Namaste! I've been travelling on my own for twelve days now, which means I've four days out from flying home! This post covers the week after the program ended on May 16 through the night before my Jaipur trip, the 21st.
The last day of the program was a sad one - on May 16 people left in groups for the airport, and the feeling was pretty surreal. In less than 24 hours, the people I had come to know so well over the course of 4 months would be thrown back into Western culture. A lot of conversations that day had to do with our fears of reverse culture shock - I don;t think I ever really felt culture shock here other than a few off days early on - I think I was so enamored with India that it just didn't really happen... it's the reverse shock that will be strange. I saw a tourist at a palace a few days ago wearing shorts and freaked out a little bit at the total different standards of modesty here - it's been a while since I've seen legs - even my own haha.
That day I stayed at the program center, having lunch and uploading pictures from the entire semester that one of my teachers took to a web album so that we all can see them. I also made all of my travel plans with Abid-ji, and he booked tickets for me for everywhere that I wanted to go (because he's awesome). Later, I went out to dinner with all of our teachers and Nisha and her Mom for chicken shwarma, a kebab chicken roll thing with spicy sauce in New Friends Colony.
That night, I returned to my homestay, and had pretty much normal homestay life for two days. Tuesday I finally made it to the tomb of Safdarjung, which was really cool because I had read about it in the memoir
City of Djinns, a must-read if you're headed to Delhi. It's the tomb of the last Mughal emperor who was responsible for leading India in one of its wealthiest, most opulent ages. Ironically, when it was being completed, the age had come to an end, the workers got lazy, and completed it with all different kinds of stone instead of the pure white marble. Also, the inlay on the inside is missing, stolen after years of neglect. The tomb itself is also kind of neglected... the lawns are filled mostly with Indian couples sneaking smooches when they think no one is looking and government workers throwing shoes into trees to knock down the mangoes instead of guarding the tomb or whatever they're supposed to be doing.
You can see all the different kinds of marble at the top, and the grass growing in the cracks:
Safdarjung himself, and some sleepy policemen chillin in the tomb:
Safdarjung would be pretty upset about his stolen inlay, methinks:
Wednesday night the last few girls left in Delhi and I made tacos for the staff at the program center. Goutam-ji was particularly fond of these, and exclaimed "now when I go to America one day, they will say 'what do you want to eat?' and I will say 'Tacos!' and they will be impressed and say 'oh, you know it?!?!'" Delicious. First time I've had avocado in a looooong time.
Thursday morning I met Nisha at the train station to leave for Amritsar. The autorickshaws were on strike, protesting a bill that mandates GPS to cut down on rickshaws ripping people off, so we cabbed our way there for three times the price (but still only about $5). The train was fast and we were in Amritsar in six hours. We had enough time to check in at "Hotel Le Golden," directly across the street from the Golden Temple, grab lunch across the street, and immediately take a cab to the Wagah border.
The view from our hotel room in Amritsar in the state of Punjab (that's a view of the fort around the Golden Temple!):
The border show didn't start until 6:30pm, but it was about an hour away and when we got there realized why they say to leave so early: the lines go on and on and on down a path described as a "ten minute walk," so I would guess it was a little less than a mile. Women stood in a line on one side of the street, and men on the other, as far as the eye could see. In the distance we could make out the stands where we would eventually see the show, but when standing in line pressed between two village Aunties who were a little less than half my height, and looking at the incredibly long lines, it seemed impossible that everyone would fit! And of course, the queue was Indian-style, so we were pressed up against one another trying to get in, with people knowingly running ahead of the line to squeeze in further up. It was a total madhouse. When Nisha grabbed my arm to run ahead and cut a few hundred people in line, I hesitated for a second and then decided that when in Rome... and also ran ahead. The thing is though, when you're a four foot tall woman from a Punjabi village, you squeeze in with the rest of the crowd just fine and can at least be a little more subtle about it. When you're a 6ft tall white girl, it makes things a little more complicated... I definitely felt some sharp elbows, but with the height difference they pretty much only came up to my hips, so no big deal.
