On the Loose in India

In this hyper-extended post I hope to give some sort of recap of my little holiday to India to visit some friends of mine from my company's Delhi office. I will say first of all that it was an incredible trip, disturbing, eye-opening, refreshing, and all-in-all an excellent investment of my free time and money. Whenever you leave your little bubble of safety there is bound to be danger lurking about whether you are in Detroit or Delhi. Not exclusively physical danger, but also mental. Despite Disney's attempts this world is still very very large, the internet, hypersonic passenger jets, and foreign films will never be able to fully encompass planet Earth.

India was a sleepless adventure, why should getting there or back be any different. Due to "air traffic control" delays, my flight from DC to Yew York (JFK) got delayed and by the time I made it there and rushed off the plane to the international terminal it was too late. The strait-shootin' staff JFK's Air India help desk suggested I get on the flight to Mumbai later that night, and BUY another flight from Mumbai to Delhi. I guess when a bad solution is your only solution you just deal with it, some through counseling, some through psychedelic drugs and others with some form of binging. This, this is how I ended up lying on the concrete floor of the Mumbai airport at 2:00 AM local time with construction crews patching up the terminal around me. At the end of my first day in India I had been awake for roughly 48 hours before I was able to fall fast asleep on the guest bed of a friend of a friend somewhere in the city of Jaipur.

Sunday September 28th, 2008
During my first day in India I spent the morning recovering, eating a breakfast of tasty seasoned rice and taking a shower. By 11 am though Pramod and I were in a hired taxi speeding through southern Noida to make it out of the Delhi metropolitan area. They will be hosting the commonwealth games in 2010 so the major highways between the airport and where the games will be held (near Pramod's house in Noida incidentally) were very new and had many lanes. The main highway going south from Delhi to the city of Agra went from from 4 lanes to just two, but in general was quite well paved and we moved at high speeds. It is a very good thing I did not try to drive in India, the intense concentration required to both arrive safely and in a decent amount of time is phenomenal. It is my belief that our driver went above and beyond the typical level, giving him driving abilities somewhere between Dale Ernhart and James Bond. It wasn't just that he was driving faster than everyone else on the road, or that he would slip between two huge cargo trucks with only inches to spare between them, the most amazing part was that he would do this for hours on end without stopping. While I was slipping in and out of consciousness in the back seat we traveled over 500 miles in about 36 hours stopping to sleep only briefly and spending all other daylight hours sightseeing. At first I felt more secure in our little Tata Indica when I saw entire families with small children using a motorcycle as the family car (see picture above). When we happened on a car of the exact make and model as our own crushed like an insect between two cargo trucks I was less sure.

About 5 pm we finally arrived in Agra and went straight to the Agra fort to roam around the monkey infested grounds Shah Jahans immense red colored palace. Shah Jahan is the famous ruler who built the Taj Mahal as a massive mausoleum for his wife within view of the palace. Although the Agra Fort is amazing in its scale and intricacy it pales in comparison to real gem of Agra, which is of course the Taj Mahal. After the long day we were only able to slip in a little while before they closed the doors as the sun was setting. I can say in all honesty that I can fully certify the decision to classify the Taj as one of the great wonders of the world. It has the duality of being both incredibly large and incredibly intricate, the marble surfaces that are not polished to shine are covered in intricate carvings or inlaid designs. There is also the reminder that this was not a military fort, a national monument or a gaudy palace, but one incredible gesture, I believe this makes it potentially matched only by some of the great religious relics and temples of the world.
After being unceremoniously shoved out of the Taj grounds we boarded a bicycle rickshaw and set off to return to our motor carriage waiting in the parking lot. I know I lacked sleep and clarity of mind, but even I could tell that the rickshaw driver was going the wrong way. Instead of the direct route we took the scenic route through a parade full of religious floats and between two lines of marching bands seemingly battling each other for audible domination.
After having to help the driver physically lift the rickshaw up some steps we finally got back to the taxi, needless to say the rickshaw driver was none too happy about getting stiffed. The rest of the night went by in the same blur that had gotten us to Agra, I would fall asleep and drool some more onto the idle seatbelt next to me for a half hour before waking up again to stare straight ahead into the black road ahead in amazement as our driver careened around constructions sites in the middle of the road without warning. We arrived in Jaipur at about 1:30 AM to stay with a friend of Pramod's who prepared a late dinner of chapatti's and various pickles seeing as we had hit the open road without dinner. Finally, at 2:00 AM I collapsed onto a bed that after being awake (or some form of semi-sleep) for 48 hours seemed almost as magnificent as teh Taj Mahal.

