The View from the Cheap Seats

Delhi is different from Mumbai. Less traffic, less children coming up to the car windows at intersections, less litter, fewer dogs, more cows, more monkeys.

People want to have their pictures taken with us in Delhi and Agra. I got stopped at the airport by a couple today, each of whom wanted their pictures taken with me. We have all been stopped more than once for this.

There are cows in Delhi, but even more in Agra. And monkeys. And goats. And camels. And at least one elephant.

I feel like my blonde hair sticks out so obviously here. Sometimes when we are out someplace we get separated from each other. People will get in between us. I can’t believe that people haven’t figured out that we are together. We get stared at a lot. I just find it hard to understand what makes us novelties. I see Indian people in he USA all the time and I don’t stare. Can’t figure out why we seem so unique.

I love the clothes that Indian women wear. They are so,light and comfortable looking. The colors are vibrant and bright. The fabrics are gorgeous. While I adore many of the sarees I see, as much as I want one, I don’t see myself getting much use out of one. But the other outfits I see often, called kurtas or kurtis, I believe, I would wear the heck out of those! They are on my to-buy list before I leave.

We had a CRAZY driver in Delhi and Agra. He drove so fast and weaved in and out of traffic, passed on the other side of the road, and was constantly on the horn. The 4 1/2 hour drive from Agra to Delhi today was harrowing. My jaw hurt from clenching my teeth. He drove recklessly. There is no other way to describe it. I found myself wondering why what would be considered downright dangerous at home was acceptable here. Ahmed is an aggressive driver, but he is not crazy like this guy was.

The Taj Mahal is beyond description. If you’ve ever seen the White House, then you know how surprised you were to see how small it really is in comparison to how big you thought it would be in reality. Well, the Taj is that in reverse. You probably think it’s relatively small, but it is more massive that you can imagine! It is a mausoleum Shah Jahan built for his favorite wife, Mumtaz, whom he loved very much. They married when she was 19. They had 14 children. Only 7 survived. She died at age 39 during childbirth. Before she died, she asked three things of her husband. One, hat he not marry again. Two, that he take care of the children and her family. And three, that he build a monument as a testament to how great their love was. It took 22 years to fulfill the third part of her request, but the Taj Mahal was built as that testament. When Shah Jahan finally died, he was also buried there next to her. They are there to this day. It’s actually quite a romantic story, and an experience I will never forget.

My father and I at Moonlight Gardens with the back of the Taj Mahal behind us.

Today I toured Delhi and New Delhi. That’s the first thing I learned: the difference between the two. Nw Delhi is significantly younger than Delhi, being established by the British when they took over. Old Delhi, or just Delhi, is the original part of the city.

Generally speaking, I find Delhi to be much different from Mumbai. Yes, there is traffic, but it appears to be less congested. Yes, there are many people, but it seems to feel less crowded. Yes, there is poverty and litter, but the poor people don’t seem to be as obvious as in Mumbai, including less visible slums, less litter, and there are even fewer stray dogs.

Delhi does have monkeys, though, which I have not seen in Mumbai. I have decided I like to see monkeys from a distance. We (my father, our tour guide Ashish, and I) had stopped so I could pull some rupees from an ATM. While walking to the ATM, I heard loud screeching and crashing around in the trees above me. I couldn’t place the sound; it didn’t sound like any of the birds I had heard thus far. Suddenly, three monkeys came scrambling down from the trees while many others remained scuttling about in the branches. To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I grabbed my phone to take pictures, entranced. These were wild monkeys, right here in front of me, in the middle of a crowded city. One of the large guys charged toward me, kind of screeching/hissing and baring his teeth. I freaked. I had no idea what to do. Sould I stand still? Should I slowly back away! Should I turn and run? I glanced at Ashish, who also looked somewhat alarmed. He told me to come up the steps by him. I did, but the monkey charged at me again. I ducked behind a wall. I had visions of being attacked by a monkey and having no one know how to stop it. After getting my money from the ATM, I was ale to snap a few more pictures of the monkeys while they were otherwise occupied, but I definitely kept my eyes open, especially in the trees above me, as we walked back to the car. So if I have to tell someone of a unique experience, now I can tell about when I was charged by a monkey in Delhi.