Once we got through the security check, we somehow jumped a line for the VIP section, and then talked our way through the ticket check. We almost had VIP seats when one of the Rajput guards, who were definitely the tallest Indians I've ever seen in my life (each one was about 6'5") ushered us elsewhere. Damn. I really don't know how any of that finagling happened (and when I say that I mean I literally don't know - they were speaking in Hindi), but it reminded me of when my parents and I somehow got backstage to meet Michelle Kwan when I was 11 at the
Champions on Ice show in Baltimore. Except these circumstances could not have been more wildly different.. In the end, however, we were found out and put with the foreigner quota, in a stand all to ourselves that later filled up with British tourists wearing Ohm tee shirts. I think I may have ruined our chances as the only person of non-Indian descent of the three of us.
The border show was absolutely wild. More wild than the show itself was just watching the crowd. People were dancing in the streets, both Pakistan and India were BLASTING music, and I saw the kind of nationalism that would rival the 4th of July, and they do this everyday! AND this was the off-season! Usually it is even more packed! There was a guy whose single job was to pump up the crowd, and he did basically everything but start the "wave." A chant started up, with people cying "HINDUSTAND, ZINDABAD!" Which literally translates to "LONG LIVE INDIA!" We also took pictures with some Indian 20somethings whose sole job it was to wave flags over our heads.
Pakistan on the left, India on the right:
When it came time for the actual border ceremony, the Indian guards marched forward and did these ridiculously high kicks that looked like they were going to concuss themselves, officers from each side shook hands really quickly, and then they lowered the flags slowly, making sure one was never higher than the other. The Indian side was definitely crazier than the Pakistani side... and Pakistan was blasting music in a way that made when look like they were trying to compensate. They separated the women and then men into two viewing galleries which were not nearly as full as the Indian side, and there was no crazy Bollywood dance party like there was on the Indian side!
The two gates pressing up against one another:
Sunset in Pakistan:
I had some identity crisis at the border, though... after months of living and breathing Indian culture, being put in the foreigner gallery with the Aussie and British tourists in capri pants and Ohm tee shirts with enormous DSLR cameras was kind of a shock to the system. I felt way more Indian than they did.. like I was definitely sitting in the wrong section. I felt too much Indian pride in the course of those few hours too feel like I deserved sitting with the tourists, even though, since the program is over, that is now what I officially am. I know it hasn't been that long, and I know that I am in no way "Indian," or trying to say I'm better than they were or something.. but I do feel like I have a better cultural understanding no that was hard won, and makes it frustrating when the guard saw no difference between me and one of the Ohm-tee wearers.
"Ohhhhhhhhmmmmmm:"
After the show, we got back in the taxi and drove back to Amritsar. It was already late.. around 8:30, so we quickly ran over to the temple to check out the view at night. It doesn't matter how many pictures you see of this place... nothing will prepare you for how breathtakingly beautiful it is. The temple is surrounded by water, and then tall walls. You enter through one corner, wading through a small pool to wash off your feet, and then cover your head out of respect. Like Mecca for Islam, the Golden Temple is the ultimate holy place and place of pilgrimage for Sikhs. The entire grounds are filled with people bathing in the temple waters, or bent over, head pressing the marble in prayer. It feels incredibly intimate to witness people making the sometimes one trip of their lives to their holy place. People were sleeping on the cool marble, tucked away from the crowds of visitors still flowing in even though it's the off-season and still hot after nightfall (over 100 degrees F) at 9pm. This is extremely sad.. but my camera battery died while we were there so I only got a few snaps!
We actually never made it inside, either, because at both 9pm and the next time we visited at 5am, it was completely packed with pilgrims. I hope to make it back someday and see inside, and get to show this beautiful place to someone else. That night we had dinner in the rooftop restaurant, and got up early at 4:30am to see the temple one last time and catch our train at 6:30. Nine hours later we were back in Delhi, and I had probably the most different experience I could have had following visiting the Golden Temple: a night out in Delhi nightlife.
