10/17/11- India
I don’t really know how to describe India. We had six days there and they went by like a flash but at the same time I can barely remember what happened on day one. They say the minimum amount of time you can spend in India is three weeks and I completely agree. With all of the other countries, by the last day I was usually ready to leave and I felt that I had a slight grasp on the feel of the country but not with India. When I boarded the ship on the last day and waved goodbye to India (lost the key to my room too, awesome) I was not ready to leave. I still had no idea what the country was all about. I hadn’t met enough Indian people, I hadn’t tried enough food, I hadn’t seen enough cities, I hadn’t observed enough spirituality. I don’t even feel like I scratched the surface of Indian life. It’s not that I fell in love with India, I’ll be honest, it’s hard to fall in love with somewhere that is so sad and poverty stricken, but I just wanted more time to explore there. More time away from the tour bus that drove through town like a neon sign that screamed “RICH TOURISTS” because that was all we were perceived as. More time to marvel at the architectural masterpieces, like the Taj Mahal, which was quite overwhelming. More time to appreciate the religious convictions and practices of the people as they wash themselves in the Ganges River. More time that I simply didn’t have.

India, like many of the other countries, was nothing like I expected, because thanks to the media, I have exotic, dream-like images in my head of what each obviously still fairly primitive society will look like. And each and every time we dock, the dumbass in me is still always surprised. We docked in Chennai, which we have learned is basically considered the armpit of India. I have friends who told people back home they were going to Chennai and they responded with “why the hell would you go there?” Because we can dock there for cheap and not get attacked by pirates in the process. I had booked a SAS trip that left in the afternoon of the first day so instead of braving the city for a few short hours, I lingered back and did some homework. Earlier that morning we had popped out on the deck to test the air and see how hot it was going to be. It was about 8:30 am and probably already 80 degrees. It was like a wall of heat. That smelled bad. It was like walking into a sauna without the steam, filled with rotting fruit, feces, sweat and something dead. There was garbage in the water, which was a color that was more brown than blue and there was a thick layer of smog over the city. I haven’t actually been to LA to see the smog but I’ve been near there and I would say it’s probably at least three times worse than in LA. India is a big country with way too many people living in it.

After loading all of us onto two buses, because some genius thought that a 55-person group was a good idea, we drove to the Chennai airport and flew to New Delhi. On our ride through Chennai, I got my first look at the streets of India. The buildings were mostly concrete but dirty, the streets were dusty, there were people everywhere and the traffic was crazy and only got crazier as the trip progressed. I think I’m just getting used to being in fairly impoverished places because it didn’t faze me as much as it used to. I felt like someone needed to take a pressure washer to the whole city but it wasn’t as “ghetto” as Ghana. There were sidewalks and streetlights but it was still dirty and a little dilapidated. One thing that is interesting about traffic in India is the vehicles. Their “taxis” are called rickshaws which are little cars with three wheels that are open air, but because they are pretty small (you can maaayyybbbeeee squeeze three people on the seat) they can zip between cars and buses. Also, basically everyone drives a motorcycle. I saw places where hundreds of them were lined up in a parking lot, they are everywhere but they, like the rickshaws, are also great because they can easily weave between the traffic.

We eventually fought our way through the traffic and onto the place. Our airline was actually way nicer than most of the airlines I’ve ever flown on, which I definitely did not anticipate since the airport was not even Pittsburg status and our flying experiences in SA weren’t anything to write home about. In India they also serve food on the airplanes that is actually fairly decent. We arrived in New Delhi in the evening and checked into our hotel. Our hotel was absolutely amazing. Its crazy to drive down the street and see people sleeping on the sidewalks everywhere but then arrive at this enormous hotel that has a lobby made totally of marble. The hotel also had a huge gate and you had to put your bag through a scanner when you entered. But after walking through the metal detector, we were greeted with a lei made of magnolias, a bindi and a glass of mango juice.
I grabbed a late dinner with a couple of friends at the hotel restaurant and skyped home.