Another unique experience was asking to have my picture taken. Multiple times today, Dad, Brenda, Lillian, and I were stopped by Indians, both young and old, asking if they could have their pictures taken with us. We always complied. One family even put their very young baby in Lillian’s arms for a picture. Can you imagine an American stopping a stranger and placing her baby in the arms of that stranger? I finally asked Ashish about this after the 4th time it happened. He explained that we were almost a novelty. These people were from other parts of India and have heard that tourists come to India and have seen images of tourists on television but didn’t know they truly existed. So we were proof and they wanted their pictures taken with us. Many times, they were drawn to Lillian, especially the people with young children. Ashish explained that the elderly bring blessings. It was strange to be stopped by total strangers to have my picture taken with them. It’s even stranger to think these photos might be floating around the Internet and I have no clue where they are at!

My final rumination on Delhi comes as a result of visiting the location of Gandhi’s cremation. It is a beautiful site, full of sacredness and peace. I am admittedly ignorant about much related to him. I learned his name was Mohandas but his followers called him Mahatma, which means “great soul”, if I am remembering correctly, which he objected to, but it stuck. Even Ashish referred to him as Mahatma Gandhi. His work started in South Africa when he experienced discrimination personally due to the color of his skin. I am inspired to learn much more about him as a result of what I learned today.

Tomorrow I travel to Agra, which used to be the capital of India until Shahjahan moved it to Delhi. In Agra, I will see more of Shahjahan’s legacy when I visit the Taj Mahal.

Namaste, all.

Monsoon has apparently started early in Mumbai. Looks like I will be touring that city in rain for the rest of the trip. C’est la vie. It’s still quite amazing.

I have noticed that security is very, very tight in Mumbai. It clamped down all over India after the 2008 terrorist attacks. When we go to hotels, the car is inspected for explosives and bomb-sniffing dogs are used. The doors are opened and the car checked out. We have to go through bag checks, metal detectors, and wanding before entering the hotel. Interestingly enough, women are screened in a separate line, behind a screen, by another woman. Also, at the airport, all my carry on items, including my umbrella, were tagged. After they were screened, the tags were stamped. Before I got on the plane, my bags were inspected for the stamped tags. One guy didn’t have a tag, so he was not allowed to board until he had his bag checked, tagged, and stamped.

Delhi is in some ways quite a switch from Mumbai. It is way hotter, and it is very dry. No monsoon yet. It is cleaner, and while there is traffic, it is not at all as heavy as Mumbai traffic. But it is still the same in that there are still homeless people and stray dogs and traffic laws appear to be non-existent.

I am at a very nice hotel in Delhi called The Imperial. Here is their website. It is the nicest hotel I have ever stayed at. There is a Chanel shop in the hotel, to illustrate the level of luxury here. But no free wifi. Wish I understood why the cheap hotels offer free wifi but the expensive ones don’t.

Tomorrow: Delhi!!!

The lobby at the Imperial Hotel.

India Gate.

Today we went with our tour guide Meryl to see south Mumbai. I have learned that the part of Mumbai I saw today is like the “original” Mumbai, and where my dad lives and works in called Navi Mumbai, which means “New Mumbai”. So, as Ahmed told us, “Two Mumbais!”

Got to see really crazy jammed up traffic today. But what strikes me about the traffic, besides the fact that I am still incredulous that we haven’t been in an accident or even seen an accident, is that what would cause utter gridlock on the streets of the United States seems to work for Mumbai. There are no lines on the road and few traffic signals. In fact, more than once today I saw Ahmed stop for a red light as well as drive right through a red light. How can he tell when to run the light or not is anybody’s guess.

