As I ride the escalator up from the
metro station to the street, it feels like life is moving in slow
motion. I'm tired from the flight, there are few people in the metro
for some reason, and I haven't really seen the light of day yet. I'm
in no rush, just walking through another new place on another
afternoon. Then the metaphorical alarm clock rings, daylight burns my eyes, and
India fully inundates my senses. To say it was sensory overload
would have been a gross understatement. It is as if someone started
screaming in my ears, put a kaleidescope to my eyes, put smelling
salts up to my nose, through dirt in my mouth, and put me in a sauna;
all at the same time.
There are people everywhere, hundreds
of yellow and green rickshaws zooming about, and a massive train
station in front of me. The weather can only be described as smokey,
dusty, and hot as hell. My first order of business is to find a
guest-house. I know the backpacker area is past the train station
and down the main bazaar road. My first obstacle is the train
station. Do I go through it, around it, over it?
I decide to go
through the main gate with the masses of others. A security
checkpoint welcomes all those who wish to pass through. I join the
sea of people pushing through the entrance. The guy with the wand
waves it over me and points to my pocket, out of which I produce a
cell phone. I pass through. I find that there are stairs up and over
the tracks, so I take them hoping that the other side of the station
is at the end. I pass by people sleeping on newspaper, eating with
their families, and carrying all kind of packages big and small. I
see guys holding hands, people talking on cell phones, beggars. My
intuition turns out to be correct and I get to the other side of the station and
out onto the main bazaar. The bazaar is the Indian version of a
market. You can buy almost anything and it's a frantic place.
The first hotel I get to is nice but
too expensive. Of course the guy recommends another place close, so
I play along and follow the guy down a small alley which smells like
urine. We pass an internet shop, a couple hotels, and a restaurant;
all in this small alley. The rooms at the new place are still too
high so I tell them thanks and look around on my own again. Locals
get commissions for taking tourists to certain places, which I am
quite aware of. Not falling for that! I eventually find another
place close for a good price and call it my home. I take a nap.
After waking up I venture out into the
bazaar again to do some exploring and find something to eat. Along
with the usual motorbikes and rickshaws I am used to in Asia, cows
are a new addition to the street characters; cows. Now, I'm not sure why
there are cows walking down crowded city streets, but there are. It
boggles the mind.
Now I've had the “wow, THIS place exists!” feeling quite a few times now in my journeys, but India takes the cake so far.
The next morning I set off to go exploring the rest of the city. I head back to the metro and hop on. I wander around the main cultural museum for a couple hours and learn all sorts of India-related trivia. Then I head off to Hanuman's tomb, a famous Hindu temple often called the "mini Taj". It is thought that this temple was the design precursor to the Taj Mahal in Agra which I will visit in a week or so. The last place I decide to visit is a Muslim mosque. This is where the fun begins.
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I ask a local water vendor whom I just bought I water where the temple is. He points behind him down a small street packed with cows, people, and other street vendors. He tells me this is the shortcut, I thank him. Looking ahead, I take a deep breath and start walking. I realize that this street leads me into a maze of small alleys and streets. There are small shops on both sides of the street and I'm immediately disoriented. There are meat shops with dead lambs strung up, jewelry shops, shops which I have no idea what they sell. People stare at me as I pass, but I'm used to it at this point in my travels. When you go to someone else's country/home you're the weird one, not them. It doesn't really phase me anymore. I mostly respond with a "Namaste!" (Hello/Goodby) and a wave.
I'm half lost and half simply exploring at this point. I pass a little park, which has been recommissioned as a goat hangout. People with Muslim hats on and white robes pass me here and there, so I know I must be close to this mosque. There are old people sleeping on the side streets. Children run about playing games, older folks sit on the streets resting. Everything is out in the open. It's a truly bizarre place. I ask a shop owner where the mosque is located. He responds in a thick, Hindi-accented English something about "following the flowers". I'm not immediately sure what this means, but give the obligatory thank you and head off. I ask another shop owner where the mosque is located and get jumble of "go straight, then veer right, take your first left, then your next sharp right and then it there" Ok, not helpful. As I walk onward, I notice a couple vendors selling red flowers. Then I see a couple more, and the advice to "follow the flowers" makes sense. I follow maybe 12 of these vendors and arrive at the mosque.