On the second day, I awoke to a super early wake up call and ambled downstairs with my daypack ready to take our 6 am train to Agra. The train station wasn’t exactly Grand Central but we made it on our train. One thing that surprised me a little was the amount of people sleeping at the train station. It happened on the way there and on the way back. There would be a….bundle of four people in a row just sleeping with blankets waiting….at first I thought maybe it was just early. I mean, our train left at 6….so maybe people just got there early and decided to catch up on sleep. But then it happened again at the train station in Agra on the way back, people sleeping everywhere. I still don’t have an explanation for the sleeping train people but I just wanted to share that.

After arriving in Agra (two hour train ride) we had what really was third breakfast (early one at hotel, food on train, breakfast in different hotel). One thing I noticed about India was their lack of what I would consider a restaurant. On our trip we basically ate either on planes or in hotels but never regular restaurants. I was kind of annoyed because I had really wanted to eat real Indian food but when we drove around I realized that what I wanted was easier said than done (with apt consideration for my intestines). There were a lot of people on the streets with cooking items and they would make a bunch of things in the morning but it wasn’t exactly what I would call “street food”. These people weren’t the same as the hot dog/peanut vendors in NYC, it kind of seemed like that’s what constituted “eating out”. Since I am on the topic of food, I will continue with a couple other notes. For one, they love watermelon juice. I had never had watermelon juice before but it was served at almost every meal and it tasted exactly like a watermelon….nothing super special but it was definitely different. They also really like lime juice which doesn’t actual taste anything like lime juice, I heard people say it tasted more like orange juice. I agree to an extent, it had the same texture as orange juice but a little sweeter and with a twist of lime, but not the tart lime that we are all used to at home. Second, as I said before I was jazzed about getting some good, legit Indian food. However, after the numerous Indian buffets at hotels and meals on airplanes, I realized that Indian food in India is very different from Indian food in the united states, a realization I probably should have come to a long time ago. We were all so excited for curry and naan (which they had) but I don’t think I once saw a curry I recognized. They really weren’t that into curry, which I found incredibly surprising. Most of the dishes had a curry ish sauce but were mostly chicken with different spices or some sort of vegetable dish. On the last day I went to a cooking demonstration and the woman made a kind of masala, which I was super excited for because I love chicken masala, but it did not resemble any kind of masala I have ever had. It had chickpeas in it and it was chunkier and not as colorful. It was still good but not the same as home. I had heard that in China, Chinese food is completely different that what we have in the US and I should have made the connection that the same would be true for India but I was just too excited to have REAL Indian food. Oh well. The last thing that I thought was great was that at McDonald’s, they don’t serve beef. All the items are chicken or I think they had a Veggie Mac or something…it was interesting. At Subway they had the usual sandwiches but then they also had Indian style sandwiches like “Chicken Tikka”.

Returning from that giant tangent, we arrived in Agra and after our third breakfast we went to the “Red City”. I honestly do not remember the name but even if I did I would not be able to say it or spell it to save my life. It was this giant palace that one of the Mogul emperors built and lived in for quite some time. It was huge and made of some kind of red stone and the carvings on the bricks were truly exceptional. After the Red City, we stopped for shopping at a marble factory. They showed us how they do the marble inlay in their pieces and how much time and work goes into it. This same marble inlay is what covers many parts of the Taj Mahal and it really was amazing to see them work. After that lovely excursion, we went to lunch (they really did feed us way too much on this trip) and then headed to Agra Fort where another Mogul ruler lived and was kept under house arrest by his son. It had a total of 16 palaces I believe and was this giant sprawling area with tons of rooms and a view of the Taj. I should also mention that all of these palaces, both at the Red City and Agra Fort, are almost completely open air. There are covered areas but everything is outside basically. It’s a far cry from Versailles but still just as exceptional. After the Agra Fort we finally got to go see the Taj Mahal, what we had waited for all day. Since security in India is absolutely ridiculous (ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS) us ladies had to wait in line for over 40 minutes just to get patted down to go through the entrance after the gentlemen practically just walked through. At most of the security checks we went through (primarily airport) there were separate lines for the men and women and the women had to go into a curtained area to get frisked. It was all just a little ridiculous but I mean, so is airport security in the US.