I had gotten back to my homestay for only a few hours that Friday night when my friend Michaela called me and asked if I wanted to have dinner with her parents. They picked me up in an Ambassador cab (!!!), and we went out to Hauz Khaz village right past Deer Park, that place that I visited with the neighbor's family all those months ago back in February. We walked around there and checked out a few antique shops before getting back in the cab to try another place. On our way to Defense Colony, the cab ran out of gas, and we pushed the luxury vehicle to a gas station amid the cabbie's apologies as they had rented him out for the night so there wasn't much room for excuse... it was such a hilarious situation to be pushing an Ambassador down a main drag in Delhi, rickshaws and bikes and cars and trucks whizzing and honking past. We finally got to the restaurant for one of the best meals I've had in India, and the nicest restaurant by far that I've been to since coming here. It was called Swa Garth, and had lots of delicious seafood dishes (something that I'm craving about home! Maybe without all of the Indian spices, though...).
After dinner, they dropped Michaela and I off at a nightclub called Shalom, with plans to send the driver to pick us up later than night. It was my first time legitimately out at a bar in Delhi, and it was really weird.. Shalom was filled with 25-35 year old rich Indians dressed to the nines, where my cotton skirt and sandals just did not fit in. Michaela and I ordered two drinks, and when the bill came I realized it was one of the single most expensive things I've paid for in India - Rs 600 for a tequila shot - about $12. Whoops. Definitely the most expensive food item I have bought here by fair - that could pay for about nine or ten meals, more if you eat just snacky stuff.
After about 20 minutes we ditched Shalom because we felt so out of place and went across the street to Urban Pind, the iconic Delhi hotspot. Inside was bizarre.. it was a mix of western expats, people on business trips, Delhi students, hippie backpackers, and rich Indians. One of the hippie backpackers was outside and not allowed in because he was wearing flip flops... the hippie look gets you nowhere in India, a place where being clean and neat is important everywhere from temples to slums to nightclubs, apparently! There were also tall, thin 16 year old girls everywhere.. and we later found out that it was "models' night," which apparently is a weekly occurrence? Though Michaela and I are both over 5'10", I don't think we were fooling anyone. There were also Indian male models everywhere, with slicked back hair and sunglasses and shirts with the top unbuttoned - so ridiculous haha. We ended up talked to some guys from Sweden who were on a business trip, but later just made our way to the dance floor to rock out to some Indian remixes and the same five American club songs that they had on repeat. The coolest moment was when the song
Chaiyya Chaiyya came on, which is a song from the Indian movie
Dil Se. My medical anthropology teacher from Tufts played this video for us in class last Spring, the week I decided to come to India as per her guidance. The remix was awesome, and I even danced with an Indian guy who like most of the men in the club had no problem spinning around and shaking his hips like a Bollywood star. When he introduced himself, he handed me his business card with en enormous IBM logo on it, which is I guess what he was trying to show off. When our driver wouldn't pick up his phone, he offered to have his driver take us home (whoah) which probably would have been a good option, but we kept trying for Michaela's parents to send the driver who ended up never coming. In all of the confusion, the guy, Rohit, asked for my number when we were still trying to figure out if we would take his driver home, and throwing the caution our teachers had given us to the wind about not giving our numbers out like you would in America because there are different rules between girls/guys.. I gave it to him, not realizing what I was getting myself into. Over the course of the next few days, I received about seven calls. Whoops.
For a while we waited outside the club for our driver, and a wedding organizer came up to us and asked if we would be waitresses for an Indian wedding two nights later. They needed 24 western girls, and were paying Rs 6000 each for the night (that's $130, folks). I got his number and thought about it - why not?? I had wanted to see a ridiculous Indian wedding... but then I talked to Azim-ji about it and realized the implications of why they wanted western girls... apparently it's a trend to have foreign girls serve rich Indians at event to show off wealth, and I realized it was probably not a good situation to put myself in, especially since Michaela was leaving and wouldn't be able to do it with me.