Got to see out first cows in the street today. I admit, I thought it was weird, too, when I heard about how cows are revered in India. They are not worshipped, to set the record straight. As my father explained to me, cows are seen as much more useful to man alive than as meat on the plate. They can nourish us with the milk they produce, and they can do hard work like pull wagons or help plow fields. They are so useful in the eyes of Indians that they are revered. I see their point. However, before I ever think of chuckling over the cows, I will remember this:

India, at least Mumbai, is an amazing mix of cultures that all seem to live together in relative harmony. Hindus, Muslims, Christians — and all religions in all their various breakoffs and sects — live in Mumbai, and there seems to be acceptance of those people. You will see people dressed in traditional Indian attire like saris (or is it sarees) but you will also see people in all the garb associated with their religion and/or culture, including Christians, including westerners like me (my blonde hair and fair skin has never felt or looked so out of place). Nobody bats an eye at me as I walk among the crowd. I am just another person. And I like that. It’s the way it should be. I am quite impressed with how cosmopolitan Mumbai is.

We spent some time at the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel today. There is a memorial there for the people who died in the terrorist attack there in 2008. Meryl, our tour guide, told us she was in college when that happened, so she remembers it well. She described it as “hell.” She spoke about the events of those days in ways I think we all could understand. She recounted the events using the same words and feelings we all use to describe 9/11. I remember the attacks in Mumbai but admittedly not well. Here is a link to the Wikipedia article about it if you’d like to learn more or refresh your memory.

Tomorrow I travel to Delhi. I get to fly domestic coach in India. This should be a unique experience! I am also looking very forward to seeing another part of India.

A memorial at the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel for people who died in the 2008 terrorist attacks.

Gateway of India.

Traffic so thick and jumbled, you don’t understand how complete gridlock can’t be the only result.

Places that people call home made from scrap metal built on piles of mud and garbage.

Men stopping on the side of an extremely busy road to relieve themselves. At least their backs are turned to the traffic.

Children on the side of the road in no clothes. Or if they are wearing clothes, sitting by the side of the road in such a way to show that they are not as fully clothed as I am (read: no underwear).

Stray dogs everywhere, always on the prowl for something to eat, sometimes with their ribs showing, sometimes not.

Things you can’t unsee, and you can’t express, only experience.

A homeless dog lies on rocks and garbage.

A man dressed in a pink sari disguises himself as a woman and begs on the street.

I have a new hero, and his name is Ahmed. He is my father’s driver here in Mumbai, and I must thank him for safely driving my father safely every day, and now he’s driving me, too. The traffic here is crazy, to say the least. I spend a lot of time gaping out the window, incredulous that we avoided an accident. As far as vehicles on the road, there are big trucks, SUV’s, regular cars, motorcycles, mopeds/scooters, and auto-rickshaws. And there are a LOT of all of these! There are people walking on the side of the road and down the middle of the road. There are no lines drawn on the road, and my father says when there are lines on the road, they are mostly for appearances’ sake — no one really abides by the lines anyway. The intersections don’t really have traffic lights (I have seen only 1 or 2 intersections with them), and there are no stop signs anywhere. Adding to my own personal confusion is the fact that here in India, they drive on the opposite side of the road. I know that doesn’t faze Ahmed, but it does me! Motorcycles and mopeds will zip between cars and trucks. More than once I was sure someone was going to be smashed between our car and a truck. When Ahmed needs to make a right turn (remember, that’s like our left turn), he will turn from any point in the road. That means there might be 2 or 3 cars are attempting to turn right at the same time. You have to go for it when there is the slightest opening because if you wait for the traffic to clear or for an open enough space to make the turn, you will never make the turn. There is an awful lot of braking and horn honking. Even as I write this (at 12:25 AM), I can hear all the horns from the cars 27 floors below me. Added excitement tonight was the rain. It was a torrential downpour. Streets were flooded. And it was the same exact traffic situation. People were walking in water halfway up their shins. No umbrellas. No rain coats. One man got splashed as a car drove by him through a large puddle. There were people on motorcycles and mopeds in the driving rain and crashing lightning and thunder. At one point, we turned a corner and there was a man lying face down in the middle of the street! he appeared to be trying to get up. We were all like, “What happened? What’s going on?” but Ahmed just told us the man probably had too much to drink and was resting in the road. There were people on the side of the road. Hopefully one of them was able to get this man out of the road because I have no clue how we was NOT going to be run over! Ahmed drives a motorcycle here to the apartment building to pick up my dad and my dad’s car. I was quite concerned about him driving home in the storm on his motorcycle. Dad offered to let him take the car, but Ahmed declined. In his village, there really is no place to park the car. He told my dad he planned to take an auto-rickshaw, which in my opinion is only marginally better. They are covered, but the sides are open, so the passenger is still going to get pretty wet. Plus they are little, and not all of them have lights in the front and/or the back, so they are easy to miss on the crowded, crazy streets. Dad suspected he still may take the motorcycle home.

