I started writing this blog over 2 months ago. My purpose was to document my travels so that 1) family and friends could share in my experience 2) I could look back and relive the trip in my own words forever (or until blogger deletes it) and 3) when another single black woman travels to India or any other country, she has a personal reference beyond what is found in guidebooks.
The blog was not an original idea. I was inspired to share my story by 3 people. A few years ago, my friend Kherri interned in the UK and wrote a newsletter about her life there for the people at home. I found the newsletter idea to be very creative and informative. Last year, Clarence traveled across Europe for several weeks and wrote a travel journal under a nom de plume. I thought that added touch made it even more appealing; it was like reading the start of a novel. I didn’t want to write under a pseudonym, but I did want to have a creative headline. Credit goes to Chibuke for coming up with the fitting title, “Eclectic Soul”. Finally, I was inspired by Megan Lyles, a woman I only talked to online once a long time ago. She wrote a travel blog about her trip from New York to South America by bus http://www.meganlyles.com/. It is informative, funny, and inspiring, and I recommend that everyone read at least a few entries if they want to travel to a new place without actually leaving their seat.
People keep asking what I enjoyed the most about India. It was definitely the people I worked with. They were so thoughtful. They did their best to make my time memorable and enjoyable. Moumita and her roommate, Sarika and her mother, and Anita and her husband opened their homes to me and I was able to see how real Indians lived. Their hospitality was immeasurable. Sushama invited me to her baby shower so I could see a formal celebration. I was also invited to Rupali's sister's wedding but it is the week after I return to the States. Alkesh and Jitesh planned a full day of Mumbai site seeing for me along with Rupali, Prasanna, Jaya, Sarika, and Febin. Jaya and Shiva showed me the Vashi train station, and Trunal and Moumita made my last day in Mumbai unforgettable riding the local train. I would have been miserable without all of them. They served as my translators and my tour guides, my colleagues and my friends.
A few months ago, I was inspired by a song on a commercial called “Unwritten”. Today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten. I made a list of what I wanted my book to read and it included traveling to new and exotic places. I am grateful that I had the opportunity to travel to India. I’m looking forward to my next journey around the world. Where am I going next? Here’s a clue: I named my car after the city. For those of you who don’t know my car’s name, read some of my earlier posts. : )
Thanks to those who were regular readers and sent me feedback on my writing. Stay tuned for the next installment. I’ve posted my pictures of India. Please send me your email address if you did not receive the link.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Personal Care
I realize that some people had questions on basic necessities that I didn't address previously. After I moved to the second hotel, I had easy access to grocery stores where I could buy what I needed. If you are not staying near a store or are unsure of your accommodations, I recommend bringing your own trial-size products until you can find a local store. If you're going to be out in the bush or somewhere remote, you might want to bring enough of everything to last you your entire trip.
Mouthcare
I use bottled water to brush my teeth as a precaution. I pour the water in a small glass. I think I will actually use the same method when I return home, because I use a lot less water. I brought my own trial size toothpaste, but I bought a bigger size from the store here. They have brands that Americans will recognize - Colgate, Closeup, Pepsodent. BYO only if you require special products.
Bathing
No different than home, except my first hotel only had a shower. Indians prefer showers or running water to sitting in a tub of still water. You can find a variety of soaps, bar and liquid, in the store. BYO only if you have sensitive skin that requires special products.
Hair care/skin care
There are a variety of shampoos in the grocery store, but very few conditioners. They carry brands like Dove, Garnier, Pantene, etc., as well as ayuverdic products. You won't find any Cream of Nature here. There are hair dyes, but mostly in dark brown or reddish tones. Some of the products guarantee healthy, shiny, black hair (the natural color for most Indian hair). If only those same companies helped maintain natural skin appearance also. Many of the skin care products focus on lightening skin for both men and women. BYO Recommended if you require special products.
Shaving
Gillette creams and razors are very popular here. I haven't really noticed the other brands. I've read that men should have an "Indian shave" at least once while here, but make sure the razor has been sterilized. For women, beauty parlors offer very cheap hair removal services. I recommend getting your eyebrows threaded at least once. BYO only if you require special products.
Feminine products
Stayfree and Kotex napkins are popular here, as well as a brand called Whisper that looks a lot like Always packaging. I saw a tiny section on a bottom shelf for O.B., which was the only brand of tampons. Based on what I've read, they are not widely used here. BYO Recommended
Eyecare
I've seen a tiny section for B&L contact solution in the grocery store. I've torn 2 contacts while here, and I hope I don't have to replace the other 2 before I leave. I've seen signs for optometrists while driving, but they all show glasses. I asked my co-workers if they wear contacts and no one in the group wears them. It is hard for me to believe that so few people wear contacts here. You can read about my contact solution story in an earlier post. BYO Required
Laundry
I used the hotel's laundry service for my jeans and work clothes, and I handwashed smaller items like underwaer and t-shirts. I bought a small package of Tide because it was a brand that I recognized, but there were many other options. BYO only if you require special products.
Mouthcare
I use bottled water to brush my teeth as a precaution. I pour the water in a small glass. I think I will actually use the same method when I return home, because I use a lot less water. I brought my own trial size toothpaste, but I bought a bigger size from the store here. They have brands that Americans will recognize - Colgate, Closeup, Pepsodent. BYO only if you require special products.
Bathing
No different than home, except my first hotel only had a shower. Indians prefer showers or running water to sitting in a tub of still water. You can find a variety of soaps, bar and liquid, in the store. BYO only if you have sensitive skin that requires special products.
Hair care/skin care
There are a variety of shampoos in the grocery store, but very few conditioners. They carry brands like Dove, Garnier, Pantene, etc., as well as ayuverdic products. You won't find any Cream of Nature here. There are hair dyes, but mostly in dark brown or reddish tones. Some of the products guarantee healthy, shiny, black hair (the natural color for most Indian hair). If only those same companies helped maintain natural skin appearance also. Many of the skin care products focus on lightening skin for both men and women. BYO Recommended if you require special products.
Shaving
Gillette creams and razors are very popular here. I haven't really noticed the other brands. I've read that men should have an "Indian shave" at least once while here, but make sure the razor has been sterilized. For women, beauty parlors offer very cheap hair removal services. I recommend getting your eyebrows threaded at least once. BYO only if you require special products.
