No Sleep Since Brooklyn

Day 2 - Delhi (May 26 2012)

I'm writing this now from the top bunk of a train bound for Rajasthan. My day in Delhi was highly uneventful. I went to bed last night at 7 PM after a decent dinner at a vegetarian restaurant near my hotel. I woke up at 3 AM and couldn't get back to sleep, so I decided to just wake up and take a nap later. I managed to keep myself occupied until 7 AM. After I had breakfast, I felt my eyelids getting heavy, so I laid down for a "quick nap".

I woke with a start. My room had no outside facing windows, so it was pitch black day or night with the lights off. I turned on the light and fumbled for my watch. I guessed it was about noon, and I was mentally kicking myself because I had things to do - I needed to buy a cell phone and I wanted to find an internet cafe (the internet service at my hotel was nonexistent, except for the first morning when I managed to steal a neighboring place's WiFi for about 5 minutes before I lost the signal). I hoped I had enough time to accomplish both, and maybe some time left over to check out the local market before I had to leave for the train.

When I saw my watch, my jaw dropped. It was 3:30 PM! My car was coming to pick me up at 4! I scrambled to pack my things up in time to meet my taxi. Apparently the 3 days with minimal sleep finally caught up to me.

The train station was only about 3 km from my hotel, but it took about 40 minutes to get there. I am finding this to be par for the course in Delhi. Traffic is horrible.  Also, it's not "traffic" in the way we think of it in the States. Cars, lorries, bicycles, rickshaws, auto-rickshaws, ox-drawn carts, motorbikes and pedestrians all vie for the same strips of unevenly paved road. There are no "lanes" as far as I can tell. Much like the concept of "queuing up" or "standing in line", this seems to not exist here. Everyone just crams themselves and whatever form of transport they have in the same general direction, laying on their horns incessantly. It's loud, smelly, and confusing.

Which is exactly how I found the train station to be! Delhi station is a huge cluster of old cement buildings with dim lighting. Inside, it's filthy, hot and crowded. People push and shove their way through throngs of passengers. I was actually glad the travel agency sent a guide to get me on the right train. Carrying a heavy bag, navigating the snaking passages to the tracks, and trying to hear the track announcements over the din of the crowd on my own would have been difficult, if not impossible.

We got to the right track, and as the guide led me to my seat, some clown stuck out his foot and tripped me, which prompted a wave of giggles behind me. What a dick.

So now I'm here, on the top bunk of an overnight train. I hate the top bunk (no window!  Also, it requires acrobat-like skills to get up and down). I am looking forward to getting to Jasailmer tomorrow. I've only had one real meal since I arrived, which may be contributing to my crankiness and overall lack of humor at the moment. Rajasthan is supposed to be even hotter than Delhi, a fact that my brain cannot even comprehend. My guide told me it was supposed to be about 48C tomorrow (around 120F).  

Temples, Touts, and the High Price of Fame

Delhi, Day 2

When my plane was landing in Delhi, I saw the local fire department outside, playing a game of volleyball. It was 5 AM. "Hm," I thought, "Things seem to be different here."

I had no idea how right I was. One of the first things I realized when I got to India was that I was going to have to forget everything I knew and start from scratch.  Basically, press the reset button on my whole understanding of "how things work".  None of that applies here.

My first day was very long. I got in at about 5:45 AM local time after a 7 hr flight from Helsinki. I had managed to eke out about 2 hours of sleep on the plane, so when I arrived I was  exhausted. Since I left New York two days earlier, I had gotten a total of around 5 hours of sleep. A driver was supposed to meet me at the airport, but when I didn't see him I jumped into a taxi and went to my hotel. Immediately I went to my room and after a quick breakfast of toast and tea, passed out.

About half an hour into my nap, there was a knock at my door. I stumbled for the door, still half asleep, and opened it to find the proprieter of the hotel standing there with a small, mustachioed man. "This is your driver, he wait for you at the airport since 5 AM!" They both stood there, looking at me expectantly. The driver looked so dejected you'd think I had stood him up for prom. He clutched a now hot bottle of water and a neat folder holding my typed itinerary. Still dazed and groggy, I accepted both items, apologizing profusely. I explained that I went to all 6 gates at the airport looking for him, but I was carrying a heavy backpack and was very tired, so I gave up after about 20 minutes. They both nodded and left, giving me disappointed looks. I felt terrible, but sleepiness soon overwhelmed the guilt and I fell back asleep.

I woke up about an hour and a half later and spent the rest of the day sightseeing. I was shocked to learn that the travel agency had booked a driver (same guy! augh!) to take me to all the major sightseeing spots. I am a pretty independent person, so I was a bit chafed at first. I was all set to do the sightseeing by myself - I had even mapped out my routes on the metro before I learned about the car.

In the end, I was very grateful for the car for three reasons:  One, Delhi is huge. It's probably the largest, most sprawling city I've ever seen. Trying to navigate the metro would have been a nightmare. Two, it's hot here. Really, really hot. Yesterday was around 47 C (which is about 115 F). Walking around is exhausting. After five minutes in this heat, even my sweat is sweating.

Three, it turns out that a white woman traveling by herself in India is a Pretty Big Deal. All day long, everywhere I went, I got the full celebrity treatment. Long stares (one guy even rolled down his car window to stick his head out for a better look), random people touching me (nothing pervy, usually just on the shoulder), and hoardes of school children waving and yelling "Hi! Hello!". I had experienced a bit of that in Vietnam, so I wasn't too fazed. I just smiled back at people and took photos with them when they asked (which they did, a lot).

The only time it was actually a problem was at Jama Masjid, India's largest Muslim mosque. It's a breathtakingly beautiful structure in the middle of Old Delhi that can hold up to 25,000 worshippers at once. I made sure to follow all the rules - I removed my shoes and made sure my head was covered with a scarf. I wandered around in awe, snapping photos and trying to take it all in. A young man approached me and asked me to take a photo. I obliged, and his friend snapped our photo. Then it was his friend's turn. Okay, sure. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by young men, eager to get a photo on their cell phone with the White Lady. I took a few more photos and then beat a hasty retreat back to my rickshaw. That was the only time it was a little unnerving.

This country isn't a place that is easy to describe. It's one of extremes - extreme beauty, extreme hospitality, but also extreme poverty and extreme need. The need is something I will struggle to get used to; the endless touts (my driver took me to no less than FOUR "special shopping for you!" pit stops yesterday) and feeling like everyone is definitely trying to scam you (but being really nice about it!) can wear on a person.

Tomorrow I have a "free day" before I board a night train to Jaisalmer. I will try to purchase a cell phone and practice my woeful haggling skills. I have a feeling being a keen haggler will come in handy.