OK, I posted the last one as is, just in case we have a power cut and I lose it all. So, make another chai (which incidentally is served very sweet here, and which I'm developing a taste for) and read on.
The next day was Wednesday (I know, this is taking a long time to tell!). We rose for a sightseeing tour at 10. I had a mini-panic as I couldn't find my camera (turns out it was under a book or two). However, I missed out photographing the morning's sites (though others did, so I'll get hold of some photos for you all). We went first to the governmental buildings, including President's House (which is huge, and far nicer than 10 Downing St.), then on to India Gate (a WWII memorial in the style of Thiepval). We also saw our first snake charmer! One of us got ripped off for about Rs150 for a photo of him! They should only get about Rs10-20 for it, but they ask tourists for about Rs300-400, because most don't understand the actually value of money here, instead they think in terms of their own currency.
For lunch I had a cheap masala dosa in a tourist market. Masala dosa is a crepe-like pancake with a spicy potato filling (very nice). We saw some British tourists doing their utmost to give our country a bad name. They were trying to get a packet of crisps but the shoppy didn't understand what they wanted. They were f-ing and blinding at him, and when we tried to help with our newly learnt Hindi, we were spurned with "he should understand what I f-ing want when I f-ing point at it". On the plus side, the shoppie ripped them off for about Rs100 (=1.25 pounds), which we all agreed they deserved, and was a result of their own ignorance and lack of any respect.
Next was a by-invitation trip to the British High Commission (oh yes, we are that important). This set off a spate of Aussie-baiting and mock over-patriotism. I should note that this was the first time I'd seen alcohol in India (they had it at the BHC bar). We got a talk from the commissioner's right-hand lady about their role and our safety, as well as India in general and so on. It was very pleasant. The place is guarded by Nepalese Gurkas who are armed with kukri, partially ceremonial knives which they use for everything from cutting up fruit to throwing at people.
After that we went back to the hostel and finalised our travel details. We then went off to the markets again. It turned out the people I was with didn't know where they were going (I was just tagging along for something to do) so they made the fatal mistake of taking the autorickshaw driver's recommendation. (A quick note on the rickshaws, they aren't the bicycle powered ones we usually think of, they are motorbikes with a covered bit on them that weave in and out of traffic at will). The driver took us off to a crap, overpriced tourist trap market, then when we told them it wasn't what we wanted, took us to Janpath (which was where we wanted to be) and charged us about Rs50 for a journey we could easily walked (had we but known). It was obvious that this guy was on commission from the overpriced emporium to bring tourists there.
We walked around Janpath and I struck unlucky again (bah). Some guys attempted the 'shit on the shoe' scam - which I imagine you can work out what it is. One guy throws shit on your shoe, then his friend (who comes over as a friendly stranger) points it out to you, then mentions that he is - coincidentally enough - a shoe cleaner! The luck of it! He then cleans your shoe and charges a ridiculous price for a half-arsed job. Unluckily for them, I was aware of the scam, so I just scrapped it off on the railings, instead of getting a polish. They aren't, I hear, even real shoe cleaners; the proper ones have a large set up across the pavement and charge only about Rs25 (whereas these guys charge loads and have a portable kit so they can make a run for it). I was some less fortunate tourists already in their clutches.
At dinner (more curry, different again, and still fairly good stuff) I chatted with the Aussies some more; it turns out that some of them have never seen snow before. Which is weird for us, but then they think it's odd that I've never seen a wild snake before, or anything like that. One girl told a story of how there was a snake in the shower with her once, and she accidentally mistook it for the shower head. Nice, it was apparently a close shave to getting beaten that time around. We were back on the balcony that night, chilling out, talking, playing some cheat and shithead, and saying our goodbyes to those leaving early the next day. The Becky and Loz relationship flourished more, but they had to split off to go to their different places. Cute, but sad. (I don't mean to sound sarcastic there, even though I do).
Thursday! (Nearly done, honest!) I had a lie-in (till 9.10), and woke to find John already gone on the train to Kalka (he's in a monastery in Simla). The handful of us left behind did our packing and then went off to Raj Ghat, where Mahatma Gandhi's memorial is (along with those of other important India political figures, such as Indira Gandhi and Rajiv Gandhi). Raj Ghat is a large park area with all these memorials, but very little shade. It was very hot this day, but worth it I reckon. We got a rickshaw ride there (four in a rickshaw, technically illegal, but the Delhi traffic police seem not to care about anything!) in what was a fairly interesting ride. I sat on Loz (who ended up with a dead leg, though my ride was hardly anymore comfortable), and the driver's first route turned out to be closed. So, he turned around and drove back part of the way we'd come. Without changing lanes. Into the oncoming traffic. And we weren't the only ones. But that's Indian roads for you! The ride back was similarly fun. The driver was very inventive in his driving, squeezing into spaces he didn't fit, and cutting up everyone. The traffic police again saw all this (dangerous driving, ignoring the lanes and the correct side of the road, jumping lights, four in the rickshaw, etc., etc.) but decided it was too hot to do anything (or something like that).