Feminine products
Stayfree and Kotex napkins are popular here, as well as a brand called Whisper that looks a lot like Always packaging. I saw a tiny section on a bottom shelf for O.B., which was the only brand of tampons. Based on what I've read, they are not widely used here. BYO Recommended
Eyecare
I've seen a tiny section for B&L contact solution in the grocery store. I've torn 2 contacts while here, and I hope I don't have to replace the other 2 before I leave. I've seen signs for optometrists while driving, but they all show glasses. I asked my co-workers if they wear contacts and no one in the group wears them. It is hard for me to believe that so few people wear contacts here. You can read about my contact solution story in an earlier post. BYO Required
Laundry
I used the hotel's laundry service for my jeans and work clothes, and I handwashed smaller items like underwaer and t-shirts. I bought a small package of Tide because it was a brand that I recognized, but there were many other options. BYO only if you require special products.
Friday, April 25, 2008
My Last Night in Mumbai
Last night was my last time in the Mumbai office. I asked the ladies to wear saris on my last day to take pictures. I wore the same sari, but I had a new blouse stitched. I also needed lessons on how to wrap myself before going home. I brought my sari to the office and Iffat gave me a lesson on how to wrap it. I was able to do it with her help, but I need more practice on my own. One of the ladies also painted my hand in mehinde (henna). Many people told me I was ready to be a bride in my sari and mehinde. I just need a groom. It took about 45 minutes for her to apply the henna, and an hour for it to dry. I slept with it on my arm so that the color would darken and scraped it away with coconut oil this morning. The designs will last for a couple of weeks.
The team had a celebration for me and gave me gifts, including beautiful diamond and pearl jewelry that could be worn with my sari, a hand-stitched bag, and a hand-painted tray. The picture on the tray was something I've been looking for the entire time I've been here. No one knew that but me and God. The finishing touch was a beautiful shawl from Kashmir that Jaya gave me. Previously, she'd told me about her trip there with her mother to visit her brother in the army. I knew that the trip to Kashmir meant a lot to her and for her to give me something so personal was very touching.
Normally, I would be at work right now, but I'm using my final night here to pack and do last minute stuff. I bought an extra bag to take back all the things I bought, and I have just enough room.
The team had a celebration for me and gave me gifts, including beautiful diamond and pearl jewelry that could be worn with my sari, a hand-stitched bag, and a hand-painted tray. The picture on the tray was something I've been looking for the entire time I've been here. No one knew that but me and God. The finishing touch was a beautiful shawl from Kashmir that Jaya gave me. Previously, she'd told me about her trip there with her mother to visit her brother in the army. I knew that the trip to Kashmir meant a lot to her and for her to give me something so personal was very touching.
Normally, I would be at work right now, but I'm using my final night here to pack and do last minute stuff. I bought an extra bag to take back all the things I bought, and I have just enough room.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Disclaimer: I started writing about my trip on Saturday, but it took me a few days (okay, almost a week) to sit down and finish writing about my experience. I added dates so you know when it was written initially.
Saturday, April 19
I haven’t slept in about 30 hours. Yesterday, I left work at 2am to catch my flight to Delhi on Spice Jet (http://spicejet.com/), a domestic carrier. Mumbai has 2 airports – domestic and international – and they both have the same name. They are located about 15 minutes away from each other. The domestic airport looks totally different from what I saw at the international airport. It looks relatively new and has this simplistic, yet sophisticated design. There is marble everywhere. In fact, marble seems to be a very prominent building material here. All of my hotels have had marble walls and floors. Also, the homes that I visited had marble. Maybe later I’ll look into why marble is used so much. But, I digress. The marble at the airport had designs in some areas that looked like maharajas. I walked into the airport and all the airlines had ticket counters immediately to the left and right. There was a second set of doors guarded by Indian police with guns that opened to the check-in desks. I checked in and walked to the gate. I still had a couple of hours to kill, so I walked around the small terminal. There were a couple of gift shops and a book store open, but everything else was closed. The first thing I noticed when I looked into the gift shop window was a box of Ciallis and next to it was Viagra. I walked into the store and saw a bunch of pills that I thought required prescriptions. Silly me. There was nothing else for me to do other than read my book while I waited. I looked a little while later and saw people starting to line up to go through the security gate. I walked over and saw a really long line in the middle and a shorter line on the right that had just opened. As I was walking into the right lane, I made eye contact with an African man (#4 since I’ve been here) in the longer line. He motioned for me to go to the other line on the left. The line I was in was for men only. The line on the left was for women. I went through the female only line and waited at the gate for them to call my flight number to start boarding. I was shocked that no one asked me for my ID at the airport. A lot of people were there for those early morning flights. The other African man (#5) came over and talked to me for a few minutes while we were waiting to board. He told me I looked South African when I told him I was American. He was the first of many to say that to me today. We had to take a bus from the terminal to the plane. I thought I was going to sleep for an hour and a half on the plane, but I could not. There was a woman with 2 boys behind me. I thought the youngest one was around 18-24 months initially. He screamed, talked, pushed the seats, kicked and had a smelly diaper. Every time I nodded off, he made sure I wouldn’t stay asleep long. At one point, he stood on the seat and was touching my head. I turned around and gave his mother an evil eye for not keeping him under control. It was 5:45am and most people were trying to catch a quick nap. She made that impossible for everyone. When we arrived at Delhi, and took the bus to the terminal, I saw the boy fully for the first time. He looked like he was at least 3, maybe 4.
The hotel sent a driver to pick me up from the airport. My first impression leaving the airport was pretty good. The streets were clean and pot-hole free, unlike Mumbai. They even had recycle bins and signs to keep the city clean and green. I also didn’t see any beggars. All of that soon changed. The ubiquitous piles of rotting garbage soon emerged, and we seemed to step back in time. There were carts pulled by cows and small horses (not sure if I should call them ponies or just malnourished horses). There were also bicycle rickshaws along with green and yellow auto rickshaws.