I only slept for about 7 hours, but I slept like a rock....no...like a mountain. I walked out onto the balcony and just sat there staring out at the city before me that had been shrouded in darkness and the yellow glow of occasional street lamps.

The pink city is just that, every building in the entire city seems to be somewhere between rose and cream. Jaipur is famous for its many forts and palaces built by the Mughal Emperors, it is also India's first planned city, but it wouldn't seem that way by the number of times we had to stop and ask for directions. After a gut-busting delicious breakfast of chapatti's, spicy pickled mango and tea we went out to see a couple of building sites where Pramod's old friend Anish was slowly inching his way into the local construction industry with small multi-home condominiums. A true businessman and a gentleman. Afterwards Pramod and I took to the hills to see the Amber fort. On the way he pointed out another beautifully crafted structure in the middle of a man-made lake, another palace, this one however had seven stories below water, never meant to be inhabited by anyone beside the denizens of the deep, opulence.

The center of the city has many fascinating structures surrounding the Jaipur City Palace such as the Hawa Mahal. Most of the major structures in India have incredible amounts of open air windows that allow the wind to blow through and cool the buildings while allowing light directly into dark corners, much like screens today, but carved in intricate patterns from stone or wood. Even more interesting me was the Jantar Mantar observatory. Astronomers (in this case the Mughal King himself) posited that they could make much more precise observations if they used larger equipment. This gave rise to an entire courtyard full of huge devices built to take various measurements of the sun, moon and stars. The sundial below is roughly five stories high, three above ground and two more built down into the earth.

In order to get into the Jantar Mantar we (meaning Pramod) had to engage in a long conversation with a local police officer. Afterwards Pramod explained (with visible frustration) that the local authorities collected a tax from all the local guides and in return kept guides who do not pay the tax from infringing on the local tourist economy. It took a good bit of cajoling to convince the officer that we were actually co-workers and friends. Despite my good nights rest I was still in a decided deficit of shuteye and I could feel it as I danced between cowpies and dog doody on the sidewalk while I ate spicy corn chips and drank a fanta on our way back to the taxi. As the sun began to slink low into the horizon we set out again on another five hour blitz back to Delhi stopping only briefly to get the south-asian equivalent of road-side fast food at a truck stop.

Another late night to bed and another early morning wake up to make the 6:15 train north on the Himalayan Queen. Air conditioned, comfortable cushioned seats, regular serving of vegetable cutlets with ketchup and hot chai tea from huge stainless steel jugs, yum.
Around noon we transferred from the comfort of the Himalayan Queen to a small gauge train only about 3/4 as wide with no AC and sub-par seating, the view from the open windows more than made up for the discomfort. The train climbs back and forth and around the mountainsides towards Shimla, the capital city of Himachal Pradesh at the top of the Himalayan foothills (around 6800 feet of elevation). You are constantly looking over the side of a precipice at terraced orchards and long deep valley's, all while slipping through roughly 100 tunnels and across nearly 1,000 bridges built like roman aqueducts. It is a long trip on what is called a "Toy" train.

At the top of the mountain the temperature is brisk but comfortable, especially when compared with the overwhelming heat and humidity present everywhere else. We wander out into the evening to the pedestrian mall where despite the chatter of young couples on honeymoon and other vacationers it is quiet, very quiet. It seems to be one of only a few places that does not allow any car traffic through. All we can see in the dark are the lights covering the steep mountains on either side of the ridge. For dinner I have what is probably the best Dum Aloo (potatoes in creamy tomato sauce) that has ever touched my lips, the potatoes are so soft they melt in my mouth like butter, the sauce is only mildly spiced (unlike my breakfast the next morning which will make me sweat and cause my stomach to protest for the rest of the day). However, I am tired, and nearly dip my face directly into the creamy tomato sauce.