So after waiting in line forever and almost missing the sunset at the Taj we finally made it. It was really amazing. I didn’t think it would be any different standing in front of it than seeing it on a post card but it really was. When you see post cards and pictures, you miss the detail of the marble inlay that is all over the building. I can easily see how it took 20 years to build, it truly was an absolutely stunning piece of architecture. I was actually a little overwhelmed when standing in front of it. I was surprised at the effect that this building had on me. I wanted to just stand and marvel at it for hours. It was absolutely amazing to see in person. Right before we left we met this guy who had just graduated from Harvard Law and was taking a couple months to travel before starting his job. He was really cool and gave me some great advice about law school. What was crazy though was that a girl in my group actually knew his friend! You don’t expect to make those connections in the middle of India; I feel like this trip is making my world so much smaller.

We took the train back to New Delhi and crashed (as in slept, not train accident). The next morning we got to sleep in a little more than the day before and hoped on our flight to Varanasi. My friend and I got upgraded to first class (score!) and enjoyed the lap of luxury for the whole 45 minutes. We arrived in Varanasi and took a bus to our hotel, about an hour away. The area immediately surrounding the airport was very rural. The roads were bumpy, buildings weren’t higher than a story, there were no sidewalks etc. Even as we got closer to the city, I was still surprised at how (if I may use this word) “ghetto” it was. Varanasi is one of the oldest and holiest cities in the world and it was the most rural and impoverished area I saw.

After we checked into the hotel (yet another super nice hotel nestled away in a big, dirty city), we headed to the Ganges River to see the evening rituals. We took the bus most of the way but then were put into bicycles rickshaws (a bike pulling a mini carriage seat) to take us the rest of the way. I have to say that I honestly was not sure that I would survive that ride, it was one of the scariest and most awesome moments of my life. Varanasi has no traffic laws. I’ll say that again, Varanasi has no traffic laws. It’s basically every man for himself on the streets. The traffic was absolutely insane! I thought we were going to get hit or run over a least a dozen times. One thing about India that drove me absolutely up the wall was the honking. Our bus driver was honking every 4 seconds and so was everyone else on the road. Apparently if you don’t honk, no one knows you are there despite that you are in the middle of the road. I am positive that I would have horrible road rage and probably die if I ever had to drive in India.

My friend and I somehow survived our ride through the streets of death and walked with our group the rest of the way to the river. Driving through the streets was actually really cool because everything was lit up and there were vendors selling all sorts of things. Everyone was out and about still and it felt like a real city. The river was very crowded and swarming with people trying to sell you things and giant insects. It would be cruel to compare the two but after saying “no I don’t want to buy your postcards” so many times, you just want to swat them away like bugs. I was distracted from the ritual at the bank by a very persistent man trying to sell me anything and everything, his name was John and man, John did not let up. He was determined for me to buy something and it had to be from him. Unfortunately for John, I had no money (although he didn’t believe me) and after he asked me to be his girlfriend, I had to sadly inform him that I already had a “boyfriend” in the US. So sad for John. These people were so persistent that I actually saw a boy running after a rickshaw for a good 15 minutes. They were all really friendly but it was exhausting. After seeing our share of the ritual and watching people float candles in the water for loved ones, we escaped the clutches of our “friends” and headed back to our rickshaws. At some point along our walk, the power went out in part of the city so as we were led down an alley to a fenced off, pitch black parking lot, most of us thought, for the second time that night, that we were going to die. Luckily we did not, and our awesome, super speedy driver found us and returned us to our bus.

We had to get up at stupid-o’clock the next morning. At least that’s how our main field office guy referred to it as. Many others call it 4 am. We got on our bus again, a couple of people were still drunk from the night before, and headed back through the now fairly deserted streets to the Ganges. We boarded our boat and started off just as the sun was starting to rise. Since it was stupid o’clock in the morning, the only people at the river, for the most part, were people that were there to pray. All the tourists were in boats on the river watching them pray. The river is said to cleanse you of your sins and people take that very serious. They were full on scrubbing themselves down in the brown water. We saw people meditating and people being cremated, people praying and people selling souvenirs. It was really cool to see people who come to the river every day or every week to do these rituals. It was quite beautiful. A handful of brave souls decided to jump ship and swim in the Ganges, I don’t think any of them ended up getting sick but most of us were not willing to chance it. They came up covered in dirt but on the bright side, their soul was clean. Overall, watching the sun rise over the Ganges was an incredibly peaceful experience.