I booked the budget hotel, Hotel Ajanta (http://www.hotelajanta.com/), online with hotels.com, so I wasn’t sure of what to expect. The hotel is in a very busy area surrounded by other budget hotels and travel companies catering to foreigners, i.e. tourist traps. The hotel manager tried to give me a higher rate than what I paid online. I showed him my paperwork and he seemed to lose some steam. The room that they gave me was not what I paid for. I looked at the website again to be sure, and I showed it to one of the hotel workers at the front desk. He told me that I checked in before the regular 12 pm check-in time so they gave me that room until 12. Ha. No one said that when I checked in. They were expecting me not to say anything. These people underestimate me.
I walked outside around the hotel while waiting to change rooms. Every other stall is a travel agency. I also looked at another hotel where I was planning to stay originally (had they responded to me). If I didn’t like my new room, I had a back-up plan. The new room was better, but still not great. I showered, but refused to use the towels. I also asked for clean sheets to put on top of what was already there. You get what you pay for. I took a rickshaw to Connaught Place (CP) to find food, shopping, and entertainment. I asked the hotel staff how much I should expect to pay the rickshaw before leaving. The rickshaws have meters but they are not always used. It is very important to get a somewhat objective local to provide the rate so that you have a bargaining position with the driver. If you go into it blindly and accept the rate that they give, you could end up paying 2-3 times more than necessary. I ate and shopped at CP. I also made dinner plans with a woman from my office who is working in Delhi. I walked around CP and the surrounding area for hours before dinnertime. I was approached with the same scam 3 times. Very friendly locals wanted to show me a market with good deals. I had already heard of the place and didn’t need an escort. They were eager to get me there because the merchants give them a cut of the jacked-up prices they charge tourists. They all had the same lines, which reminded me of the kids on the train in NY who sell candy. Two of them were teenagers “practicing” their English with me. I told them to stop following me. I walked around for most of the day and stopped at a coffee shop for refreshment before dinner.
I met Tracey for dinner in an area mostly occupied by expats. The restaurant had a movie theme and served Western food. Tracey was scheduled to be in Delhi for 9 weeks, but she’s leaving after 6 weeks. She doesn’t appear to be as open to India. She told me that she developed a horrible sickness while here and now she refuses to eat anywhere but her hotel and this particular restaurant. We talked about our experiences here. I told her about my day at the parlor after she mentioned her spa treatments at the hotel. I asked her if they bleached her feet too, but of course they didn’t. Her skin is already ideal; she’s white. She found all the emphasis on whitening creams and fairness ads to be disturbing too. We talked for a while and enjoyed good food before leaving for our respective hotels.
Sunday, April 20
Today, I woke up at 4:30am so that I would be ready to leave at 5:30am. I scheduled a tour online with Informative Tours (http://www.indiatraveltours.com/agra%20day%20trip.htm) to see Agra. A driver picked me up from the hotel and took me to the train station. He gave me my tickets and instructions for the rest of the day. The train ride was 2 hours from Delhi to Agra with tea and breakfast. There were so many people at the train station. My car was filled mostly with tourists going to Agra. I brought a newspaper along to read on the train. I started reading and then decided to look out at the countryside instead. All along the tracks were men squatting with their bottle or bucket of water. The train stopped and a man just went about his business with all the passengers staring down at him. I went back to my newspaper. I could do without “the view”. When the announcer said the next stop was Agra, half of my car stood up to disembark. I walked out and saw someone holding a sign with that was supposed to be my name, except it was spelled “Alizabeth”.
An English-speaking guide named Edwin Benjamin Lal (yes, he told me his full name) met me at the gate with a driver. We went to a local 5-star hotel, Hotel Taj View, where I could freshen up. This was the same hotel where I would have lunch later. He asked me what order I preferred to see the 3 monuments and gave me a short description of each. I decided to see Fatehpur Sikri (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fatehpur_Sikri) first, since it was the farthest away (over an hour). After visiting Fatehpur Sikri, I would have lunch, and then visit Agra Fort and Taj Mahal. Edwin talked a lot about the sites and about the city of Agra during the drive. He also talked about his family. He’s the only Christian I’ve met my whole time in India. The driver took us to a parking lot near Fatehpur Sikri where we had to catch a bus to the entrance at the top of the hill. The bus driver wanted to wait on 2-3 more tourists to come since it was just me and my guide. Two women came and he still wanted to wait on more. Then, he hit paydirt when a whole bus full of Russians started walking over. They were a huge target for hawkers. All of a sudden, the bus was swarmed by people trying to sell their wares.
Fatehpur Sikri was built by Mughal King Akbar. The legend says that he was married to a Muslim woman and did not produce children. She encouraged him to marry another woman to bear a child. He married a Jew – still no child. Finally, he married a Hindu woman and still did not produce an heir. He went to see a saint and made a sacrifice, and later his third wife bore a child. (I don’t think it was his, but who am I to destroy the legend.) Anyway, the fort contains marvelous buildings and carvings in red sandstone. There was a pillar that I found very interesting. It contained symbols from Islam (crescents), Judaism (stars), Hinduism (swastikas and lotus), and other secular symbols (mostly Persian). He built each of his wives a home that incorporated her religious beliefs and lifestyle. The Hindu wife had the most elaborate home and temple because she bore the son. He created a religion that incorporated all 3 religions into one, but it didn’t really catch on. There was a slimy green pool on the side where 2 men would jump for the tourists’ money. I thought it was pretty degrading, but it showed how people are willing to debase themselves at a price. There is also a mosque attached to the back of the fort. I walked around the back and saw the mausoleum from the back side. There were huge bee hives hanging from the top of the domes at the entrance. I was frightened at the thought of those things falling on the people below.
We drove back to the hotel where I had lunch. The food wasn’t very good. It seemed like they watered it down too much for the tourists. There were shops inside the hotel where I walked around to kill the rest of the hour. I bought some leather (camel) shoes for Rs 600 after bargaining down from Rs 1150. Pay attention because the shoes come up again later. Edwin and the driver came back to pick me up in a new car. The air conditioner wasn’t working in the old one, and I wasn’t going to make it through the day riding with the windows down with all those smells. (Aside: My uvula has never worked as much as it has since I’ve been here.) We headed over to Agra Fort (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agra_Fort). It was built by Shah Jahan, Akbar’s grandson. He also built the Taj Mahal, which is not too far, and is visible from the fort. I took several pictures with the back of the Taj Mahal as a backdrop. Most of the fort is made of local red sandstone and marble from Rajasthan. There was also gold on some structures that was stolen at some point by the British or some other conquerors. The buildings were very cool inside even though the sun was beaming down and the heat was unbearable outside.
