God has five stomachs full of plastic
Trip Start
Feb 29, 2004
1
3
33
Trip End
Nov 24, 2004
Delhi,
India
Saturday, March 6, 2004
God is not a DJ, as the song goes. God is a cow in the middle of a busy road in Delhi, chewing a mixture of rotting vegetables and plastic rubbish. Delhi drivers honk at anything in their path, but cows (which are holy) are approached with remarkable patience. Only when they are really in the way (lying on the middle of the road, for instance), people stand nearby and wave their hands to get them to move - but they never hit or touch them. Reincarnating as a cow in India is a very good idea.
It has been an interesting three days in India's frenetic capital, Delhi. For most travellers, the city is a horrible place to arrive, with many scams and tricks waiting to rob them of their money and dignity. But I found it an excellent place to kick off my tour of the country and somehow avoided getting ripped off or otherwise embarrassed.
With Michele and Meike, who I had met online, I had breakfast in the Ajanta hotel, and we headed by auto rickshaw to the National Museum. This covered the whole of Indian history (and there's a lot of it) from cool prehistoric finds from the Pakistan/Indian border area, to fabulous medieval carved and bronze statues of multi-armed Indian gods/godesses, and a great collection of colourful 18th century prints (mostly featuring 'heroes waiting for their lovers to come home' or blue gods peeking at beautiful girls through the bushes. Michele studies Indian history and was able to enlighten me a little about the complicated hierarchy of Hindu gods - there are basically a few gods with specific characteristics, plus their wives, who reincarnated as different ones again and again.
Delhi's Baha'i temple
My favourite is always-smiling Ganesh, the god of good luck, who has a human body with an elephant's head.The Lodi gardens were next; this is a big park in South Delhi that beat all my expectations. Imagine impressive Muslim tomb pavilions set in a lush green park with paths lined with high palm trees, green parrots squawking in the trees overhead, cheeky chipmunks dashing around and scavenging food, and modern young Indians breaking all the rules by meeting their loved ones for a snog on the lawn.
A man came up to us for a chat (this is normal in India - we are as much as an attraction to Indians as their country is to us). He turned out to be the airport meteorologist, and as Meike is studying that topic, he was delighted and questioned the poor girl about average temperatures and rainfall of several German cities.
In one of the tombs, a man came up to me, flashed some vague ID, pinned a small button to my shirt saying it was 'his duty' and then asked me to write my name and nationality in a book, plus the donation I was going to make to his foundation for something or other. Looking at the list in his book it seemed he targeted only foreigners, and he pressured them all in giving 300-500 rupees (up to €10)... he quickly removed the button when I said I wasn't planning to donate anything. I don't think charities usually collect money in Muslim tomb monuments...
In the early evening we headed to Khan Market, a few blocks of buildings that were used as an upmarket bazaar for more wealthy south Delhi-ites. This one lacked the rubbish, stray kids and telephone points of Paharganj: here everyone has proper homes, money and mobiles. Above an excellent English-language bookstore (better than anything I know in Prague or Warsaw) the rooftop terrace of Cafe Turtle. This was the setting for a meet-up of a few people that use Indiamike.com, a great website helping travellers to India. In total, there were five of us slurping down tea and nibbling carrot cake. Unfortunately, the cafe name seems to refer to the speed of the staff, who really took their time. As the sun set, huge numbers of green parrots flew in and noisily settled for the night in some large trees near the market. The next morning, I dropped by Anu's house in the 'New Friends Colony' to drop off some books and other stuff that I won't need until I head for the Himalaya in the summer. The rest of the day was spent hopping from sight to sight in auto-rickshaws.
