India

New Delhi

Sandra and I arrived in India late at night on September 6th, landing at the Indhira Gandhi International Airport in New Delhi. This was yet another episode of historically bad service at Heathrow airport in London, which cost us a half day delay at our arrival point. Unfortunately, we are getting used to these situations. The night was long, as we could not close our eyes waiting for the first sun of the day to kick start our trip. Our hotel, the Smyle Inn, was pre-booked and included the airport pick-up as well as tasty mango juice for breakfast in the morning :-)

We were taking our breakfast early in the morning on the hotel's rooftop and could already feel the day will be as hot as the "Chai" (local spiced tea) I had in my hands. The aura of India had already started unfolding itself to us as we made our first steps into main Bazaar, the popular street on which many backpackers find affordable accommodations in the area of Delhi called Paharganj.

Our short walk to the train station gave us a small taste of the local salesman. Most of them did not even seem to have a fixed sales point. They would follow you and would do anything short of getting us angry by relentlessly bargaining down the price of kitsch articles, that few people would ever consider buying in the first place. This turned out to be a small matter in the long run, as we have had similar experiences in Thailand, Malaysia, China and Indonesia and quickly worked out the reverse psychology and gain peace of mind.

It took no more than a few hours to plan our whole trip that morning. We had already booked a 4 day round trip plane for Bombay (Mumbai from here on). Just before noon, we were already standing in a private tour operator's office, having followed many kind locals who got us there. It is worth mentioning here that in south-east Asia, India being no exception, shop owners have worked out a very smart incentives program. The principle is that every shop has a commission schedule or fixed reward, hence any local who has brought in tourists either gets a percentage of your purchase and/or a fixed monetary reward. Having good knowledge of the system, but still worried that we might have been fished in too easily, we were on our toes on what to expect. The whole tour, which again, included a pick-up from the airport on our way back from Mumbai, would take us around the province of Rajasthan in a matter of a week. The $350 per person tour, included a private driver, seven night worth of hotels and all tolls, leaving us to foot our own bill for food.


Here we were in the middle of Connaught place on day one having planned everything for the 2 weeks ahead of us. All we had left to do was to visit Delhi since this would be the last day, except for the day we leave, when we would be in the capital. The first encounter we had was with a gang of ear pickers. They claimed to clean your ears beyond anything you believed possible. I believed it, seeing that the man did this as a profession, but I simply had no time and was more willing to go rubbernecking somewhere. For those who are interested in the art of ear pickers, check out this accurate video of the experience.

Sandra and I, armed with the precious lonely planet guide to India, started walking to the Jama Masjid. I've always preferred to walk simply because it allows us to see so much more than sites. Allowing yourself to stroll along the scenes of everyday life, seeing the faces of your hosts, smelling the food they eat outside and feeling the sweat in their workplaces is an experience every bit as enriching as the Taj Mahal or any of the impressive Mughal forts.

The Jama Masjid (Jama meaning Mosque), was built by Shah Jahan, the same emperor who commissioned the Taj Mahal in Agra. The Mosque can house up to 25'000 worshippers. In 2006, there were two attacks on this mosque, resulting in 13 injuries but no fatalities.

Close by to the mosque was situated the Red Fort (Lal Qila in Hindi), on the waterfront of the Yamuna river. Being the main fort in the city, and the largest monument in old Delhi, this structure brings a lot of pride to the locals. Whomever has the control over this fort, has historically been the ruler of the city, being Mughals, Sikh's or British. Every year on August 15th, the independence day, the prime minister addresses the nation form the main gate, just like we do from the peace tower on July 1st in Canada.

Walking along the borders of the river, 500 meters south of the great Red Fort, one would find the RajGhat. It is the memorial of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. The monument is as simple as the Mahatma had allowed his life to be. A black marble stone on which he was burned was the only monument that differentiated the RajGhat from any other parc. I had read Gandhi's autobiography, as well as Jawaharlal Nehru's, before getting to India and I have to admit that this was a strong moment from me. Gandhi is a very particular man, and I have found through his writings that he is very difficult to understand for my contemporaries. One thing pervades though. His strong religious beliefs, detrimental dietetic experiments, and rigid principles are simply manifestations of a devoted mind. Gandhi professed truth, non-violence, and selflessness. The strength of his character and impeccable method has led to the birth of the world's largest democracy with no apparent sign of violence or war. Historical examples of this phenomenon are rare. Gandhi has taught us how to not repeat history.

The last great monument we saw was Humanyun's Tomb. This is the last great construction that the Mughals did not build out of white marble, the Taj Mahal would soon be born and would set a precedent in Local architecture. The style is similar to the Taj, except that there are no minarets that are surrounding the monument.