After leaving the fort, we went to several stores. As part of the tour, Edwin had to take me to certain markets. He told me I didn’t have to buy anything unless I wanted to. Apparently, all of the tour companies do the same thing because I kept running into the same tourists. There were also shops that I saw where I wanted to stop and he obliged. At one very fancy multileveled store, I asked the saleslady not to follow me. She told the other lady and they backed off. Then, a man came over and I told him I was just browsing and he stuck to me like glue. The lady told him I didn’t want to be followed around and he ignored her. All of this was in Hindi, but I knew the context based on their body language. He kept following 2 ft behind me, and I quickly proceeded to the elevator. Do I need to wear a sign that says, “Be attentive, without hovering”? I saw a group of about 5 black people at one of the stores. That doubled the number I’ve seen my whole time in India. I think they were American even though I didn’t hear their voices, because we shared the same nod of recognition. There’s something about having no one else like you around and then seeing that you’re not totally alone every once in a while. It’s a little like seeing someone who could be your relative in a strange land. The Africans that I’ve seen here seem to just ignore me. Maybe they see me as just as foreign to them as everyone else. Or, maybe, it doesn’t really matter and I’m making a big deal out of nothing.
We went to Taj Mahal (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taj_Mahal) around 5:30pm in time to watch the changes before sunset. Vehicles are not allowed near the structures because all the pollution was damaging the white marble. We had to take a bus to the perimeter and then walk through the East Gate. On the bus, I heard an American accent (southern) offering a woman a seat. I asked him where he was from and he said, “ATL, shawty”. Ok, not really. I told him I was from Texas and we had a brief conversation on the ride up the hill. At the gate, they gave each visitor a bottle of water and shoe covers. I learned during my trip to Elephanta Caves that the national monuments charge a higher rate for foreigners. I had to pay Rs 250 at the Taj Mahal in addition to the Rs 500 I paid at Fatehpur Sikri for a daypass to the 3 monuments, while Indian residents only paid about Rs 20. The Taj Mahal was beautiful from every angle. It is a shrine to the love Shah Jahan had for his wife. It took 22 years and 20,000 workers from all over the land to build. Many of the people living in Agra today are the descendants of those workers.
Edwin showed me how the marble changed colors from the waning sunlight and the inlaid stones and gems looked like glitter. I took a lot of pictures. Shah Jehan had planned to build a black onyx replica of Taj Mahal for his own tomb across the river. He started the foundation, but was arrested by his son before he could finish. I took a picture of the foundation and its surroundings. I actually spent about 5 minutes inside the Taj Mahal. It is a small circular tomb with 2 marble casket-like sculptures in the middle. (The actual bodies are buried underneath the building.) It was hot, crowded, loud, dark and stinky. Everyone was pushing to see the middle. It was a claustrophobic’s worst nightmare and a thief’s paradise. There were signs on the outside warning us of pickpockets. No pictures were allowed inside. I went back out and took more pictures. I ran out of space on my memory card after Edwin took some pictures of me right outside the mausoleum.
We walked back to the bus and I stopped to see the wares along the side of the road. The same shoes I paid Rs 600 for earlier that day were being sold for Rs 100-250. We were going back to the Taj View Hotel to freshen up before going to the train station. I told Edwin I was going to return the shoes I bought earlier since I could get them for less on the street. I walked into the shop and handed the guy my receipt asking for a refund. He told me he couldn’t give me a refund on my credit card because he had already submitted the paperwork. Uh huh. He still had a couple more hours before the shop closed. No one settles their receipts before closing; I’ve worked in retail before. I told him that he could either put the money back on my card or give me cash back. It was that simple. He hemmed and hawed about how he didn’t have the authority to give refunds. I told him to call the owner or whoever had the authority because I wanted my money back. Then he said that credit card transactions could not be voided in “his country” unlike “my country”. Do I look stupid? Visa is Visa everywhere. All of the anger and frustration I’ve felt since being here all came to a head with this man. He underestimated me. I wasn’t leaving without my money. The other shopkeepers were standing at their doors watching the whole dispute transpire. I went back to the lobby and asked to speak to a manager, the hotel owner, or whoever had some authority over the retailers in that hotel because I wanted my money. It wasn’t even about the amount of money anymore, but the principle. This man had no integrity. I told the manager at the front desk what happened and we walked back to that store. She told him I wanted the transaction cancelled and I wanted my money back. He quickly said he would void the transaction on my card. “Didn’t I ask you to do that 10 minutes ago and you said you couldn’t?” I was so angry. He had to go to a credit card machine on the other side. I followed my card over there to watch him void the transaction. I walked out of there with my money, and resolved to never return to that place if I was ever in Agra again.
I took the train back to Delhi and was picked up at the station by the same driver from that morning. The train station was extremely crowded. Families were camped out on the platform having their dinner and they had pallets laid out for sleeping. The driver took me back to the hotel where I showered and packed my things for my flight back to Mumbai on Monday. The flight arrived on time at 2:25pm. I had just enough time to go to my hotel, eat lunch, and get ready for work. Overall, I had a good time on my short excursion to Delhi and Agra. I realize that it was very risky for me to travel in a foreign country as a single female. I was a walking target, but God kept me safe.