Delhi's landmark
Baha'i Temple was first. This must be Delhi's best modern building - imagine a serene, green park with in the middle a huge white marble lotus flower pointing upwards, surrounded by bright blue ponds and red sandstone, sunken James Bond-style buildings. Fabulous. The Baha'i belief somehow believes that all religions are to be respected and studied equally, and therefore people of all backgrounds are welcome... as long as they shut up, stay on the paths and behave, which interestingly proved to be quite difficult for some Indian tourists. Entry is free, but you have to hand in your shoes to the underground garderobe and do a short sprint across some very hot stones to reach the cool white marble floor of the temple. Before you enter, calm-looking temple guides explain that you can't take pictures or make any noise at all. Inside, an international crew of Baha'ians fluttered through the building, finger pressed to their lips to get everyone quiet, and inviting people that couldn't behave to leave.
The building was stunning - a concrete frame with Gothic-like lines arches high up above the Italian white marble floor. It's the first place in Delhi I experienced complete quiet. In the visitor centre, there were pictures of the other 6 Baha'i temples throughout the world (though this one is the best), and I learnt that Queen Marie of Romania (where I lived before) was an admirer of the faith too.
Next on the list was the Muslim Qutb Minar complex, the Mother of all Minarets. This ruined mosque marks the furthest point of Muslim expansion in medieval times. They built a huge watchtower here that was used for watching the surroundings for nasty infidels, and later used it for calling the faithful to prayer... all minarets worldwide are inspired by this one. It remains standing, about 60m high, 9m wide at the bottom and 3m at the top. It looks a bit like a factory chimney with bricks and the occasional ring of carved decorations. Even more interesting is the ruined mosque hall beside it - the Muslims who built it had demolished several elegant 8th-century Hindu temples and used the carved stones and pillars for their own house of worship. Nowadays, several halls of pillars remain, with beautiful carved figures still on it - although the Muslims hacked off all the heads as it's forbidden for them to have human figures in their artwork.
To get to the Qutb Minar, I had bargained he price of the auto rickshaw down to a reasonable amount, but halfway there the driver started talking about visiting some 'nice shops'. These people get big commissions from shop and hotel owners for bringing foreigners, even if the tourists do not buy anything (some drivers even *offered* me money to drive me via some shops). Unfortunately that means that you may get dropped at a place you do now want to go. So after I threatened to get into another auto without paying him if he stopped at any shop, he swapped me - handing me over to another auto driver who was willing to take me to Qutb Minar for the agreed price. The drive back to the city centre was less eventful, and I headed for Connaught Place, the British-designed centre of New Delhi.
Connaught Place is a system of circular one-way roads around a huge central roundabout. No traffic lights here... hurrah for the British planners, as it would be an immense chaos if there were any now. The area has nice but decrepit classicist buildings with passageways to offer shade to shoppers. It's known to travellers as a place where touts will try to sell you all kinds of things you don't want. Nowadays there is even a scam where a man squirts bird shit on your shoes and offers to clean it off in exchange for some cash. It didn't happen to me (I wear sandals, and maybe I just look fierce too) but it did happen to some other people I met. A friendly man helped me find the way to a cafe, and although I was weary of him trying to sell me something, he didn't at all, and we just had a pleasant conversation about Islam (he was a Muslim), Kashmir (where he came from), Holland (he had stayed in Arnhem for a while) and his business (selling Pashmina scarves in the US). Walking around afterwards, I ignored the many travel shop touts who said "I am not trying to sell you anything!" to foreigners.
A 20-minute auto ride brought me to Delhi's main sight, the Lal Qil (Red Fortress) with its palaces. Even for first-timers to India, it's not very special and can easily be skipped. The Maharajas did live in style though, it must have been great to address the people gathered below the huge walls from the heights of a cool marble pavilion.
Across the street I visited Delhi's main Jain temple. Jainism is a very old religion with only 24 gods, that puts respect for all living things and non-violence before anything else. It's a high-class religion with mostly wealthy followers, usually people in commerce. You may have heard of them - hardcore believers try to prevent killing any animals by only walking barefoot, sweeping the floor in front of them to save insects. In the temple you can't wear shoes, take pictures, wear anything made of leather, or be a menstruating woman (that's regarded unpure, though I wonder how they check).
