India Leaves an Indelible Mark - Asia
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Stumble It!Preparation is futile
No matter how hard you try, you will never quite be prepared for India. This can be a good or bad thing, depending on your outlook.
As I flew into Delhi, I was expecting the worst. We touched down in the dead of night, tired and weary. We passed through customs; everything seemed relatively normal, a little busy for the time of night, but normal.
We had pre-arranged a driver to take us to our abode in the popular Paharganj District. As we left the front of the airport, I was greeted by a legless beggar sprawled across the footpath. Tip-toeing around him I could not help but feel a little shocked. Later in the trip, such sightings would barely cause me to bat an eyelid.
The sight of a beaten up van that barely looked capable of moving was a cause for alarm. Move it did, and at a great clip. When I reached for my safety belt, our friendly driver reached across and snatched it from me.
“You will not need this my friend - this is India!”
I let out a nervous laugh. Not wanting to offend, I obeyed his command.
Later in the trip I would experience a similar intervention when trying to hold onto my rubbish for safe disposal. Like the safety belt, it was snatched from me and thrown on the ground.
“Relax my friend - this is India!”
I would hear this reassuring explanation often.
We bumbled along what resembled a road towards the centre of Delhi. In the dead of night there was little movement with the exception of the cows, which would appear from the most unlikely places.
We arrived to find our hosts asleep on the foyer floor. We felt guilty that we had woken them, but even more so that they would return to sleep on the floor when we were settled in our beds.
Taken for a ride
There was an air of excitement the next morning. After a particularly spicy breakfast, it was time to venture outside.The smells and sounds flooded our senses as we joined the bustling commotion in the narrow streets. How everyone got around avoiding a major collision was a mystery to me. We headed to the top end of the bazaar and reached the main road acquiring a small boy along the way.
“You looking for government tourist office? I'm your new best friend, I will take you there.”
He was charming, but even we newbies could sense the deceit. I admired the boy for his stamina. No matter how many times we tried to politely wish him on his way, he would stick with us. Eventually he realized we were wise to his plan. He scampered off in search of a new prospect to help him gain commission from the travel agent he was in cahoots with.
We reached Connaught Place without a plan. I loved the freedom of wandering aimlessly in a mysterious new environment. How quickly that freedom would be taken away.
“Hey you, yes you! You look like movie stars,” a cheerful voice boomed from a rickshaw slowing to admire our apparent stardom. Quite flattered by this charming gesture, we felt obliged to climb aboard his ride.
“This your first time to India?” often the first line of questioning.
“Yes first time,” I replied. This answer often got us into trouble
“Where you going my friends?” he asked as we crammed into the rickshaw.
“To the Red Fort, please.”
“Ah yes, very good sir, very good tourist attraction.”
Off we went bobbing and weaving through the traffic with no end of near misses. After five minutes of mayhem, we pulled up outside a bazaar.
“Ah, this does not look like the Red Fort?,” we protested.
“Friends, friends, this is a beautiful bazaar - first you look at the nice things then we go to the Red Fort.”
“I'm sure there are some nice things, but we really don't have time,” my friend explained.
“No no, you don't understand, you must have a look, many beautiful things.”
Neither party wanted to back down. We were adamant, he drove off. Shocked and with no idea where we were, we learned a harsh first lesson. You must always be firm when it comes to negotiations.
As a salesman I admired his persistence. This was not by any means the last time we would encounter the entrepreneurial Indian spirit.
Onwards to Agra and the Taj Mahal
The next day we made for the train station, our ribs still sore from the push and shove needed to acquire the tickets the day before. Stepping over the sleeping bodies and cringing at the sight of the the giant rats, I was glad to board the train and pull away from the station.
We arrived late. This was to be a recurring theme throughout the trip. A poster in the train station read "travel teaches tolerance", a lesson well learnt by the end of our travels.
We settled into another accommodation that night with some "superior 50,000" beer our hosts had kindly brought us. I suspected it may have been brewed in the bath tub; the headache the next morning confirmed it was not of the highest quality. With throbbing heads, we made for the Taj Mahal at the break of dawn. The need to throw up was hardly befitting of the greatest monument to love. I kicked myself when we passed through the gates - I realized in my drunken stupor, I had forgotten my camera. When the sun rose, the monument dazzled with different shades of pink. We admired its beauty in all its splendour. A camera wouldn't have done it justice.
Jaipur a photographer's dream
After The Taj Mahal I thought other monuments would look bleak. Jaipur known as the pink city however, provided us with no end of beautiful sights. Our guide Nisar, took great pleasure in showing off the spoils of the culturally rich capital of Rajasthan. His infectious smile and passive negotiation meant we handed over more money than we perhaps should have - an easy decision considering he had a number of mouths to feed at home.
It amazed me that a man who worked day and night to support his family had such a bright outlook on life. Moments like these truly humbled us privileged Westerners.
We took in the splendours of the the city palace, Jantar Mantar Observatory, Amber Fort and other architectural feats; then time to head back to Delhi.
I reflected on the expectations I had before I arrived. They had all been exceeded. The sights and colours were breathtaking, but perhaps what had grabbed me the most was the incredible strength of life - not the monuments, temples or landscape, but the people.
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