At the YMCA we had a lunch of chips and roti (very Indian, I know!) then checked out. Turns out that the checkout time was noon (not 4pm) and the guys at the YMCA wanted an extra Rs800 or so. After a quick phone call to Rekha, she sorted it out and told us that they go through this thing pretty much every year, and not to worry about it. Then it was off to the bus stop and the bus ride to Dharamsala. The station was a little confusing, but it turned out that I guy comes and tells you when the bus arrives and then takes you down to the place it is parked.
I will post again in a little while, but it's lunchtime now, and I want to eat with the monks for the first time, so next post you have the delights of the Delhi->Dharmasala bus ride, McLeod Ganj and the introduction to Tashi Jong to look forward to! Until then, goodbye all, and I hope you are all well!
Friday 31 August 2007
Rickshaws, shit scams and the flight from Delhi
I'm sorry about this, but this will be a long post. You may wish to get a cushion and a cup of chai (tea) first.
To pick up where I left off, that evening (after the fun at the bank), and that post, we went out for an evening gander through Delhi. The evening was quite nice, less hot and humid, so more pleasant in that respect. India is very much alive in the evening, things seem to wake up at about ten in the morning and go on until midnight. We walked up to Connaught Place - the main central grassy area of Delhi - which, in the midnight light, appeared to have far too perfect grass (the morning showed it to be a bit brown and patchy though). We walked through the markets and got hassled fairly relentlessly. One guy tried to sell Loz a map. He started at Rs400, and each time Loz told him he didn't want it (he actually didn't) the guy went down by Rs100. He got below Rs100 by the time he cottoned on to the fact he really didn't want a map. Loz also got himself a cheap watch, complete with painted on chronometers and plastic buttons, for Rs250 (haggled down from Rs400). And that was that for the evening.
The next day (Tuesday), we were up at about 8.30am and I had an unbelievably refreshing shower (though I was dirty and sweaty again within about 5 minutes!). At breakfast we met the rest of the Aussies (we had met Hugh the day before) including Mike, my gap partner for the next few months. We all gelled quickly and are getting along really well. Got my tickets for the 12 hour bus ride from Delhi to Dharamasala, on an apparently A/Ced bus (more later). They were Rs530 (=6/7 quid - again no pound sign on this keyboard, and I can't remember the alt+code). That is pretty cheap, you'll agree, for such a long bus journey.
We then met Rekha, the GAP rep in Delhi. She gave us a general introduction to India, which was interesting. If you wanted to know, the Indian international dialing code is +91. Next an official from the Tibetans-in-exile government came to talk to us about the Tibetans. He was a very cheerful guy, whilst at the same time he seemed a little bit quiet and shy. He was full of glowing praise (most of which I believe is very true) about the Tibetan people. He also advised us not to talk to monks about sex.
For lunch we went out to Nirula's, which is a sort of East meets West McDonald's of India. I got a chicken tikka burger and chips (for example), but you could get meals more Indian and more Western than that. I will put some pictures of that up somewhere sometime. It was far superior to McDonald's in cleanliness, taste, staff, price and pretty much every other respect too. After some more markets and bazaars, we made it back to the YMCA for a short Hindi lesson with Rekha. A quick note about Delhi - it often smells! But you get used to it.
We learnt some useful Hindi: "nhai" is 'no' (extremely useful!), and "nhai chaahiye" is 'no I don't want it'. Those are the best phrases, there is also "namaste" ('hello') and "shukriya" ('thank you').
We went next to Juntar Mundar, an astrological/space-time related park. It's hard to explain about it, so go look it up if you're interested. It has lots of red structures: random staircases, colluseum-esque things, etc. (again pictures will follow). It is fantastic because in India (unlike the UK) you can climb on and walk all over these sorts of things. At home it would be fenced off and have big safety barriers everywhere. In India, you have to look out for yourself. It was well worth the Rs100 entry fee, but that doesn't make the discrepancy between that and the Indian resident price of Rs5 (which Rohit managed to blag for himself) any better. We sat in the park for a while and a bunch of young Indian guys (ranging from probably 12 to our age or so) came and filmed us, we all took pictures of each other and they showed a large interest in filming the girls in the group... It was strange to be the centre of such attention, but you quickly get used to being watched as a white foreigner in India.