Saturday, April 19
I haven’t slept in about 30 hours. Yesterday, I left work at 2am to catch my flight to Delhi on Spice Jet (http://spicejet.com/), a domestic carrier. Mumbai has 2 airports – domestic and international – and they both have the same name. They are located about 15 minutes away from each other. The domestic airport looks totally different from what I saw at the international airport. It looks relatively new and has this simplistic, yet sophisticated design. There is marble everywhere. In fact, marble seems to be a very prominent building material here. All of my hotels have had marble walls and floors. Also, the homes that I visited had marble. Maybe later I’ll look into why marble is used so much. But, I digress. The marble at the airport had designs in some areas that looked like maharajas. I walked into the airport and all the airlines had ticket counters immediately to the left and right. There was a second set of doors guarded by Indian police with guns that opened to the check-in desks. I checked in and walked to the gate. I still had a couple of hours to kill, so I walked around the small terminal. There were a couple of gift shops and a book store open, but everything else was closed. The first thing I noticed when I looked into the gift shop window was a box of Ciallis and next to it was Viagra. I walked into the store and saw a bunch of pills that I thought required prescriptions. Silly me. There was nothing else for me to do other than read my book while I waited. I looked a little while later and saw people starting to line up to go through the security gate. I walked over and saw a really long line in the middle and a shorter line on the right that had just opened. As I was walking into the right lane, I made eye contact with an African man (#4 since I’ve been here) in the longer line. He motioned for me to go to the other line on the left. The line I was in was for men only. The line on the left was for women. I went through the female only line and waited at the gate for them to call my flight number to start boarding. I was shocked that no one asked me for my ID at the airport. A lot of people were there for those early morning flights. The other African man (#5) came over and talked to me for a few minutes while we were waiting to board. He told me I looked South African when I told him I was American. He was the first of many to say that to me today. We had to take a bus from the terminal to the plane. I thought I was going to sleep for an hour and a half on the plane, but I could not. There was a woman with 2 boys behind me. I thought the youngest one was around 18-24 months initially. He screamed, talked, pushed the seats, kicked and had a smelly diaper. Every time I nodded off, he made sure I wouldn’t stay asleep long. At one point, he stood on the seat and was touching my head. I turned around and gave his mother an evil eye for not keeping him under control. It was 5:45am and most people were trying to catch a quick nap. She made that impossible for everyone. When we arrived at Delhi, and took the bus to the terminal, I saw the boy fully for the first time. He looked like he was at least 3, maybe 4.
The hotel sent a driver to pick me up from the airport. My first impression leaving the airport was pretty good. The streets were clean and pot-hole free, unlike Mumbai. They even had recycle bins and signs to keep the city clean and green. I also didn’t see any beggars. All of that soon changed. The ubiquitous piles of rotting garbage soon emerged, and we seemed to step back in time. There were carts pulled by cows and small horses (not sure if I should call them ponies or just malnourished horses). There were also bicycle rickshaws along with green and yellow auto rickshaws.
I booked the budget hotel, Hotel Ajanta (http://www.hotelajanta.com/), online with hotels.com, so I wasn’t sure of what to expect. The hotel is in a very busy area surrounded by other budget hotels and travel companies catering to foreigners, i.e. tourist traps. The hotel manager tried to give me a higher rate than what I paid online. I showed him my paperwork and he seemed to lose some steam. The room that they gave me was not what I paid for. I looked at the website again to be sure, and I showed it to one of the hotel workers at the front desk. He told me that I checked in before the regular 12 pm check-in time so they gave me that room until 12. Ha. No one said that when I checked in. They were expecting me not to say anything. These people underestimate me.
I walked outside around the hotel while waiting to change rooms. Every other stall is a travel agency. I also looked at another hotel where I was planning to stay originally (had they responded to me). If I didn’t like my new room, I had a back-up plan. The new room was better, but still not great. I showered, but refused to use the towels. I also asked for clean sheets to put on top of what was already there. You get what you pay for. I took a rickshaw to Connaught Place (CP) to find food, shopping, and entertainment. I asked the hotel staff how much I should expect to pay the rickshaw before leaving. The rickshaws have meters but they are not always used. It is very important to get a somewhat objective local to provide the rate so that you have a bargaining position with the driver. If you go into it blindly and accept the rate that they give, you could end up paying 2-3 times more than necessary. I ate and shopped at CP. I also made dinner plans with a woman from my office who is working in Delhi. I walked around CP and the surrounding area for hours before dinnertime. I was approached with the same scam 3 times. Very friendly locals wanted to show me a market with good deals. I had already heard of the place and didn’t need an escort. They were eager to get me there because the merchants give them a cut of the jacked-up prices they charge tourists. They all had the same lines, which reminded me of the kids on the train in NY who sell candy. Two of them were teenagers “practicing” their English with me. I told them to stop following me. I walked around for most of the day and stopped at a coffee shop for refreshment before dinner.
I met Tracey for dinner in an area mostly occupied by expats. The restaurant had a movie theme and served Western food. Tracey was scheduled to be in Delhi for 9 weeks, but she’s leaving after 6 weeks. She doesn’t appear to be as open to India. She told me that she developed a horrible sickness while here and now she refuses to eat anywhere but her hotel and this particular restaurant. We talked about our experiences here. I told her about my day at the parlor after she mentioned her spa treatments at the hotel. I asked her if they bleached her feet too, but of course they didn’t. Her skin is already ideal; she’s white. She found all the emphasis on whitening creams and fairness ads to be disturbing too. We talked for a while and enjoyed good food before leaving for our respective hotels.
Sunday, April 20
Today, I woke up at 4:30am so that I would be ready to leave at 5:30am. I scheduled a tour online with Informative Tours (http://www.indiatraveltours.com/agra%20day%20trip.htm) to see Agra. A driver picked me up from the hotel and took me to the train station. He gave me my tickets and instructions for the rest of the day. The train ride was 2 hours from Delhi to Agra with tea and breakfast. There were so many people at the train station. My car was filled mostly with tourists going to Agra. I brought a newspaper along to read on the train. I started reading and then decided to look out at the countryside instead. All along the tracks were men squatting with their bottle or bucket of water. The train stopped and a man just went about his business with all the passengers staring down at him. I went back to my newspaper. I could do without “the view”. When the announcer said the next stop was Agra, half of my car stood up to disembark. I walked out and saw someone holding a sign with that was supposed to be my name, except it was spelled “Alizabeth”.
An English-speaking guide named Edwin Benjamin Lal (yes, he told me his full name) met me at the gate with a driver. We went to a local 5-star hotel, Hotel Taj View, where I could freshen up. This was the same hotel where I would have lunch later. He asked me what order I preferred to see the 3 monuments and gave me a short description of each. I decided to see Fatehpur Sikri (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fatehpur_Sikri) first, since it was the farthest away (over an hour). After visiting Fatehpur Sikri, I would have lunch, and then visit Agra Fort and Taj Mahal. Edwin talked a lot about the sites and about the city of Agra during the drive. He also talked about his family. He’s the only Christian I’ve met my whole time in India. The driver took us to a parking lot near Fatehpur Sikri where we had to catch a bus to the entrance at the top of the hill. The bus driver wanted to wait on 2-3 more tourists to come since it was just me and my guide. Two women came and he still wanted to wait on more. Then, he hit paydirt when a whole bus full of Russians started walking over. They were a huge target for hawkers. All of a sudden, the bus was swarmed by people trying to sell their wares.
