The World in 100 Words or Less

A fellow traveller said to me, “Whether you hate India or love it, it’ll surprise you.”  Nothing could have been more accurate.

 

After 20 minutes spent with India’s most obnoxious and inept Customs agent, Talik _____, after drawing a map of my travels in Thailand, proving I had recieved the appropriate immunizations, offering to drop my trousers to prove I had no STDs (atleast visible ones, haha), and giving my entire family lineage (after my bathroom break), I finally was let into Delhi, India’s largest city.

 

Delhi Intl. Airport  is atually about 20 km outside of the town, so after haggling for 20m minutes with a cabbie, i finally agreed on a price that I couldhave recieved hassle-free from the pre-paid taxi service within the terminal. It was 5:40 am and I was tired.  I hadn’t slept or eaten in hours, almost 25, and I was truly ready to put my head down for the day.  I had already decided to stay in the Paharganj (known as the seediest of Delhi’s tourist areas) that day.  As we approached the city, the sun began to rise and unveil the sleeping giant.  More and more cars came onto the streets and I realized just how calm Thailand’s traffic was in comparison.  This country is F*cking nuts.  Traffic isn’t a nuisance, it’s a institution here.  As the cabbie negotiated carts, sleeping cows, cars, rickshaws, bicycles, pedestrians, sidewalks, medians, and my sanity, we arrived at Paharganj. Dirty. the first word that popped into my head.  Though it was relatively quiet at 6 am (an amazing feat considering the huge railway station is across the street), I was nonetheless overwhelmed. I had officially left the relative comfort of Thailand.  Having lost my shoes in Chang Mai, Thailand, I hopped, skipped and jump over puddles of feces, cow pies, sleeping animals and people, dodged motorcycles and push bike rickhaws, all with one hand behind my back.  After checking out various shithouses, i mean guesthouses, I settled on Hotel Navrang, a decrepit, but charming establishment 20 metres off the Main Bazaar.  The place is run by “Boss”, a 65 year-old indian gentlemen, so called because, well, that’s what he calls everyone else.  The minute i was done with checking in, I ran upstairs and preceded to pass out for 6 hours.

 

I woke up to find Paharganj was in full swing.  Traffic had reached new levels of meaning in my mind. Sleepily, I attempted to open my eyelids, as little a possible because of the tense midday son.  I did notice that it was a hell of alot less hot than Thailand, though.  It was definitely more fragrant.  The smell of Indian spices mixed with cow shit and body odor was an interesting experience for the good ol’ olfactory center.  The streets are so alive with selling, scheming and buying that it really takes you a couple of days to adjust.  After 5 or so hours out, having seen the Connaught Place, famous for shopping and finance, and wandering around Pahar Ganj, I called it a day.

 

The next day I spent my time checking out some of Delhi’s historical sites: Red Fort (including Lahore Gate used to announce independence), the Ashok Pillar and general happenings of Old Delhi.  Brilliant, everything very interesting and entirely too much to explain.  Red Fort is massive, a symbol of India’s ever changing image. The Ashok Pillar, a steel sculpture that hasn’t rusted in 2,000 years, a symbol of India’s ever-lasting identity.  The markets, a melting pot of Indians, and home to half the world’s population of flies and mice.

 

Day 3, I must admit, I did essentially nothing.  I decided to take a break to acclimatize to my new surroundings and just talk with the guys that ran the guesthouse. 20 cups of chai and 10 chess games later, it was becoming dark outside.  The guys pulled out a couple of illegally aquired bottles of rum and explained to me, with the help of an Englishmen, what the hell was happening in the Cricket game on the “Telly”. England surprisingly was leading India for the first time in awhile in the “Test” (Match). At 6 am the next day, slightly hungover and confused, I boarded my first Indian train on its way to the Taj Mahal, a sight I only wanted to see so all of you wouldn’t ask me “how the hell did you skip that?”  You would have been right to ask.

Tags: India

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