Sunday, we are going with a tour guide to see more of Mumbai. Brenda keeps chuckling because she says I haven’t seen ANYTHING when it comes to traffic in Mumbai yet. All I know is I am glad my new hero Ahmed will be at the wheel.

How amazing is it when a flight on an airplane is a trip within itself??? I have certainly done my share of flying, and always in coach. But for my trip to India, I got to experience first/business class. My experience started when I arrived at O’Hare and had my own area to check my bags. I was one of three people in line. Then I went to my own security line. Again, I was one of three people. I managed to get from my house to my gate in an hour.

When I boarded the plane, I was thrilled to find a roomy seat and my own armrests! None of that elbow warring for space! I was barely settled in my seat when a flight attendant asked if I’d like a drink before takeoff. I got some nice white wine. I didn’t even have to use a drink voucher for it! I sipped on that all through take off.

I was recently given a hot towel to cleanse my hands. I love hot towels so much! Then I was offered a lunch — salad or mushroom Brie soup, and chicken or cheeseburger. Since I get to do this all again whenever on the plane to Mumbai,I just ordered the soup. I couldn’t resist! Mushrooms! Brie! Yum! While the food was prepared, I was brought a little cup of mixed nits to snack on. I can take or leave nuts, but I decided to nibble on a cashew (no peanuts in my little dish). I discovered the nuts were warm! I couldn’t help myself. I ate them all!

So now I am sitting in my seat with my feet up, watching the rest of a movie I started watching before take off. If this is how my trip starts, I can’t wait to see how the rest of it goes!

Update: I am now on the flight to Mumbai and I just finished dinner on the plane. Our attendant asked me, “Doesn’t everything just taste better when you’re in the air?” By George, I think he’s right!

The appetizer was jumbo shrimp with cocktail sauce. These were some big shrimp! Not Blues Brothers shrimp, but they were good sized for sure! That was accompanied by an Indian-spiced beet root cake with chat masala sauce. I’m not sure what all that meant, but it was definitely pretty! Very deep red, like red velvet cake. However, it was a unique flavor and an even more unique texture. The texture reminded me of tres leches cake. It wasn’t bad, but it took some getting used to!

There was also a salad. Pretty standard fare, but it had fresh mozzarella in it, which I adore!

I took a leap of faith in my main course and chose the Indian vegetarian selection, and it was an unqualified success! The saffron basmati rice was fine. I’ve had that before. But what I especially loved was the cottage cheese in creamy tomato butter. Goodness, I could eat that every day of my life! The chickpea dal with white pumpkin was good. I also really liked the bell pepper, onion, and coconut masala. The combination of spicy and sweet was superb! I used the tomato-onion yogurt to cut the heat on the cottage cheese and peppers. To say the meal was divine would be correct! If this is the kind of food I have to eat for the next two weeks, I’m going to do just fine!

After dinner, they came around with assorted cheeses and grapes. As much as I love cheese, I turned it down because I was absolutely stuffed from all the food so far! But I wasn’t so strong when it came to the ice am sundae…. Mine was made with hot fudge, caramel, whipped cream, and a cherry. It was the best ice cream sundae I’ve ever had!

So my trip thus far has been on nothing but airplanes and gorging myself on food. I won’t deny that I felt a twinge of guilt knowing I was actually eating fabulous food on an airplane while the people behind me on the plane were eating a boxed dinner. But I’ve been there before, and this is a special trip, so I’m going to forgo the guilt and just enjoy myself!

Now I’m going to watch Beautiful Creatures, Identity Thief, and/or Life of Pi and fall asleep in my fully reclining seat!