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| "follow the flowers" |
I realize that no one has shoes on and, at about the same time, someone else notices as well. They point to my shoes and say something in Hindi. I take my shoes off and walk around with them for a couple minutes until someone tells me to put them in a bin with some others. They guy offers to watch them for me. I'm not even inside the temple at this point.
There are people singing and playing instruments, I try to be a fly on the wall and watch. It doesn't work though. A couple younger guys see me and want to take a picture with me. I oblige and start talking to them. They are from India but are traveling around as well. They're not Muslim, they explain. After awhile we both decide to leave. They offer to give me a ride to the metro station so I think "hmmm, sure, why not? I've never been to India before and I've only known you for guys for about an hour. Hopefully you won't take me to my demise." What comes out is: "Sure, that would be great! Thanks!" I get in and we make a couple stops before the metro station. First we get a mango juice at tone of the street side stalls and stand around for a bit talking. Then we hop in the car and drive to another street side stall to get some Bindi's (I wasn't sure what this was either). It turns out that they are Indian cigarettes. My new friends buy 3 from the guy and we smoke them by the side of the street. I don't normally smoke but I'm not going to turn down a cultural experience. We continue driving and they explain what some of the things are as we pass. In the end they drop me off at the station and bid me farewell and tell me to call them if I need anything in India. Cool people.
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I hear that riding the trains in India
is an experience in and of itself so I book my first train to
Jaisalmer; one of the furthest cities west in India and about as
close to Pakistan as I want to get on this trip. I book a 'sleeper'
ticket on the train which basically grants me my own padded bench and
a window for the next 17 hours. I want the real train experience in
India, and this is it. The journey begins at the train station
itself which was a chaotic mixture of people, trains, platforms,
dust, garbage, people, and more people. My first order of business
was to find the platform my train arrives in. After a bit of walking
and thinking I come to the conclusion that there must be a main board
which lists all the trains and their corresponding platforms. Sure
enough I find it, realize immediately that it is written in Hindi,
and relax again when I find my train number: Platform 10 it is!
I get to Platform 10 and there are two
trains on it (going opposite directions). The board above the trains
doesn't have my train number on it, but some other train number.
Well isn't this a nice little puzzle. Luckily I left myself plenty
of tie to figure it out. I pass by someone who looks like they might
work for the station and they inform me that the train to Jaislamer
is that one <pointing to the train next to me>. I decide a
second opinion is always a good idea, and again the second person
tells me the train is going to Jaislamer...still no change of the
board. I pass by a couple of European girls who are even more
confused than me at this point. I look at their ticket and find that
it is the same number as mine so I relay the “this is the train to
Jaislamer” information. Their ticket doesn't have any seat number
though which is unfortunate. Good luck!
I find my train car and seat, hop on,
and call the puzzle solved. The horn blows a couple times and then
the train lurches forward...off to Jaisalmer I hope. I open the
window to let some nice hot breeze flow into my face and look out to
see some interesting sights. I see kids playing a game of cricket,
families sitting outside their small shantys next to the train
tracks, cows and dogs rummaging for food next to the tracks, a guy
going to the bathroom, a couple of garbage fires burning slowly. The
train then grinds to a halt as more people get in. It moves forward
again, then stops, repeat. After the 5th stop the car is
nearly full (there are 4 people sitting on my 'seat' including my
backppack). I begin to realize that the train is taking people home
from New Delhi at the end of the work day. Hopefully, my sleeper
seat will again become mine as the people get off later. Inside the
train a couple groups of people play cards; some up on the top
berths, some next to me on the bottom. I'm petty much used to people
staring at me at this point in my journey, but there were a lot of
people staring at me on this train! Curiosity, it seems, is a
universal feeling.
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| Slums near train tracks |
After the 9-5ers get off the train at
various stops along the way out of Delhi, the train gets a bit
quieter. A young boy wanders over and sits next to me looking out
the window. I greet him with a “Namaste” (Hello in Hindi) and he
looks up and says hello. I could tell he wanted to talk but wasn't
confident to initiate it. I ask him where he is going and he
replies that he is with his parents and they are going on some
pilgrimage to a Hindi temple. He asks me where I'm from and we end
up talking for about an hour. I show him some pictures in my phone
and he is mesmerized zooming in and out. I tell him about all the
places in the pictures. At some point another older gentleman sits
down on my bench and we talk for awhile. I thought it was the kids
father, but then I realize it isn't when he gets off the train. He
gives me his email address and tells me to email him with any
questions. Nice people.