We ran out of time to go to Ghandi's memorial on this day, so we wandered through some markets again. I picked up 'Midnight's Children' (despite what Grubin says about it) for just Rs180 (=2.33 quid). Interestingly enough, this same streetside bookseller sold 'Mein Kampf' side-by-side with 'The Diary of Anne Frank', apparently unaware of the irony. Dinner was another fairly generic curry (this time with egg, not meat). We spent the evening in on one of the balconies, talking about all sorts (much of which I wouldn't post here, I don't want to upset my dear family :)). It was on this night that love began to blossom between Becky and Loz, which was cute, but we were fairly merciless in our mocking the next night. In the nicest possible way, of course (we would expect the same treatment in the same position).
To pick up where I left off, that evening (after the fun at the bank), and that post, we went out for an evening gander through Delhi. The evening was quite nice, less hot and humid, so more pleasant in that respect. India is very much alive in the evening, things seem to wake up at about ten in the morning and go on until midnight. We walked up to Connaught Place - the main central grassy area of Delhi - which, in the midnight light, appeared to have far too perfect grass (the morning showed it to be a bit brown and patchy though). We walked through the markets and got hassled fairly relentlessly. One guy tried to sell Loz a map. He started at Rs400, and each time Loz told him he didn't want it (he actually didn't) the guy went down by Rs100. He got below Rs100 by the time he cottoned on to the fact he really didn't want a map. Loz also got himself a cheap watch, complete with painted on chronometers and plastic buttons, for Rs250 (haggled down from Rs400). And that was that for the evening.
The next day (Tuesday), we were up at about 8.30am and I had an unbelievably refreshing shower (though I was dirty and sweaty again within about 5 minutes!). At breakfast we met the rest of the Aussies (we had met Hugh the day before) including Mike, my gap partner for the next few months. We all gelled quickly and are getting along really well. Got my tickets for the 12 hour bus ride from Delhi to Dharamasala, on an apparently A/Ced bus (more later). They were Rs530 (=6/7 quid - again no pound sign on this keyboard, and I can't remember the alt+code). That is pretty cheap, you'll agree, for such a long bus journey.
We then met Rekha, the GAP rep in Delhi. She gave us a general introduction to India, which was interesting. If you wanted to know, the Indian international dialing code is +91. Next an official from the Tibetans-in-exile government came to talk to us about the Tibetans. He was a very cheerful guy, whilst at the same time he seemed a little bit quiet and shy. He was full of glowing praise (most of which I believe is very true) about the Tibetan people. He also advised us not to talk to monks about sex.
For lunch we went out to Nirula's, which is a sort of East meets West McDonald's of India. I got a chicken tikka burger and chips (for example), but you could get meals more Indian and more Western than that. I will put some pictures of that up somewhere sometime. It was far superior to McDonald's in cleanliness, taste, staff, price and pretty much every other respect too. After some more markets and bazaars, we made it back to the YMCA for a short Hindi lesson with Rekha. A quick note about Delhi - it often smells! But you get used to it.
We learnt some useful Hindi: "nhai" is 'no' (extremely useful!), and "nhai chaahiye" is 'no I don't want it'. Those are the best phrases, there is also "namaste" ('hello') and "shukriya" ('thank you').
We went next to Juntar Mundar, an astrological/space-time related park. It's hard to explain about it, so go look it up if you're interested. It has lots of red structures: random staircases, colluseum-esque things, etc. (again pictures will follow). It is fantastic because in India (unlike the UK) you can climb on and walk all over these sorts of things. At home it would be fenced off and have big safety barriers everywhere. In India, you have to look out for yourself. It was well worth the Rs100 entry fee, but that doesn't make the discrepancy between that and the Indian resident price of Rs5 (which Rohit managed to blag for himself) any better. We sat in the park for a while and a bunch of young Indian guys (ranging from probably 12 to our age or so) came and filmed us, we all took pictures of each other and they showed a large interest in filming the girls in the group... It was strange to be the centre of such attention, but you quickly get used to being watched as a white foreigner in India.
We ran out of time to go to Ghandi's memorial on this day, so we wandered through some markets again. I picked up 'Midnight's Children' (despite what Grubin says about it) for just Rs180 (=2.33 quid). Interestingly enough, this same streetside bookseller sold 'Mein Kampf' side-by-side with 'The Diary of Anne Frank', apparently unaware of the irony. Dinner was another fairly generic curry (this time with egg, not meat). We spent the evening in on one of the balconies, talking about all sorts (much of which I wouldn't post here, I don't want to upset my dear family :)). It was on this night that love began to blossom between Becky and Loz, which was cute, but we were fairly merciless in our mocking the next night. In the nicest possible way, of course (we would expect the same treatment in the same position).
