The date’s significant because it is India’s Independence Day and 2007 marked their 60th Birthday. Hampi is a small place and there only significant celebration of the holiday was a small parade of school kids and a couple ceremonial flag raisings in the morning. What made the date impact me were the thousands of Indian tourists that trekked to Hampi for the day.
Hampi is considered a holy place but these were not religious pilgrims. Just hard working Indians on a day of sightseeing, and what could make some 500 year old Hindu shrines even better? Well meeting some Westerners along the way of course!
I had woken early that day, along with a few of my European friends, to watch the sunrise over the horizon of boulders. After breakfast I took the rest of the morning off for a little nap and work time. So when I ventured out alone to see some temples at around 3 p.m. the peaceful quiet streets I had seen at sunrise were now like Disney World in the desert.
I kept moving through the crowds on my way to my specific destinations while a barrage of “Hi! Where are you from?” flew at me and I politely dodged hand shakes. I smiled of course but it was really weird and it took at least an hour before I let the guard down and embraced it. These were not taxi drivers outside a train station. They weren’t trying to direct me anywhere or sell me anything. They just wanted to meet me, and not really even me, any foreigner would do.
Soon I embraced it. Call it my one man American PR campaign. I put on the stage persona a little and started to crack jokes when I could and asking my own questions in return to theirs. Each time I would stop to talk to a few people a crowd would swarm around me. If I sat in one spot, the crowd would form around where I sat. After a few minutes of chatting, the crowd would move on and another group would see me sitting alone and run over.
In addition to the standard questions the other standard request was a photograph. They all wanted to take a picture with me. Here is where I really cheesed it up! I’d throw my arm around them, flash up a peace sign, make everyone scream...basically anything to keep me from getting bored…and they always loved it. I stared counting at one point and posed for 50 photos in about 3 hours. After that I stopped counting.
I took a few pics of my own but quickly realized this was a bad idea. Digital cameras are not real wide spread here but they the all know what they do. So after you take the pic, they all want to see it. 30 hands all grabbing at your camera is never a good feeling. Plus the kids come running like it’s a game at the fair. They all want to have their pictures taken and then viewed back to them. It’s cute at first…at first.
When I met back up with my European gang that night for dinner they confirmed that they had the same kind of afternoon that I did. As I said earlier, Hampi is a holy place which in Hindu means no meat and no alcohol. Axel & Jenny had rented a scooter that day and discovered a place about 4 km away that was apparently just outside the holy rules of Hampi. They quickly sold us all on their plan for dinner and drinks and after some haggling with the scooter man on rental prices the eight of us zipped through the night like Hells Angels on Vespas.
We found the place with no problem and there was already a table of English, Irish, and Ausies doing exactly what we had in mind. Soon some Dutch and French arrived too. Everyone had the same tired look on their faces and everyone immediately ordered a cold beer. I like hitting the places where the local’s are as much as possible but that night was perfect and a lot of fun. Plus it wasn’t like I was at the Hard Rock Hampi. It was a local place….just full of Westerners.
They were celebrating a birthday at the UK table and so all the tables sang Happy Birthday to him. After the song the Birthday Boy raised his glass for a toast and said “Here’s to never having to tell anyone my good name ever again!” There was much rejoicing.
The people of India will always stick out to me as my most favorite part of my experience here. Unfortunately what I will always remember just as vividly about the country is the pollution and general filth of everywhere I saw. I speculate it must be a direct result of the huge population because I’ve seen many poor countries and places; none of them come close to India.
Cars, buildings, factories, trucks, and busses all spew out visible black smoke, and not just in the large cities. One of the most telling views came from my window on the train. We were passing a pretty green and brown field being plowed by 2 white oxen in the shadow of an oil refinery with 3 tall smoke stakes. Two were billowing out gray clouds and the other a ball of flames.
In addition to the toxic emissions there is trash and debris everywhere. People just don’t care and throw things anywhere. Even in Hampi, “a sacred, holy place” I ran into some guys drinking some beers behind one of the temples. (Hey it was Independence Day!) I stopped and talked to them for a couple minutes and when one of them was done with his beer he just threw the bottle against a wall, a wall about 500 years old mind you. Nobody reacted at all.
After the trash the next level of filth is the feces and urine, and no, not just from the animals. The animal part I could get used to and understand. There are cows everywhere, even in the cities, but also pigs, goats, chickens, and the occasional camel or elephant. While waiting in Hospet for my overnight bus I took note of a small donkey that came wandering through the bus terminal. It was like a stray dog in a city, only a donkey! It’s head down stopping at various piles of trash to root his nose around.
I’ve been trying to think of a polite way to write this next part but I can’t think of one so I guess I’ll just be blunt. The number of people I saw either urinating or defecating blew me away. It’s outrageous really, especially at the train stations. You are standing on a platform waiting on a train and people just jump down onto the tracks and take a squat. I saw people on curbs of the roads, on the edge of a bridge, along the river banks, everywhere! I pick on this part because it adds to the filth and I don’t think there is a reason for it. I just don’t understand how they as a society can get used to it.
You also see beggars that are sick, deformed, and diseased, usually only in the bigger cities, but I won’t complain about this. Don’t get me wrong, it’s very sad but it didn’t disgust me. There were a lot of sad things here but I felt compassion for the country as they try to grow and deal with the problems. However, I believe the answer to most problems has to start with the individual and for Indian’s that would be not littering and finding the proper place to relieve yourself.
The natural landscapes I took in while wandering here were beautiful; rolling hills, green jungles, rice fields, boulders and desert, long beaches with crashing waves….it’s only where man has staked his claim that it becomes abhorrent. I suppose civilization as a whole is a filthy thing. We just find better ways of hiding it.
India seems to be trying to deal with the trash problem in some places. Like at the Taj Mahal gas powered vehicles are not allowed within 2 km because the emissions were turning the white marble brown. If the air does that to hard rock, can you imagine what it’s doing to our soft lungs? They have declared other parks in the country plastic free. There are signs posted that state it’s illegal to posses any plastic; bottles, containers, etc. in that area. Not just litter, but even posses these items.
A line Thoreau wrote in Walden has run through my head a few times recently. “I would rather sit in the open air, for no dust gathers on the grass, unless where man has broken ground.” Boy how true is that. Thank God Henry did not live long enough to see the spread of plastic bottles.
I think that about covers my thoughts on this section of the trip. I worry that when I post this blog, or even just tell people about my experiences here, I will come across as elitist or snooty; a neat freak looking for sterile adventures. Of course I could line up old roommates that would attest that this is not the case. I am not that kind of person and that is not my feeling here. These are just my observations.
While I won’t list India in my most favorite places of the world I am glad that I came here and I would definitely come back. There is still so much I need to see. I am a firm believer that the journey is the reward….and my short 3 weeks here has definitely been a journey!
MJF
“It does not require money to be neat, clean, and dignified.”
Mahatma Gandhi
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