People constantly hop on and off the
train late into the night: People selling food and drinks do the
same. At some point in the evening I fall asleep or at least 90%
asleep. Luckily Jaisalmer is the last stop so I don't have to look
out for my stop (which would have been crazy because there are no
signs at any of the stops). In the morning I wake myself up and look
out the window. We are now in the desert. I'm covered in a thin
layer of dust from the open window. My hair feels like one giant
dreadlock.
With the train ride behind me, I get
off and look ahead at the mass of rickshaw drivers vying for
everyones attention. The first one who approaches asks for 30 for a
hide to the hotel, another comes up and says 20, then 10, then free
if I go look at his place first. I say what the hell and get on the
back of his motorbike and head off to his guest house. We ride for a
couple minutes and this giant dessert fort rises into view. I'm
staying inside.
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| Desert Fort |
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| Inside fort |
I book a Desert Camel safari because it
sounds far cooler than anything else going on in town. I decide on 3
day and 2 night in the desert. The first two days I'm with a couple
girls from England, the last it's only me and the guide. We take a
jeep out to a remote part of the desert to meet our camels and guide
Rhaman. The driver puts on some local music and we ride for about an
hour; no doors. Upon arrival we are greeted by Rhaman and our new
rides: the camels. We hop one and head off into the desert. Around
midday we find a tree to sit under and Rhaman makes lunch with a
couple pots, a fire, and some vegetables. The Chai tea is nice. We
relax and talk while laying on a couple blankets. After the hot
midday sun has subsided, we get back on the camels and head off to
some big sand dunes where we will sleep. We arrive, release the
camels, and make some dinner; chapatti (flat bread), some kind of
vegetarian curry, rice, and more chai tea. The sunset over the dunes
was incredible, probably the best I've ever seen and I've seen quite
a few. To top it off, a massive flock of some kind of large bird
passes overhead. It was like something out of the Planet Earth
series on the discovery channel. Never seem anything like it. The
birds were big and there were hundreds of them circling our camp and
looking for a nice spot to land creating a cacophony of bird calls.
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| Sunset in the desert |
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| Camels drinking water |
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| Camp at sunset |
While laying down looking up at the
stars, we have some interesting astronomy and meaning of life
conversations, We decide that the sky doesn't even look real. The
stars and moon looked so close to us on the dunes. We slowly fade
into sleep, but before this we decide to wake up early climb to the
top of the dunes and watch the sunrise. In the morning, the first
thing everyone says is “did you wake up in the middle of the night
and see the stars!!!” The sky is crystal clear the middle of the
night and you could see everything; every single star visible in the
night sky...a rare experience these days. The sunrise is delightful
from our vantage point at the top of the dunes.
The next day the jeep picks up the
girls and me an Rhaman continue on for another day and night. He
asks me if I want to camp on a dune or in his small village. I think
the village is the right choice, so he agrees to take me to his
village and stay the night. We ride for hours in the desert heat. I
wish I had a turban like Rhaman to block some of the sun.
We arrive at the village to a bunch of
curious children. We are going to stay in the schoolyard under the
stars. Rhaman asks if I want to try some 'desert whiskey'. I start
to think about it but “absolutely I do” is the only thing that
comes out of my mouth. He tells me the villagers make it by mixing
sugarcane, spices, and water. They bury it under the sand and wait
for it to ferment, then filter it. When in Rome.
I meet a bunch of guys in the town who have just returned from a wedding so everyone's in a festive mood. I joke around with some guys in the town. We understand probably 65% of what each other is saying, but laughing is a universal language so everyone seems to be having fun. One of the guys starts THE conversation which I don't really want to have:
What do you think of Bush? I don't agree with everything Bush did.
What do you think of Obama? I think Obama is doing a pretty good job. He could do better.
What do you think of Saddam Hussein? I don't know, I've never met him. What do you think? I like him.