Fatehpur Sikri was built by Mughal King Akbar. The legend says that he was married to a Muslim woman and did not produce children. She encouraged him to marry another woman to bear a child. He married a Jew – still no child. Finally, he married a Hindu woman and still did not produce an heir. He went to see a saint and made a sacrifice, and later his third wife bore a child. (I don’t think it was his, but who am I to destroy the legend.) Anyway, the fort contains marvelous buildings and carvings in red sandstone. There was a pillar that I found very interesting. It contained symbols from Islam (crescents), Judaism (stars), Hinduism (swastikas and lotus), and other secular symbols (mostly Persian). He built each of his wives a home that incorporated her religious beliefs and lifestyle. The Hindu wife had the most elaborate home and temple because she bore the son. He created a religion that incorporated all 3 religions into one, but it didn’t really catch on. There was a slimy green pool on the side where 2 men would jump for the tourists’ money. I thought it was pretty degrading, but it showed how people are willing to debase themselves at a price. There is also a mosque attached to the back of the fort. I walked around the back and saw the mausoleum from the back side. There were huge bee hives hanging from the top of the domes at the entrance. I was frightened at the thought of those things falling on the people below.
We drove back to the hotel where I had lunch. The food wasn’t very good. It seemed like they watered it down too much for the tourists. There were shops inside the hotel where I walked around to kill the rest of the hour. I bought some leather (camel) shoes for Rs 600 after bargaining down from Rs 1150. Pay attention because the shoes come up again later. Edwin and the driver came back to pick me up in a new car. The air conditioner wasn’t working in the old one, and I wasn’t going to make it through the day riding with the windows down with all those smells. (Aside: My uvula has never worked as much as it has since I’ve been here.) We headed over to Agra Fort (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agra_Fort). It was built by Shah Jahan, Akbar’s grandson. He also built the Taj Mahal, which is not too far, and is visible from the fort. I took several pictures with the back of the Taj Mahal as a backdrop. Most of the fort is made of local red sandstone and marble from Rajasthan. There was also gold on some structures that was stolen at some point by the British or some other conquerors. The buildings were very cool inside even though the sun was beaming down and the heat was unbearable outside.
After leaving the fort, we went to several stores. As part of the tour, Edwin had to take me to certain markets. He told me I didn’t have to buy anything unless I wanted to. Apparently, all of the tour companies do the same thing because I kept running into the same tourists. There were also shops that I saw where I wanted to stop and he obliged. At one very fancy multileveled store, I asked the saleslady not to follow me. She told the other lady and they backed off. Then, a man came over and I told him I was just browsing and he stuck to me like glue. The lady told him I didn’t want to be followed around and he ignored her. All of this was in Hindi, but I knew the context based on their body language. He kept following 2 ft behind me, and I quickly proceeded to the elevator. Do I need to wear a sign that says, “Be attentive, without hovering”? I saw a group of about 5 black people at one of the stores. That doubled the number I’ve seen my whole time in India. I think they were American even though I didn’t hear their voices, because we shared the same nod of recognition. There’s something about having no one else like you around and then seeing that you’re not totally alone every once in a while. It’s a little like seeing someone who could be your relative in a strange land. The Africans that I’ve seen here seem to just ignore me. Maybe they see me as just as foreign to them as everyone else. Or, maybe, it doesn’t really matter and I’m making a big deal out of nothing.
We went to Taj Mahal (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taj_Mahal) around 5:30pm in time to watch the changes before sunset. Vehicles are not allowed near the structures because all the pollution was damaging the white marble. We had to take a bus to the perimeter and then walk through the East Gate. On the bus, I heard an American accent (southern) offering a woman a seat. I asked him where he was from and he said, “ATL, shawty”. Ok, not really. I told him I was from Texas and we had a brief conversation on the ride up the hill. At the gate, they gave each visitor a bottle of water and shoe covers. I learned during my trip to Elephanta Caves that the national monuments charge a higher rate for foreigners. I had to pay Rs 250 at the Taj Mahal in addition to the Rs 500 I paid at Fatehpur Sikri for a daypass to the 3 monuments, while Indian residents only paid about Rs 20. The Taj Mahal was beautiful from every angle. It is a shrine to the love Shah Jahan had for his wife. It took 22 years and 20,000 workers from all over the land to build. Many of the people living in Agra today are the descendants of those workers.
Edwin showed me how the marble changed colors from the waning sunlight and the inlaid stones and gems looked like glitter. I took a lot of pictures. Shah Jehan had planned to build a black onyx replica of Taj Mahal for his own tomb across the river. He started the foundation, but was arrested by his son before he could finish. I took a picture of the foundation and its surroundings. I actually spent about 5 minutes inside the Taj Mahal. It is a small circular tomb with 2 marble casket-like sculptures in the middle. (The actual bodies are buried underneath the building.) It was hot, crowded, loud, dark and stinky. Everyone was pushing to see the middle. It was a claustrophobic’s worst nightmare and a thief’s paradise. There were signs on the outside warning us of pickpockets. No pictures were allowed inside. I went back out and took more pictures. I ran out of space on my memory card after Edwin took some pictures of me right outside the mausoleum.