After our boat ride, we flew back to New Delhi and went on a city tour. Unfortunately for our tour guide, we had rose at stupid o’clock and only had interest in sleeping. But we still all dragged ourselves off the bus to see a Hindu temple, Ghandi’s house and place of assassination and the tomb that the Taj Mahal was based off. After our lovely city tour we flew back to Chennai. We arrived around midnight in Chennai and it took us quite a while to get back to the port because SURPRISE the streets were closed. That’s right, closed. As in most of them were blocked off and there were police monitoring the blockades. We sat in front of one for a good 20 minutes before we had to turn around and try another road. Apparently in Chennai all the streets close around 10 or 11. I have no idea why and was shocked when we realized what was going on. We finally got to the port and had to go through passport control in order to enter. So we waited in line and got our passports all checked off. Then we got on the shuttles that run from the ship to the port gate. But then we had to get off and go through port security. Then as we passed the giant ship next to us that was loading brand new cars and construction machinery, we had to go through ship security. Needless to say, most of us were not happy campers. However, one thing that brightened my night was when a bottle of Bacardi was discovered in our goo bag. A goo bag is the bag where we all deposited our bag of liquids so that it could be checked since we were not allowed to bring liquids on the plane at all. We all found it hysterical. After going through ship security, I think I got back to my room at about 2 am.

The last two days in Chennai weren’t super exciting. I slept like the dead and caught up on the sleep that I had been lacking for the last 4 days. I then wandered out into Chennai with a friend and we did some shopping. On the last day I went to an Indian cooking demonstration and that was about it.

A couple last minute notes about things I saw in India: I haven’t really discussed the beggars. I was really nervous for India because I thought that I would be swarmed by sad looking starving children all the time. To my delight, I was not. However, the beggars were still around and it was still just as hard to see some of them. They had said that there would be many deformed beggars. The first thing I saw when I got on the bus in Agra was what I called, “the frog man”. That sounds completely insensitive I know, but that was literally what this man looked like. I have no other way of describing it. I saw at least two other people with the same problem, who crawled around and asked for money. In Varanasi, there were women with babies with empty bottles and street children selling bindis. It was so hard (at times) to do nothing. Part of me felt callous and unsympathetic to these people’s plights, I don’t know if I was just able to distance myself from India so as to take it in without cracking inside, or if I was just jaded by all my prior experiences. A girl in my group talked to a young boy who was blind in one eye. If you have seen “Slumdog Millionaire”, that is exactly what happened to this boy. If you haven’t, then I will spare you trauma. We spent so much time discussing the poverty in India, but it’s still crazy to see. Because so much of the country is poor, it is everywhere. I saw people sleeping on the streets everywhere. And it wasn’t like seeing people sleeping in doorways in downtown Seattle, There would be three people in a row with blankets over them just sleeping in the middle of the sidewalk. The few “houses” I saw as we drove through the cities were also appalling. It was like the townships in South Africa, but worse. They were bags and reeds put together. I can’t even imagine how people live in conditions like that. Everyone would be out on the streets during the day because that’s where the action is and I think because of the heat no one wants to be “indoors”. Since there were always people around it really just seemed like the streets of India were their home. People slept on them, they ate on them, they did business on them. I don’t know if that makes sense, but I felt like as we drove through the streets, I was watching people in their homes. It sounds so great to be all “India is their home” but in reality it is tragic.

This blog was probably the hardest blog for me to write because India was so different that it was impossible to talk about every little thing I saw. I also don’t really know how to react to India because like I said at the beginning, I did not feel that I had enough time there at all. So I apologize for taking so long to post this one and I hope it makes sense ☺