Just like Hinduism, Jainism uses the swastika. The powerfully simple symbol originates from India and stands for good luck - it's Hitler who misused it in Europe. Still, it's very strange from my European background to see the hated swastika used everywhere: in temples, on shop fronts, on sacks of things in the marketplace, etc. This particular Jain temple had a bird hospital attached to it. Many small birds get mauled by ceiling fans, or get injured in traffic or by pesky children. The Jains admirably stick to their belief and offer surgery, food and refuge.
Behind the temple began the wonderfully messy bazaar area of Old Delhi. I used my minidisc recorder to tape the incredible sound of the place. A tangle of alleyways was crammed with all kinds of food, goods, decorations for the upcoming Holi and Hindi New Year's celebrations, jewellery, etc. Bands were going from shop to shop playing music and asking for money - the special thing about them was that a few of their members were very sexy looking transsexuals. I arrived at the steps of the immense central mosque too late to enter, but had the call to prayer blasted at me through a loudspeaker, saw many Muslims scurrying up the steps to be in time for prayers, and saw the sun sinking red over Delhi. Another man from Kashmir sat down on the steps to chat with me; he was on business to Delhi and didn't like it much, preferring his mountainous homeland.
After putting on mosquito repellent, I headed for the Nizamuddin neighbourhood in South Delhi, where a mosque was supposed to have special Qawwali (bard) singing in the evening. Surprisingly, here amidst green residential areas was a densely packed Muslim bazaar area, crammed with shops like that of Old Delhi, but with veiled women, bearded men, and the smell of kebabs roasting on open fires instead of the usual smell of samosas and curries. After getting lost in the maze of streets, a boy approached me to practice his English, and took me to the main mosque of the area where the singing would be held. It was shoes off at the entrance, and then I spotted the incredible tomb of a 12th century sufi (Muslim saint), the fourth most important in the world. The mosque authorities were distributing chapati (bread) to the poor, who were basically all over the place, hanging around and sleeping in the mosque courtyard or halls. I met a friend of my young guide, who turned out to be one of the direct descendants of the sufi, and it was his family who was in charge of managing the mosque and tomb complex, and collecting money to upkeep it all and distribute food to the poor. He allowed me to enter the tomb building and circle the tomb itself: here, praying men were dumping handfuls of red flowers onto it. The ceiling was solid gold surrounded by mother-of-pearl. Pilgrims from across the world visit this place and donate money or add a bit of gold leaf to the building. It looked stunning. I had a peek in the main mosque prayer hall, and saw the holy golden ball that was suspended 5m from the floor: legend goes that it cannot be touched, as it will disappear as soon as you try to grasp it. My guide said that the two holes in it were made by the bullets of frustrated British soldiers who had tried to steal it.
In the end, I did not hear the Quwwali singing I came for, but promised to come back for it when I will pass through Delhi again later on in the trip.
It was a short trip to Anu's district, where we had tasty Lebanese food in a modern club/restaurant. I'm still bracing myself every time I eat something... the one meal that will floor my health has yet to come - maybe I should just relax, as nothing special seems to happen. Although I've skipped meat since arrival, I've had lassi, yoghurt and fruit, all things that can cause disaster to a frail Western stomach.
I'm probably more at risk from pollution though. It's really very bad in Delhi, even though all auto rickshaws and many buses run on relatively clean fuel. After dark, you can see the dust and exhaust fumes swirling across the road in the car headlights. Leaving Anu's house I had to cough at the harsh air. After a day's sightseeing, using open rickshaws, my throat hurt and I had to breathe through my shirt to keep comfortable. This was after just two days in Delhi - I can't imagine how it must be to live in this.
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Next up: Jaipur, capital of the desert state Rajastan... and the Elephant festival.
Mood: good, not irritated by cows any more
Weather: hot, baby, hot
Stomach: slowly getting used to eating watery, soft food
Sign of the day: 'Keep distance, respect traffic rules' (on the back of an 'auto' taxi, and widely ignored)