We walked back to the bus and I stopped to see the wares along the side of the road. The same shoes I paid Rs 600 for earlier that day were being sold for Rs 100-250. We were going back to the Taj View Hotel to freshen up before going to the train station. I told Edwin I was going to return the shoes I bought earlier since I could get them for less on the street. I walked into the shop and handed the guy my receipt asking for a refund. He told me he couldn’t give me a refund on my credit card because he had already submitted the paperwork. Uh huh. He still had a couple more hours before the shop closed. No one settles their receipts before closing; I’ve worked in retail before. I told him that he could either put the money back on my card or give me cash back. It was that simple. He hemmed and hawed about how he didn’t have the authority to give refunds. I told him to call the owner or whoever had the authority because I wanted my money back. Then he said that credit card transactions could not be voided in “his country” unlike “my country”. Do I look stupid? Visa is Visa everywhere. All of the anger and frustration I’ve felt since being here all came to a head with this man. He underestimated me. I wasn’t leaving without my money. The other shopkeepers were standing at their doors watching the whole dispute transpire. I went back to the lobby and asked to speak to a manager, the hotel owner, or whoever had some authority over the retailers in that hotel because I wanted my money. It wasn’t even about the amount of money anymore, but the principle. This man had no integrity. I told the manager at the front desk what happened and we walked back to that store. She told him I wanted the transaction cancelled and I wanted my money back. He quickly said he would void the transaction on my card. “Didn’t I ask you to do that 10 minutes ago and you said you couldn’t?” I was so angry. He had to go to a credit card machine on the other side. I followed my card over there to watch him void the transaction. I walked out of there with my money, and resolved to never return to that place if I was ever in Agra again.
I took the train back to Delhi and was picked up at the station by the same driver from that morning. The train station was extremely crowded. Families were camped out on the platform having their dinner and they had pallets laid out for sleeping. The driver took me back to the hotel where I showered and packed my things for my flight back to Mumbai on Monday. The flight arrived on time at 2:25pm. I had just enough time to go to my hotel, eat lunch, and get ready for work. Overall, I had a good time on my short excursion to Delhi and Agra. I realize that it was very risky for me to travel in a foreign country as a single female. I was a walking target, but God kept me safe.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
I'm ok
The itching and redness has subsided. My skin is back to normal. I don't think it was anything I ate, because I've been eating the same spices for the past 5 weeks with no issues other than diarrhea a couple of days. It could have been the laundry detergent because the rash only covered the parts of me that were in a t-shirt. However, all of my clothes were washed in the same detergent (Tide) and I didn't have any other reactions. Oh well. All that matters is that I'm better now.
I need to start packing for my trip tonight/tomorrow morning. I'm about to head out for lunch and then I'll come back and pack for my weekend trip.
I need to start packing for my trip tonight/tomorrow morning. I'm about to head out for lunch and then I'll come back and pack for my weekend trip.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
I went to the doctor yesterday, and she said the itching and redness was probably due to an allergic reaction to something, but I'm not sure what. She prescribed calamine lotion and some alergy pills. The hospital was a lot better than I imagined. It looked fairly new and the facilities were clean and modern.
Yesterday, Sarika invited me to lunch at her home. Her mother made a delicious seafood meal and we watched a Hindi movie before leaving. Anita invited me to her home last Sunday before the baby shower, and she also cooked for me. Everyone has been so hospitable.
Today, someone finally spoke to me instead of just staring. I was walking in front of a mall when a Sikh turned to me and asked me which country I was from.
I'm going to Delhi this weekend, and I'll also visit Taj Mahal in Agra. I need to buy a new bag to take all the things I've bought here back home. I brought an empty suitcase, but I need more room.
Yesterday, Sarika invited me to lunch at her home. Her mother made a delicious seafood meal and we watched a Hindi movie before leaving. Anita invited me to her home last Sunday before the baby shower, and she also cooked for me. Everyone has been so hospitable.
Today, someone finally spoke to me instead of just staring. I was walking in front of a mall when a Sikh turned to me and asked me which country I was from.
I'm going to Delhi this weekend, and I'll also visit Taj Mahal in Agra. I need to buy a new bag to take all the things I've bought here back home. I brought an empty suitcase, but I need more room.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Sari, Baby, Henna
All the ladies on our team wore saris on last Monday for Gudi Padava, or the New Year. It was the celebration for N. Indians, but each region seems to have their own date to commemorate the New Year. S. Indians and Bengalis celebrated the New Year on yesterday. I brought my sari to work with me on last Monday so the ladies could show me how to wear it. It took 3 of them to put the pins in the right place and make me look like a proper Indian woman. I was amazed that they were able to dress themselves at home with no help, because it seems like a very complex process to get the pleats and things looking just right. They told me that it comes with practice. After they wrapped me in the sari, we took pictures – first in the bathroom and then out on the terrace of the office building. The sun was setting and provided just enough light to show off the beautiful colors on the ladies. It felt like we were doing a photo shoot. Saris range in colors and designs, and come in many different fabrics, including cotton, silk, etc. with or without sequins, embroidery, and other embellishments. You can get a good sari for Rs 500 – 1000 (around 25 USD), but they become more expensive (Rs 10000 or more) if there is a lot of embroidery or special work, like for weddings. The sari is a long piece of cloth, probably around 3 yards that is wrapped around the woman’s body in different ways. They showed me about 4 different methods of wrapping the top usually based on the region. One size fits all. The sari is pretty comfortable to wear when sitting, but it can make walking challenging. It is very similar to wearing a ball gown like a wedding dress or debutante dress, because you have to kick the dress out while you walk to avoid stepping on it. You also have to remember to raise it up when walking up stairs so you won’t trip on it. (I forgot that a couple of times.) It can also be cumbersome if you choose to wear it so it drapes over your arm. Your arm will become tired of holding it up and you also have to worry about it slipping off when you move. Overall, I enjoyed the experience and look forward to another occasion where I can wear my sari. I felt like a princess.
I didn’t do much around the hotel last week. I was happy that I had options for food and entertainment between sleeping and working. However, I almost had a Naomi Campbell moment in a store. I ran out of contact solution, and I went to the mall to buy more. Contacts are not a popular option here. Each of the malls next to my hotel has a supermarket named “Food Bazaar”. Neither of them had solution, but I remembered seeing it somewhere in the mall previously. I saw the Health and Beauty Store that I swore I wouldn’t go back to after they followed me around the last time and I practically ran out so I could breathe. I was desperate, so I gave it a shot anyway. The store is around 200 square feet with 3 small bisecting aisles. It is tiny and crammed with all kinds of cosmetics, fragrances, and personal products that you would find at your local Walgreen’s. Every 3 feet, someone stopped to ask me if wanted to try whatever was in their tiny section. That store was way too small to have that many people working there. They should have had no more than 3 employees in the store at one time. The solution was on the back wall. I was standing in the middle of that aisle with 3 sales people on each side of me. I wanted to scream. I proceeded to the counter to pay for it, and the guy told me it was Rs 145. The sign said 90. I walked back over to that aisle with my entourage and showed him the price. He said that was the old amount. Can you say price gauging? If I didn’t need the solution so badly, and if I had another option nearby, I would have walked out and never returned. But, he had me.
