One thing that has been sad to see in India is the beggars. Some are adorable children, others old women, and most of the rest are maimed. We're advised to simply ignore them but this is difficult. From what we've read, the children are run in gangs by adults who take any money the children are given. The children stand at intersections and pound on the doors of cars containing foreigners. If you're on foot and give money, you'll be surrounded by a mob of beggars who are said to distract you while picking your pocket once they see where your money is kept. The old ladies chase people! India produces superb female sprinters. We've ignored the beggars as advised but it seems cruel.
Something more on the irritating side is the con men. We were at a park yesterday and one targeted us like a heat-seeking missile. Before we could get away, he pinned an extremely cheap "flag of India" pin on Pati's shirt leaving two pin holes and a dark smudge with it while saying "Welcome to India!" He then asked us to sign his book giving our names and where we are from. The book was a handwritten page from a notebook with names, home countries, and donation amounts of as much as 5000 rupees ($125). When Pati declined the opportunity to donate and gave the pin back, he told us we must donate "for the poor" and he was "just doing his job."
About a minute later, a nearly toothless man "gave" us a one minute tour of a tomb we were passing through to get away from the con man. We didn't want the tour but I gave him 10 rupees anyway. He looked at it and said "Only 10, give me a dollar!" Even by US standards, the tour was barely worth the rupees we gave him. Pati and Beebee ignored his indignation and ran. We can sprint too!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Our drivers
Indian tourism could not succeed without the Indian driver. We would not have gotten beyond the Arrivals Hall of Indira Gandhi International Airport without the Indian driver and we would never have seen all the wonders that we did see without the Indian driver. This essay is a testimonial to drivers Prem, Yogi, Thapa, Shiva, and Kumar (or, to be precise, we think Kumar is his name: all we really know is that he said he is the father of Naresh, who was supposed to be our driver but came down with a fever the night before we were to leave for Agra).
We first met Prem in the Arrivals Hall of Indira Gandhi International Airport on Wednesday, November 10. Our flight was scheduled to arrive at 2:40 am, but actually arrived at about 3:30 am. After a horrendously drawn out process of passport control and waiting at baggage claim until almost the last piece of luggage came off the plane, we trudged out into a small crowd waiting patiently behind a metal barrier. The time then was about 5 am. Prem was at the very end of the line of waiters, waving a sign with our name on it. No doubt he had been waiting there since well before 2:40 am. We were so pleased to see his welcoming smile and knew that everything would be all right. He took control of our luggage cart and got it onto an elevator to the car park. Leaving it with us only until he could retrieve his car, he then loaded it into the back of the car and proceeded to drive us to our Guest House through the unexpectedly heavy fog and traffic of the Delhi morning. Arriving there at about 6 am, he and another Guest House driver carried everything to our room, and then left us to try to salvage something of the night.
We first met Kumar (the father of Naresh) on the morning of Thursday, November 11. He was our driver for the Golden Triangle Tour and drove hundreds of long highway miles as well as many bumper-to-bumper fender-to-fender (any-car-body-part to any-other-car-body-part) miles inside cities and small towns over four days on the Delhi-Agra-Jaipur-Delhi loop. Riding with Kumar gave us a real appreciation of the skills of the typical Indian trying to get safely from one place to another when the roads are woefully inadequate for all the demands placed on them. As we learned on our last day with him, Kumar "owns" (that is, the bank owns) three cars that he uses in his driving business with his son. This business supports him, his wife, his parents, his son, his son's wife, and his son's children, all of whom live together, as a typical Indian extended family. When we arrived safely back at the Guest House, we each ( Pati and Beebee) had our picture taken with Kumar. Kumar said it was an experience he would always remember, and I know that we will, too.
Thapa is another driver associated with the Guest House. Thapa has taken us on trips around the city for sightseeing and shopping, to the ATM machine, etc.. Earlier in our stay, Thapa was assigned to us more, but Yogi seems to have become "our" driver now.
There are more Guest House drivers (perhaps four in all), but we haven't met them yet. Update: Shiva drove for us on Monday (November 22) since it was Yogi's day off.
Because of the distance involved whenever we leave the Guest House (really, it is distance measured in the time you are stuck in traffic jams and the gasoline expended trying to get anywhere), the driver makes only one trip out and back: he does not drive you somewhere, leave you there while he returns home, and then drive back to get you to take you back home. No, he drives you somewhere, parks near where you will be, waits patiently until you are ready to leave, and miraculously appears the second you appear to want him. And is cheerful about it. Yogi spent 7 hours with us on Friday while we visited a temple, ate lunch at a restaurant, and shopped in a small square. We don't know when or how (or whether!) he eats and drinks, but we hope he does. For this service, we pay the Guest House a reasonable half-day or full-day fee and give the driver a small tip, say 200 rupees (around $5 US) for a full day.
And yes, Yogi is "smarter than the average bear."
