india journal

Welcome to India

How can i possibly convey the experience of my arrival in India? I still need time to reflect on these things, and will write more about it later. So, here is the unedited version.

By the time I arrived, I had been travelling for close to 24 hours, and was already feeling light headed. I lucked out and found an honest pre-paid taxi service. Coming out of the terminal into the Indian night, the air hit me like a wall. It was hazy from the humidity and pollution, and smelled heavily of sulfer and coal.

Next came my introduction to Indian driving and traffic. At night the roads were full of large, brigthly painted trucks which loomed up out of the mist belching clouds fo smoke. Nobody followed lanes, and swerved and suged around each other like a swarm of bees. The horn, I soon discovered, is used much like a fog horn, to let the other drivers know you are there. More on the traffic later.

Eventually we reached smaller streets, where I could see the prostrate forms of people sleeping next to the road: on the sidewalk, charpoys or on their bicycle carts.

By the time I reached my opulant hotel, I was completely dazed. I reached my room, sat down and said to myself, "what the hell have you gotten yourself into?!?"

On Monday I was saved by Vish's cousin Anu. She picked me up from my hotel and baby sat me for the day. I doubt I would have had the nerve to leave the hotel otherwise.

In the afternoon we went to a poorer section of town where she had to do some work. I waited on the street while she went upstairs. I was constantly surrounded by people trying to sell me things. A small woman with an infant in dirty rags followed me for 10 minutes saying, "manee". I had all my money toghether, and was too freaked out to take it out right there, so I eventually ignored her and kept walking. I am still working out my feelings about all this.

Tonight I am fleeing to the hills (quite literally). I take the night train to Dehradun. By tomorrow night I'll be in Mussoorie.

Escape to the Hills

I have quite literally fled for the hills.

My third day in Delhi, I felt much more capable of dealing with the press of humanity, the noise, and smells that permeate Delhi. Still I was happy to get to my train. Once again I was saved by the advice of my friend Vish, who insisted I get a 2nd Class, AC ticket. The train was comfortable, clean and well maintained. I slept quite well, and woke early, which gave me a chance to watch the countryside as we neared Dehradun.

In Dehradun I caught my first Indian bus up to Mussoorie. Which required climbing a 1 1/2 lane road 6000 feet up the mountain. From the bus, I chose to walk up to the language school. I walked for about 10 minutes up the narrow, store lined Landour Bazaar. From a tailor shop and man called to me, and invited me in to have a seat, which I did happily. Within minutes Chai arrived, and they got extra glasses to share with me. Before I left, I was rested caffeinated, and had an invitation to dinner that evening. Then, to top it off, he gave me a ride up the hill to my hotel -- which turned out to be very far.

More on Landour and Mussoorie soon...

Snapshots

Soon I will try to get some pictures uploaded, but in the meantime I want to give a few quick snapshots of things i have found interesting:

From the Minaar (tower) at the Masjid in Delhi, I noticed the colors of the buildings for the first time. Each was washed with a color: blue, green, yellow. I realized that I was working so hard not to be run over or accosted on the street, that I had not noticed. Also from the tower, watching an 8 year old swinging her little sibling around on a small roof without a wall or railing.

Two army men in camoflage, with machine guns slung over their shoulders, holding hands.

The "Caution Elephants" sign next to the train tracks outside Dehradun.

Swarms of dragonflies in all the parks in Delhi.

Mussoorie

Mussoorie is a Raj-era hill station (where the British and well-to-do vacationed in the hot summers), which sprawls along a ridge in the foothills of the Himalayas. Start at the Mussoorie Bazaar, which is full of craft, clothing and gift shops and restaurants which cater to the honeymooning Indians. The bazaar has almost a carnival atmosphere.

From here you wind your way up through the beautiful but crumbling Victorian architecture of Landour Bazaar. The small shops here are home to, among others, several silver smiths and many tailors. You pass clusters of old men sitting on collapsing porches playing cards. Horns blare as cars, motorcycles, scooters and pedestrians make their way up and down the narrow lane.

From the top of Landour Bazaar it is another ~2km steep climb up to the Landour Language School and my hotel. My hotel, Devdar woods is named after the towering pines (devdars) which cover the mountain. The building itself is a converted house, and has a homey feeling.

The people of Landour and Mussoorie are amazingly friendly and welcoming. As I have said, I think I will float away on a river of chai, as anybody will take any opportunity to invite you to sit and have chai.

The Weather

Please let me vent a bit about the weather. The monsoon is stubbornly holding on -- it came late and fully intends to get its due. Every day there are intermittant showers. I don't mind the rain...it sounds beautiful on the metal roof of the hotel. But the humidity has me at my wit's end. Everything is damp. My books are all swelling, the sheets on my bed are clammy. I did my laundry on Saturday, and on Monday evening it was still wet.

