India and Nepal

 

Just two years ago I saw the first season of the Amazing Race where they visited India. It looked horrible. The poverty, the filth, the beggars -- and it didn't help that the cameras focused on the goody two-shoes mother and daughter team. Their trauma on the show became mine, and I vowed that I would never, ever visit India. Why would I want to? It looked ugly and despairing.

Then the Amazing Race visited India a second time in another season. And I saw the Palace of the Winds and I reassessed India. After having visited Europe this past winter, I was eager for something different, something exotic. India seemed to fit the bill, and when I learned I could add an extension to Nepal! I was sold. I've always wanted to go to Nepal, Tibet, and Bhutan, and here would be my chance. Yeah, I had to pay over $500 on the single supplement, but I was confident the trip would be worth it.

It was.

First stop was Delhi. Leaving the airport, I was assailed with the smell of manure and spice, though where those smells came from in an airport I had no idea. But I definitely smelled them. Rain was predicted for every day of my trip and I was prepared for that. There was mud on the ground, along with poop, I'm sure. But I was prepared. I was even prepared for climbing on the bus and having it smell like a circus. It was India. It was supposed to be like that.

On the drive to the hotel I didn't see many people, but those I did see were sleeping beneath the cover of bus stops. Three to five people were stretched out on the ground in every single bus stop. Every single one. They weren't covered by blankets, cardboard, or newspaper. They looked like they'd just decided to take a quick nap while waiting for the bus. That was something I'd see often in India: people sleeping everywhere and anywhere with a sort of entitlement that was very common. Homelessness wasn't the exception, it was the expectation.

So it felt a bit weird to check into the swanky Grand Intercontinental. Then again I'd been flying for 22 hours, so I was thankful for the luxury.

 

You can take a bath and see your partner in the bed.

Now, onto India!

It's crowded. People and animals are everywhere. It's also very dirty, but I expected that and it didn't faze me. The only thing I wasn't prepared for was the number of men standing on the sidewalks with their backs to the road. They were urinating. Every day I'd see at least eight or nine men urinating by the side of the road. See a guy with his back turned, yep, he's peeing. Children didn't bother turning their backs. They squatted right there, pants around their ankles, butts touching their calves, and let loose while facing the street. Didn't matter if there were people around or anything.

 

 

Some random building. The skies threatened rain, but it never rained again the entire time I was in India. Unbelievable, considering the forecast I'd checked every day up until leaving Vegas which promised rain and thunderstorms.

 

Cows are all over the place. They weren't kidding. Surprisingly, a lot of cows are in the middle of the streets. The reason is that the wind from the passing cars keeps the flies away from them.

 

 

Sightseeing on the drive to Agra.

 

First major stop is Itmad-ud-dauiah, or 'baby Taj'.

 

Definitely looks like a baby Taj, doesn't it?

 

 

So ornate!

 

This is the interior.

 

This is all embedded marble.

 

Pretty window.

 

Pretty typical window, lol. At least in India.

 

 

Here are pieces of the marble that decorate the buildings.

 

I found this guy in a back building, using a sort of bow to turn a lathe which cuts out the pieces.

 

 

 

 

Look at this beauty. It's the entrance leading to the tomb of Akbar the Great.

 

 

I love this building and the grounds because this feels like Asia/Middle East to me. It's marveously exotic.

 

 

Unfortunately we didn't get to go inside, but I took plenty of pictures of the exterior.

 

There's a large garden on the grounds where egret and impala(?) roam.

 

In India you don't get no stinkin' sparrows, you get green parrots!

 

 

 

After the beauty of Akbar's tomb, it was back to the bus.

Now, you can't have a report about India without talking about the beggars and hawkers. They're ubiquitous. It's like they have some well-developed intelligence network that allows them to know where a tourist bus is at any time. As soon as the doors open they're there. As soon as we leave a building they're lying in wait.

They're aggressive, pestering you, trying to make you feel guilty if you ignore them. However they're not a problem unless you allow them to be. The guide, who is Indian and lives in Delhi, even spelled it out explicitly: ignore them. Don't even say no, otherwise that opens the door for them to communicate with you. Lots of people on the tour didn't listen, though, and I had to watch them shouting at the hawkers or literally running to get away from them. None of this behavior deterred the hawkers. They sensed vulnerability and attacked with renewed vigor. They would not stop. If you bought one thing in an attempt to satisfy them and get them to leave you alone all you did was invite the others to pounce on you.

After visiting Beijing, I knew how to handle the hawkers and beggars and I had absolutely no problem with them in India. They can read your body language and know when you're not a soft target. Don't meet their eyes, don't look at what they're offering, and don't say a word. Then you'll be fine.

And if you think, I just can't do that. It's rude and these poor people need any help they can get. Forget it. These people rent babies for the purpose of trying to make you feel sorry for them. Children are denied food and forced to beg for money which they'll then either turn over to their masters or sell for glue or drugs (both are huge problems among poor Indian children). Give handouts to the homeless in your home country all you want; don't do it in India. The beggars won't be satisfied with anything you give them and will continue to hound you until you find yourself resenting them. Do. Not. Give. Money. In. India. Edit: and I want to clarify that a lot of the problem Westerners run into in these situations isn't that they're dumb, it's that they're too nice. I suppose there are worse habits to have.

 

Welcome to the onslaught of the hawkers. We experienced this every single day.

 

 

We then checked into the Clarks Shiraz Hotel, memorable because the power went out three times while we were staying there (which is apparently normal). Also, when I attempted to plug in my laptop, I blew the circuit for my entire room.

 

 

 

We ate dinner at the rooftop restaurant. Overpriced, but it was still good. I became good friends with Brigitte here. We've exchanged emails and hope to travel together on future trips (no more single supplement!). That night she was my partner in crime as we ordered four desserts and shared them.

A word on Indian food: beyond delicious. Okay, that's two words. Seriously, though, I could not get over how tasty the food was. It didn't matter where we were, what restaurant, or what I ordered. I enjoyed it all. I'm hooked on Indian food now. I bought two cookbooks when I came home, as a matter of fact :)

Next