We first met Prem in the Arrivals Hall of Indira Gandhi International Airport on Wednesday, November 10. Our flight was scheduled to arrive at 2:40 am, but actually arrived at about 3:30 am. After a horrendously drawn out process of passport control and waiting at baggage claim until almost the last piece of luggage came off the plane, we trudged out into a small crowd waiting patiently behind a metal barrier. The time then was about 5 am. Prem was at the very end of the line of waiters, waving a sign with our name on it. No doubt he had been waiting there since well before 2:40 am. We were so pleased to see his welcoming smile and knew that everything would be all right. He took control of our luggage cart and got it onto an elevator to the car park. Leaving it with us only until he could retrieve his car, he then loaded it into the back of the car and proceeded to drive us to our Guest House through the unexpectedly heavy fog and traffic of the Delhi morning. Arriving there at about 6 am, he and another Guest House driver carried everything to our room, and then left us to try to salvage something of the night.
We first met Kumar (the father of Naresh) on the morning of Thursday, November 11. He was our driver for the Golden Triangle Tour and drove hundreds of long highway miles as well as many bumper-to-bumper fender-to-fender (any-car-body-part to any-other-car-body-part) miles inside cities and small towns over four days on the Delhi-Agra-Jaipur-Delhi loop. Riding with Kumar gave us a real appreciation of the skills of the typical Indian trying to get safely from one place to another when the roads are woefully inadequate for all the demands placed on them. As we learned on our last day with him, Kumar "owns" (that is, the bank owns) three cars that he uses in his driving business with his son. This business supports him, his wife, his parents, his son, his son's wife, and his son's children, all of whom live together, as a typical Indian extended family. When we arrived safely back at the Guest House, we each ( Pati and Beebee) had our picture taken with Kumar. Kumar said it was an experience he would always remember, and I know that we will, too.
Thapa is another driver associated with the Guest House. Thapa has taken us on trips around the city for sightseeing and shopping, to the ATM machine, etc.. Earlier in our stay, Thapa was assigned to us more, but Yogi seems to have become "our" driver now.
There are more Guest House drivers (perhaps four in all), but we haven't met them yet. Update: Shiva drove for us on Monday (November 22) since it was Yogi's day off.
Because of the distance involved whenever we leave the Guest House (really, it is distance measured in the time you are stuck in traffic jams and the gasoline expended trying to get anywhere), the driver makes only one trip out and back: he does not drive you somewhere, leave you there while he returns home, and then drive back to get you to take you back home. No, he drives you somewhere, parks near where you will be, waits patiently until you are ready to leave, and miraculously appears the second you appear to want him. And is cheerful about it. Yogi spent 7 hours with us on Friday while we visited a temple, ate lunch at a restaurant, and shopped in a small square. We don't know when or how (or whether!) he eats and drinks, but we hope he does. For this service, we pay the Guest House a reasonable half-day or full-day fee and give the driver a small tip, say 200 rupees (around $5 US) for a full day.
And yes, Yogi is "smarter than the average bear."
Why can't Pati get clean?
During most of our stay we have been in a comfortable guest house with a modern bath. However, for two days, we stayed in a room where the bathroom consisted of a modern shower head, an equally modern bucket, no soap, and no towels. Pati saw a mall down the road and went on a quest to find soap and a wash cloth. When he got there he found an Indian massage salon with a sign that said free shower and steam with oil-based massage. Pati went in and was given a menu that he couldn't understand so he pointed to an entry about half way down the page and said "Is this oil based?" The receptionist said yes and Pati said he'd take it.
Pati was lead to a wood paneled room and given a pair of paper undershorts to wear. Since he saw the sought-after shower in the corner, he put them on. He immediately noted that most of the salon's customers must be fairly slim. The image that came to Pati's mind when he finally got them on was Baby Huey.
Having read about Hindu modesty, Patty expected a male masseuse. He was quite surprised when a female Korean masseuse entered. As Pati was pummeled by hands of steel, he guessed she must be North Korean with some kind of military background. Finally, the massage ended and - aside from some swelling in one arm - it wasn't too bad.
The masseuse left and it was just Pati, some soap, a towel, and the much sought after steam shower. The shower was high tech with a control panel. The instructions Pati had been given on its use were "Do steam, then shower, then steam." Pati found a button that had a steam icon and pressed it. He soon noticed that, because of the steam, he could no longer see the control panel. Since it was getting really hot, Pati jabbed the control panel where he roughly remembered the shower button to be. Through the fog, he saw the word "ALARM" flashing. Obviously, the wrong button.
Pati started pushing buttons randomly hoping to turn the alarm off before he was dragged naked to safety without his shower. Finally the alarm stopped and finally the shower started. A shower, soap, a wash cloth, bliss. After showering, Pati pressed the steam button again. He really didn't like the steam but he was going to use it since he had paid for it! After a couple of minutes, the shower suddenly stopped and the lights went out. Using a carwash model of what was happening, Pati assumed his bath was over. He dressed and went to the receptionist to pay with a charge card. She said "No can use charge card. Power went out." Oh, well. Pati finally felt clean.