Monday 27 August 2007
Welcome to India
Hey everyone,
Just a quick note about our first day in India. We arrived into Delhi at about 6.10 this morning. The flight was fine, nothing special. The airline managed to leave Corinne's bag at Heathrow, but hopefully it'll turn up in the next day or two. We were met and taxied to our hotel (Delhi YMCA). A note about Indian roads: they're pretty crazy. Our driver told us, in patchy English, the rules of Indian roads, "1st time, horn; 2nd time, brake; 3rd time, good luck!". Lanes just don't apply in India, cars drive wherever they feel like it, basically (imagine four cars and a couple of motorbikes, bikes and pedestrians on one 3 lane road). Everyone honks their horn, constantly and repeatedly. I'm still unsure on which side of the road you're meant to drive (although I think it's both, usually at the same time). As for crossing roads, 3rd time rule applies.
We got to the Y fairly early and were treated to a 120Rs breakfast (I suspect that's a bit much for what it was, but never mind) of eggs, toast & ridiculously sweet jam and these spicy veg ring things (for want of a better word). We wandered around Delhi a little bit - the poverty is visible among some people in some places, but it isn't oppressively terrible - at least as far as we went. We were worn out quickly by just a short walk because, of course, it's bloody hot.
After Indian soap operas, came our trip to the bank. And what a trip. You might think that changing 25 quid (no pound sign on my keyboard, by the way) to rupees is pretty quick and easy to do? Think again. After going to the bank to find half of it in rubble and the lifts temperamental at best, we had to go back and forth to pick up passports, etc. to do the transaction. Then there was Douglas. That wasn't his real name, but it became his name. He gave us forms to fill out, did God knows what with our passports, then took our money. And that was it. He told us to sit and wait for "Rupee". Rupee later (we decided) turned out to be a balding, white-haired, moustachioed Indian legend of a man. Probably senile, but hey ho. After an hour or so more, Tom scored some free tea (lots of sugar) from India's answer to Tom Cruise, and after another half hour or so, we eventually got some money. We spent the entire time in fits of laughter, but I guess you had to be there... Oh and the lights and fans cut out randomly too. Twice. Incidentally, Douglas gave us our cash. Which was in a draw. Under his desk. Where it had been all along. Yeah.
Since that time we've been slowly whiling away the hours to dinner, which was a generic curry. And that's about it. It's 7.40pm over here, and we'll be off to sleep in the next few hours. Tomorrow we'll be up, as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as I always am in the mornings, for our first orientation stuff. It'll be nice to meet someone who knows what the hell is going on...
Put simply, India is awesome.
Love Robbie
Just a quick note about our first day in India. We arrived into Delhi at about 6.10 this morning. The flight was fine, nothing special. The airline managed to leave Corinne's bag at Heathrow, but hopefully it'll turn up in the next day or two. We were met and taxied to our hotel (Delhi YMCA). A note about Indian roads: they're pretty crazy. Our driver told us, in patchy English, the rules of Indian roads, "1st time, horn; 2nd time, brake; 3rd time, good luck!". Lanes just don't apply in India, cars drive wherever they feel like it, basically (imagine four cars and a couple of motorbikes, bikes and pedestrians on one 3 lane road). Everyone honks their horn, constantly and repeatedly. I'm still unsure on which side of the road you're meant to drive (although I think it's both, usually at the same time). As for crossing roads, 3rd time rule applies.
We got to the Y fairly early and were treated to a 120Rs breakfast (I suspect that's a bit much for what it was, but never mind) of eggs, toast & ridiculously sweet jam and these spicy veg ring things (for want of a better word). We wandered around Delhi a little bit - the poverty is visible among some people in some places, but it isn't oppressively terrible - at least as far as we went. We were worn out quickly by just a short walk because, of course, it's bloody hot.
After Indian soap operas, came our trip to the bank. And what a trip. You might think that changing 25 quid (no pound sign on my keyboard, by the way) to rupees is pretty quick and easy to do? Think again. After going to the bank to find half of it in rubble and the lifts temperamental at best, we had to go back and forth to pick up passports, etc. to do the transaction. Then there was Douglas. That wasn't his real name, but it became his name. He gave us forms to fill out, did God knows what with our passports, then took our money. And that was it. He told us to sit and wait for "Rupee". Rupee later (we decided) turned out to be a balding, white-haired, moustachioed Indian legend of a man. Probably senile, but hey ho. After an hour or so more, Tom scored some free tea (lots of sugar) from India's answer to Tom Cruise, and after another half hour or so, we eventually got some money. We spent the entire time in fits of laughter, but I guess you had to be there... Oh and the lights and fans cut out randomly too. Twice. Incidentally, Douglas gave us our cash. Which was in a draw. Under his desk. Where it had been all along. Yeah.
Since that time we've been slowly whiling away the hours to dinner, which was a generic curry. And that's about it. It's 7.40pm over here, and we'll be off to sleep in the next few hours. Tomorrow we'll be up, as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as I always am in the mornings, for our first orientation stuff. It'll be nice to meet someone who knows what the hell is going on...
Put simply, India is awesome.
Love Robbie
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