Please, somebody remind me of this when I'm trapped in the dry heat of the south.

Afternoon in Mussoorie

It is 2 in the afternoon and I am sitting at a small cafe cum store in an area called "Char Dukan" (literally "Four Stores"). My hotel is fairly secluded, and this is the closest commercial area on the way down to town.

I am of course drinking chai and watching the activity around me. Two men are reading a Hindi newspaper at the next table. Three women in bright green, pink and purple saris are hauling loads of cement in flat metal bowls on their heads. The loads are heavy enough that they can't hoist them up, but need help. I have noticed a lot of women involved in construction.

An Ambassador (a popular Indian car) taxi squeezes past my roadside table, belching black smoke. There are no sidewalks here, and much less division between space for people and for vehicles.

The weather changed today. It is the first day without rain. The weather here changes by the minute: at the moment it is sunny and hot, in a moment the fog has rolled in and you are cold. In this way it reminds me of Berkeley. Everybody here says that the weather in October will be beautiful, with views of the snow capped Himalayan peaks.

Hotel Devdar Woods

My hotel as I first saw it.

Inam and Islam

My friends Inam (seated) and his younger brother Islam in their tailor shop. From his spot in the window, Inam has a view of everybody coming up the street. There is a constant flow of people stopping to say "hi" and/or coming into his shop. He makes friends with every foreigner who strays into Landour. He has been working as a tailor for 22 years, and I have already had several things sewn by him. My plan for having clothes tailored here worked perfectly.

Mussoorie Sunset

A view of Mussoorie at sunset. I managed to snap this on one of the few days where there was a nice view during the day. Mornings have tended to be the only time when the sun shines.

The Ganges

On Sunday I saw the Ganges river for the first time. Three friends and I took a taxi and spent the day in Rishikesh (where the Beatles went to meet the Maharishi in the 1960s). It is a popular pilgrimage spot for Indians, and a yoga and meditation mecca for westerners. There are several temples and countless ashrams offering all sorts of yoga (as one indian visitor said to us, "they are selling hinduism").

From where the taxi dropped us off, we crossed the river on a bridge, and headed upstream to one of the main temples, the Lakshmi Mandir. We took a dirt path which wound its way through the woods, passing Sadhus (ascetic holy men) at every turn. I visited my first Hindu temple here, and received a blessing. The temple was cool and calm in contrast to the heat and bustle outside.

The real turning point of the day came when we made our way to the bank of the Ganges to bathe our feet. The river has an amazingly powerful presence. Sitting with my feet in the stron current, watching the water rush past me, I could understand how people worship it as a god. As a friend said, "The Ganges has all that weight of human history."

I would like to relate a small incident which occured on our way back to the taxi. We stopped on the path to have a chai at a small cart. There were several sadhus there, one of whom appeared very stern and quiet. He watched us intently, and barely responded when spoken to (in Hindi). When the chaiwala handed my friend Antoine his chai, Antoine yelped, "hot" and passed the glass back and forth in his hands before giving it back to the chaiwala. Everybody broke out laughing, including the serious sadhu. It was a very human moment.

Seewa Aur Bangra

I am exhausted! This weekend was the anniversary celebration for the local Gurudwara (Sikh temple). I went Friday night and did Seewa (selfless service). I helped to prepare and serv dinner, which is offered to all who show up. For meals in the Gurudwara, people of all social ranks (and formerly castes) sit together on the floor to eat.

On Saturday morning I got up early so I could make the 30 min. trek to the Gurudwara by 8. I spent the morning helping in the kitchen (peeling carrots, radishes and potatoes), and then serving lunch. At the end of lunch I was recruited to be the photographer for a group of bangra (Punjabi dance) dancers who had come all the way from the Punjab. They were lots of fun, and I got to watch them getting their costumes on.

Next came a parade through town to take the Guru Granth Sahib (Sikh holy book) through town to the other Gurudwara. The procession consisted of a very loud band (in which brass instruments and drums seemed to compete with their own sound system), the bangra group (who were amazing!), a group which danced and fought with weapons, mounted flag bearers...

At every turn thre were people giving away chai and prasad (food offerings). It was certainly the slowest parade I ever saw. Every 100 ft or so, groups would stop to perform, give Prasad, etc. It took three hours to get to the end of Landour (about 1.5 km). By then it was 6 PM and they had 3 km to go. I decided to bid my friends farewell, and head up to my hotel.

Sunday I again made the early trek down to work. This time I only worked for a couple of hours, and then dragged myself home. As I told a friend here, it is work that is good for the soul, but hard on the body. So, I'm happy but tired!