Pati was lead to a wood paneled room and given a pair of paper undershorts to wear. Since he saw the sought-after shower in the corner, he put them on. He immediately noted that most of the salon's customers must be fairly slim. The image that came to Pati's mind when he finally got them on was Baby Huey.
Having read about Hindu modesty, Patty expected a male masseuse. He was quite surprised when a female Korean masseuse entered. As Pati was pummeled by hands of steel, he guessed she must be North Korean with some kind of military background. Finally, the massage ended and - aside from some swelling in one arm - it wasn't too bad.
The masseuse left and it was just Pati, some soap, a towel, and the much sought after steam shower. The shower was high tech with a control panel. The instructions Pati had been given on its use were "Do steam, then shower, then steam." Pati found a button that had a steam icon and pressed it. He soon noticed that, because of the steam, he could no longer see the control panel. Since it was getting really hot, Pati jabbed the control panel where he roughly remembered the shower button to be. Through the fog, he saw the word "ALARM" flashing. Obviously, the wrong button.
Pati started pushing buttons randomly hoping to turn the alarm off before he was dragged naked to safety without his shower. Finally the alarm stopped and finally the shower started. A shower, soap, a wash cloth, bliss. After showering, Pati pressed the steam button again. He really didn't like the steam but he was going to use it since he had paid for it! After a couple of minutes, the shower suddenly stopped and the lights went out. Using a carwash model of what was happening, Pati assumed his bath was over. He dressed and went to the receptionist to pay with a charge card. She said "No can use charge card. Power went out." Oh, well. Pati finally felt clean.
Location:Delhi,India
Practical Philosophy
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| Meditation in the City |
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| Meditation Along the Highway |
Location:Delhi, India
Friday, November 19, 2010
Pictures across time
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| Making Biofuel/Recycling |
Reverse culture shock
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| Ronald in India |
A few days later in a shopping area, we came across a Subway shop with another interesting menu. According to Subway's website, there are 185 Subway shops in India. At 75 Rupees for a 6-inch sub (between US$1.50 and $2.00), this is a bargain compared with home prices, yet quite expensive for many Indians.
India's Subways have many more options for the vegetarian than we see at home. A Veg. Shammi is a "kebab specialty authentically made from lentils, enriched with the distinctive flavours of garlic and onion. " A Paneer Tikka is "cottage cheese slices marinated with barbeque seasoning and roasted to a light crispness." The Aloo Patty is a "100% potato patty seasoned with special herbs and spices." The website also describes a Corn & Peas Sub (ingredients self-explanatory although incomprehensible to Westerners as a sandwich filling) , not featured at this Subway.
God everywhere
We realized we don't know much about the world's religions but we've observed some things. Every morning we wake up to the sounds of the local mosque issuing the call to prayer to us and all our Hindu neighbors. I assume they think we're hard of hearing because they crank the volume up for us. The call is nice but the tunes aren't catchy. During our breakfast in the guesthouse where we are staying, they continually play the Hare Krishna song. I didn't know any place other than an airport or anyone not in the cast of Hair actually sang that song. At least it's easy to learn the words and a pleasant way to start the day.
We visited two temples this week. The first was the Baha'i Lotus Temple. It's an extremely modern building in the form of a nine-sided marble and glass lotus. The interior is a large hall with no statues or icons. I read the handout describing their beliefs. They seem to accept all major religious beliefs. At home these people would vote a straight Democratic ticket. These people seem to be quintessential Type B personalities.
The second temple we visited was a Hindu temple dedicated to a Swami who lived in the early 1800's. We went there expecting something out of the Jungle Book. What we found was a huge complex covering 100 acres and more security than an airport. They wouldn't allow food, electronics, or about anything else in the temple. Beebee was carrying a guidebook and they made her check it at the door. However, inside there were snack places, a food court, guidebooks, visit photos, etc. for sale. Most of the complex was free but there were three optional halls with a small admission fee (125 rupees - about $3). One was an Imax-type theatre, the second a series of rooms with animatronics explaining the Swami's life, and the third a water ride through the history of India similar to Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean but more educational The Baha'i may be nice people but they need to pick up their game to compete with this!
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| Baha'i Lotus Temple |
The second temple we visited was a Hindu temple dedicated to a Swami who lived in the early 1800's. We went there expecting something out of the Jungle Book. What we found was a huge complex covering 100 acres and more security than an airport. They wouldn't allow food, electronics, or about anything else in the temple. Beebee was carrying a guidebook and they made her check it at the door. However, inside there were snack places, a food court, guidebooks, visit photos, etc. for sale. Most of the complex was free but there were three optional halls with a small admission fee (125 rupees - about $3). One was an Imax-type theatre, the second a series of rooms with animatronics explaining the Swami's life, and the third a water ride through the history of India similar to Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean but more educational The Baha'i may be nice people but they need to pick up their game to compete with this!
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