That night, passing around the India gate at night, we reached Connaught place for a good meal. We thought we had the best Indian food of our lives that first night, but that is about what we though every time we had a meal during the trip. Sandra had a chicken meal, where the meat was interestingly breaded in crushed nuts in stead of flour. The effect was delicious. The jet lag would not be felt any further than that first night of sleep in Delhi. The next day would bring us to Mumbai, the most populated city in India. We did not know that our last day would not allow us for more time in the streets of Delhi. One day we would have to come back to see that presidential palaces and especially the Qutb Minar, which is the highest stone and brick minaret in the world with its height of 72.5 meters.

Mumbai

Mumbai (Bombay) is the the most populous city in India, with just a little short of 17 million habitants. The life standard is also, I believe, the highest in the country with a meager 3.25USD/day average salary (thrice the national average). A striking feature of the city is that it is full of british architectural wonders such as the Victoria Terminus (Central Station) below.


Modern buildings are far more present in the northern part of the city. The north contains the headquarters of some of the largest and most diversified conglomertes of this country. The land of the Ambani brothers, Tata Group and ICICI bank is like a forest of glass and steel in the middle of starvation and death (I will touch upon the subject of the surrounding slums later on). Nevertheless, the more touristy south offers many wonders such as the Mumbai Stock Exchange, which, as you probably already suspect, I went to see on day one.

Despite the modern look that I am mentioning, make no mistake in respect to the other elements of urban India. The smell is still around, cows pop out of nowhere, people sleep on the boardwalks (sometimes even on the tiny bit of grass that separates the two ways of the larger roads). All in all, the mix is quite interesting. Women's colorful saris put a pleasant touch to the darkest corners of the city, and the spice mix coming out of all the kitchens make it very enjoyable to walk around town. Haing mentionned a few lines on Indian urbanity, I will take a second to explain what indian cities sound like. Cacophony. The indian streets sound like a pool of distressed cars honking as often as possible as if it was done to win a national noise contest. Indian drivers are used to a peculiar signaling practice. Many of the cars, I have noticed, did not have side view mirrors (especially taxis). One has to honk to signal he is behind another driver and honk again while maneouvring around him so as to tell him to stay on course (or to ask for some more space...). The blind spot is something that is left ... blind, nobody checks it or minds it, to the detriment of many lives. In the course of a little more than two weeks, we have witnessed several buses flipped over on the side of the road, crushed tuk-tuks, a man on a bicycle being run over (he was seriously bleeding but alive), and finally a car related death. Indian roads are notorious for their risks. I would wonder how my grandfather, who once had a radio show called "the road jungle" 30 years ago in Bulgaria, would have named a similar driver education show in India. I was thinking of Hindustan inferno, but there most probably is a reason why I am not a radio show host, he he :-) To quote a very astute observation: Inside every driver in India is a stunt driver waiting to happen. It's enough to make you feel like you're in a Hollywood high speed car chase scene. It's like having twenty near-death experiences in the span of ten minutes.


Lets keep on going. The southernmost point of Mumbai is at the dock where we find the India Gate. The latter has been built in 1911 to welcome King George V and Queen Mary on their historic visit to Inida in 1911. Starting from this quay, we took a two hour ferry that would lead us to the rock cut temples of Elephanta island. The Shiva dedicated temples of the island represent some of the finest temple carving in all of India. The island is originally named Gharapuri (Place of Caves) but was later renamed Elephanta by the Portuguese because of the large basalt elephant at the entrance of the cave (today standing tall in the Victoria Gardens). The main statue of Shiva is very magnificent, presenting the three faced Shiva as the destroyer, creator, and preserver of the universe. His closed eyes are serene and remind you of the sould of India, a few miles away from the bustling financial capital, Mumbai.

I had mentionned earlier of the desperation present in and around the finacial center of Mumbai. Not coincidentally, the poorest of the poor reside in huge "bidonville's" concentrated around train stations. The largest of them all, the Dharavi slums, housing 2.5 million souls in between the four walls of aluminum, carton, social inequity and ... tragic indifference. Do not stop reading about this on this page, as you have to appraise the situation yourself. This is an introvert exercise of human conscience. Close to 60% of Mumbai's population lives in slums on an area of less than 6% of the city's surface. Close to a third of the world's population were born in a slum, and live their short lives without the possibility to get out. The characteristics associated with slums vary from place to place. Slums are usually characterized by urban decay, high rates of poverty, and unemployement. They are commonly seen as "breeding grounds" for social problems such as crime, drug addiction, alcoholism, high rates of mental illness, and suicide. Dharavi is the largest slum in Asia, but is unfortunately far behind its African counterparts on the world list. My call ends here, by asking you to always bear a though for these sons of the earth. Thinking about our lives in this perspective will give, the average westerner, a much needed touch of realism.