I try to end it quickly because I know where it's going. It's one of those lose-lose conversations. If I tell him what I really think, the conversation goes to a bad place. If I just lie and tell him what he wants to hear, well, whats the point. We move onto joking about donkeys instead and drink some Chai tea that a nice woman brings over to us. It starts to get late so we retire back to the school yard. Again, the stars are incredible, and at some point I wake up in the night and see the nearly full moon setting over the horizon. Nice.
In the morning we hang out in the village and take the camels out to another sand dune about an hour away. We pass by these trees with red flowers which look cool.. The camels seem to like eating them. I pull out my camera and realize that the battery is dead; The kids in the village thoroughly enjoyed playing with it. In the late afternoon the jeep comes to pick us up and take us back to Jaisalmer. Driving back in the jeep, I begin thinking that is one of the highlights of my trip so far. I also begin thinking that a shower is going to be amazing. It is.
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| Girl wearing my glasses |
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| Kid wearing my headlamp |
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| More village kids |
Venice Of India, Udaipur April 4,5,6, 2012
I arrive by bus to Udaipur; the Venice of India. It's a nice city by a big lake surrounded by small mountains. While walking around one night I hear some music by the lake and decide to investigate. Upon arrival I find some sort of Hindi festival and procession going on. There's a couple guys banging on drums, a guy playing a trumpet-looking instrument, and another guy playing some sort of tamberine. Women in colorful garb are in some kind of congregation and younger girls are dancing around. This is all happening at something called a ghat; a stone-paved area on the water complete with steps down into the lake for swimming, washing clothes, whatever. The combination of mesmerizing music, colorful clothing, and the orange glow of the sun setting over the lake and mountains made it a nice little discovery. It is one of those hidden gems that are abundant in India as long as you get out into the city to find them. I stay for an hour or so to watch. Eventually the procession heads out into the street and away from the water. I don't follow. It's dinner time and movie night.
Many of the restaurants in the city offer dinner and a movie screening of James Bond: Octopussy. This movie was filmed in the city so it happens to be quite popular here. The rooftop restaurant has great views over the lake and city. I order something called a Thali. It's the basic India meal found all over India. It usually consists of chapati, dal, a couple different vegetable curries, and curds. Curd is one of my new favorites in India. It's like a semisweet jello-yogurty milk and it is a perfect contrast to the spicy curries. It all costs about 2 dollars. A couple people gather around and watch the old James Bond movie after dinner. It's not very good simply because it's dated, but it's cool to see the sights in the movie.
The next day I decide to walk over to the big palace in town and also to a Hindi Temple. There are hundreds of palaces and temples in India, and most of them don't disappoint. These don't either.
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| Local bus at the station |
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| Sunset over Udaipur |
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| Hanging out on the Ghat by the lake |
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| Colorfully-dressed women at festival |
A Small Town, Bundi April 7,8, 2012
I go to a small town on my way to Agra (Taj Mahal) called Bundi. It's more of a town and less of a city which is a nice change of pace. The train to Bundi is the shortest one yet at a whopping 5.5 hours and it arrives at 10:30pm at night.
- I meet the usual curious passengers on the train. I talk to a guy for a couple hours, and he gives me his business card. I meet another family who offer me some ice cream. I refuse a couple times and finally give in and learn that you should never refuse anything when someone offers in India. Later, as I'm talking to some other guy another train going to opposite direction blasts it's horn and blows by at 100mph. It scares the living crap out of me. I thought I was a goner! The other guy laughs and we continue the conversation.
- Bundi is the smallest town I have been to so far (other than the villages near Jaisalmer). There are not touts and store owners trying to sell you things.
- There are pigs in the city; not the farm animal type but the wild boar type. This is a new addition to the street animals in India.
- I do some laundry in my room and find out how dirty my clothes really are. Awesome.
- I meet some Germans and explore the town with them.
- I hike up to an old fort to discover a town on monkeys. I explore the old fort until the sun goes down.
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| A market |
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| The road to the Bundi fort |
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| Monkey village at the Bundi Fort |
You are getting very good at this, Andrew. Terrific report and pictures. Stay safe!
ReplyDeleteUncle Fred