Eventually Michaela's mom took another cab from their hotel to the club to pick us up (only slightly bruising to our egos). To make matters easier, I just went back to the hotel with them, since M had an extra bed. It was easily the most luxury hotel I have ever stayed in. It was redonkulous. The staff was dressed in traditional clothing and would bow into a low and slow "na-mas-te" any time you asked for a water bottle or extra towel or walked by. It resulted in this bizarre exoticized Indian culture, and it was tempting to ask "doesn't this make you feel ridiculous???" everytime I was bowed to. I have been so many places in India and NOBODY DOES THAT. Maybe a head nod, sometimes clasped hands, but a full out bow, hands to forehead? And it wasn't just that... it was the whole experience. At breakfast, they had six different kinds of cheese, and all kids of pastries. Pastries?! Are you kidding?! COFFEE?? I wanted to stand up in the room full of western tourists and say THIS IS NOT INDIA, YOU ARE ACTUALLY NOT IN INDIA IN HERE. It's a bizarre, slightly selfish feeling, like they don't deserve to come back to the west and tell people they went to India, because it was so incredibly pampered... but that's not how it works. It
was India, but just another facet of the many extremes. While I definitely having trouble reconciling the fact that I had just been in Jamkhed villages two weeks before and was now in luxuryville, it's wrong to deny any definition of India as more true than another. They somehow all exist next to one another.
Aside from that internal battle haha, the hotel was great. I woke up in the morning thinking "wow, fresh coffee, water pressure, central a/c, comfy mattresses..." and then realized those aren't exactly luxury things at home. Again, fearing that reverse culture shock..
That day I hung out with M and her parents. We went to Gandhi Smirti again, where I went with Mollyji right before ISP, and then to a cafe across the street from Urban Pind, so I snapped a picture of the club. The rooftop was the coolest!
An ambassador cab:
Bananagrams/speed scrabble. Fierce competitors. We even kept score.
Urban Pind as seen from across the street:
We played some Bananagrams and relaxed, and hit up FabIndia for the last time. M's dad is one of the producers for the show
30 Rock, so it was pretty hilarious to have to pause a game of Bananagrams while he talked to someone on his international cell phone about what they were going to do about "Tina (Tina Fey!!) showing so much since she's so many months along." Too cool.
I said goodbye and headed back to my homestay, and about an hour later we left for their cousins' house in Noida to pick up Arko, who had been staying with their relatives over the week. We stayed late and had dinner, and Avijit told the relatives about my identity crisis at the Wagah border. "Well yes, you are soooo much more Indian now!" Hahaha, I'm definitely more Indian than when I got off of the plane in February, but I don't know if I quite deserved that :) It was still nice to hear. I played "the Game of Life" with the cousins and Aura, and hung out with Andy.
We left around eleven and I had a train at 6am, and was still not packed. The drive home was really fun... we all sang along to Avijit's car mix, including Maa Rewaa, by Indian Ocean, which I posted on this blog a million years ago when we saw their concert at Dilli Haat. The kids particularly like the song because a big chunk of it is just saying "MAAAA REWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" I packed and barely slept, bound for my first solo trip to Jaipur the next morning.
At time of writing, I'm actually in Varanasi, back from my trip to Jaipur and winding up my time in India (ack!!). I had to say goodbye to Aura this morning because she is flying to Calcutta and won't be there when I return to get my things from Delhi, have my last night at my homestay, and fly home (AHH!). Next post will be on the Jaipur adventures I just came back from!
Lovelovelove to everyone at home and even those reading from India. Hopefully I've said this enough to people from home and from my program, but I can't thank people enough for the love and support over these few months. Thanks for calling, skyping, messaging, reading, and commenting when you can. Staying connected has made this whole experience so much more enriching, because I have enjoyed sharing it so much! Thank you for caring, friends, family, teachers, etc.
Love,
लौरा