We have arranged for a tour the next day, the driver takes us further up the mountain to around 8,000 feet where we drink fresh lassi's and peer into the distance at the snow-covered Himalayas. We also hire horses to take us up a trail to a famous bollywood site where many actors have played out numerous song and dance numbers at the top of a mountain in a flower garden. There is also a small Hindu temple perched at the highest point which we make a brief sober visit to.

I spend the evening wandering around the mall picking up a few useful items to bring back, Pramod and one of his many room mates admire cute girls walking up and down the mall to keep from getting bored while I attempt to make up my mind to get the one with a pattern or the one without, in the end I realize I am wasting my time and just buy both.

Our bus back to Delhi leaves at 10 pm and will arrive as the sun is rising the next day. As I suspected and feared the bus ride down the mountain will wind back and forth for many hours before reaching open road. We are assigned seats in the back of the bus (with no bathroom) to boot. Luckily I am able to lull myself into some light form of sleep, which keeps the motion sickness at bay. I am not among the chorus of upchucking.

Most of the next day is unfortunately spent sleeping, but I will need my energy to survive that nights marathon wedding. A short while before we leave Pramod helps me pick out a fancy bright orange Kurta (long shirt) and a decorative stole (long scarf), which he informs me is their equivalent of a tuxedo. I am however disappointed he and all of the other dudes from the ICF office will be wearing a button up shirt and slacks.

The wedding is extravagant to say the least, bright red and orange decorations have been draped on the buildings and walls surrounding the courtyard where the ceremony will occur. When I finally see Komal I can barely recognize her, traditional Indian wedding garb especially for the women is indescribable. After seeing Komal's elaborate outfit my jaw literally dropped open when she introduced me to her sister Kalpana (the bride). Kalpana is sitting in a waiting room watching tv and letting their various aunts and family friends fuss over her "gown." She does not get up to greet me because it is so heavy, not to mention the roughly 20 pounds of gold jewelry hanging from her hands and head.
The entire wedding has a an entirely unfamiliar duality to it, a tradition of competition and jabs between the two families is incredibly entertaining to everyone involved. The groom arrives on a white horse surrounded by family and friends who frequently stop to simply dance around and try to take as long as possible to actually arrive at the wedding in order to test the patience of the brides family. Later in the night before the bride and groom are about to leave Komal reveals that her and her sisters, cousins and friends have stolen the grooms shoes and he must negotiate a price in order to get them back, in the end the thieves make of with close to $300! Which he must borrow from his family and friends.

After the main ceremony from around 9 to 11 pm many people slowly wander away and head home after eating from the huge buffet. Only about 40 people remain from the original 200, mostly family and close friends who gather around a tent over a fire in another part of the courtyard around 1AM. This will be the more serious religious ceremony where a Hindu priest will preside over the bride and groom's seven laps around the fire, one for each of the seven promises they must make to the Hindu god of fire. Despite this everyone speaks and laugs amongst each other while downing cup after cup of delicious caffeinated coffee, I believe I drank at least four cups. It is so relaxed that Komal invites me to come up and sit on the cushions right next to the fire and hang out for part of the ceremony.

Around 4AM the groom steps into his waiting car and the bride embraces her crying family surrounding her, I turn off my camera. It is a dramatic shift from the hilarity of the shoe negotiations that happened only minutes before. And then it is over, I am in a daze, I need to sleep, a family friend offers Vipul and I a place to sleep on her floor, which turns out to be an elegant air-conditioned living room with marble floors. Everyone is too nice, too accommodating, at the end of my trip I feel just a bit guilty, it sets the bar high for me.

The next day I make a brief visit to the India Gate, still in my Kurta and Stole, my face covered in week old scruff I am desperate to shave off. I also stop by our Delhi office to say hello to everyone I speak to frequently by e-mail and telephone. Ankur takes me on a walking tour of Connaught Circle and shows me where he was standing when extremists detonated an explosive earlier in the summer.

And that's it, my last meal on our way to the airport is a delicious mixed vegetable cutlet (burger) on a bun from McDonalds. My entire 14 hour flight back to New York I am wide awake enjoying myself, but also under constant attack from a toddler directly behind me who pummels the back of my seat with his feat for the entire 14 hours, if it wasn't for the fact that I now hate this little ingrate I would compliment him on his incredible stamina.

Vacation is not always meant to be comfortable, relaxing, or restful. Sometimes vacation should beat you into submission and encourage a change in your schedule instead of prolonging the status quo.