My co-worker, Sushuma (pronounced Sooshma), invited me to her baby shower on Sunday. I was excited to participate in traditional festivities. Anita told me a little bit about what to expect at an Indian shower. There are some distinct differences between Indian and American baby showers. First of all, the shower is to celebrate the mother-to-be only. People do not give gifts for the baby. Instead, the mother is showered with money, food, clothing, and other gifts. People do not give gifts for the baby until after he/she is born. The second difference is that there are no silly games. The focus is totally on the mother. We arrived at the apartment where the shower was held, and there were already a few older women sitting on the floor. More and more women arrived as the party went on. Sushuma sat on a decorated swing with a small table in front of her. Each guest blessed her by putting a red dot on her forehead, pouring rice and coconuts in her lap, feeding her a bit of a sweet, and giving her whatever gift they brought. First, her mother-in-law and her mother did special blessings with a candle. Next, other elders did something similar. Then, younger married women blessed her, followed by unmarried younger women. Those who came in late took their turns also. After all the women had blessed her, some of the older women started singing songs to her. It was a very nice affair. However, we heard the incessant sound of Fur Elise during the whole ceremony. The door to the apartment was open, and every time someone opened the gate to the elevator, the song would play. Everyone else seemed to ignore it. After all the blessings and songs, we proceeded downstairs where there was a tent setup on the patio. Both men and women partook in the reception. The food (veg) was good and it was a really nice night. We took a few more pictures with Sushuma before leaving.
Yesterday, I took a rickshaw to a street close to my hotel with several markets and shops. I could have walked, but it was too hot for that. I wore a hat, but people still seemed to stare at me. I saw a few items I wanted to buy for my nephews, but they cost just as much (or more) than adult clothes. Since that was my first time shopping for children’s clothes alone, I thought I should wait until I could talk to Anita or Sarika about how much they should cost. Later, Anita told me they were priced correctly, and that the stores charge more to make clothing for children because they have to cut the material smaller, or so they say. I went to another shop with reasonably priced dress material for women. They had their own tailor that could make the pieces for you. Tailors are very common here. I chose some material that I liked, but I wanted it made into western-styled summer dresses, not a salwar kameez. The material for a salwar kameez comes in 2 pieces with different patterns. One piece is used for the top and the other is used for the pants. There is a scarf too. It cost about $7 more for me to have 2 dresses made from the material. The owner and his wife were very friendly. She asked me if I was South African even though my hair was covered. I told her I was an American here for business. She had a salon above the store and asked me if I wanted to go up for any services. I asked her how much she charged for henna. I’ve been considering henna for my hair for a while, but I just hadn’t gotten around to doing it. I knew that I had to do it while in India, since it’s so common here. Henna is a natural dye that is used on hair and also to temporarily tattoo skin (also called mehinde). The natural color of henna is reddish, but it can be modified with other ingredients to produce brown tones or black. It has conditioning properties that strengthen the hair also. The lady applied the henna, and an hour later, my hair had a red tint very similar to the color I dyed my hair a few years ago. I was very pleased with the color, but they did not know how to wash my hair. LOL
I didn't think I would need to use my International SOS card for medical emergencies, but I had to make that call a few minutes ago. I've developed a rash all over my torso, back, and neck. While I was at work tonight, I kept scratching my back thinking that mosquito bites were making me itch. I looked in the mirror when I got to the hotel and saw red patches all over my upper body - not mosquito bites. I have no idea what caused it. SOS advised me to take some Benadryl, which I brought in my emergency medical kit, and they are going to schedule an appointment for me tomorrow with an English-speaking doctor. We'll see what happens. I just want to stop itching.
I didn’t do much around the hotel last week. I was happy that I had options for food and entertainment between sleeping and working. However, I almost had a Naomi Campbell moment in a store. I ran out of contact solution, and I went to the mall to buy more. Contacts are not a popular option here. Each of the malls next to my hotel has a supermarket named “Food Bazaar”. Neither of them had solution, but I remembered seeing it somewhere in the mall previously. I saw the Health and Beauty Store that I swore I wouldn’t go back to after they followed me around the last time and I practically ran out so I could breathe. I was desperate, so I gave it a shot anyway. The store is around 200 square feet with 3 small bisecting aisles. It is tiny and crammed with all kinds of cosmetics, fragrances, and personal products that you would find at your local Walgreen’s. Every 3 feet, someone stopped to ask me if wanted to try whatever was in their tiny section. That store was way too small to have that many people working there. They should have had no more than 3 employees in the store at one time. The solution was on the back wall. I was standing in the middle of that aisle with 3 sales people on each side of me. I wanted to scream. I proceeded to the counter to pay for it, and the guy told me it was Rs 145. The sign said 90. I walked back over to that aisle with my entourage and showed him the price. He said that was the old amount. Can you say price gauging? If I didn’t need the solution so badly, and if I had another option nearby, I would have walked out and never returned. But, he had me.
My co-worker, Sushuma (pronounced Sooshma), invited me to her baby shower on Sunday. I was excited to participate in traditional festivities. Anita told me a little bit about what to expect at an Indian shower. There are some distinct differences between Indian and American baby showers. First of all, the shower is to celebrate the mother-to-be only. People do not give gifts for the baby. Instead, the mother is showered with money, food, clothing, and other gifts. People do not give gifts for the baby until after he/she is born. The second difference is that there are no silly games. The focus is totally on the mother. We arrived at the apartment where the shower was held, and there were already a few older women sitting on the floor. More and more women arrived as the party went on. Sushuma sat on a decorated swing with a small table in front of her. Each guest blessed her by putting a red dot on her forehead, pouring rice and coconuts in her lap, feeding her a bit of a sweet, and giving her whatever gift they brought. First, her mother-in-law and her mother did special blessings with a candle. Next, other elders did something similar. Then, younger married women blessed her, followed by unmarried younger women. Those who came in late took their turns also. After all the women had blessed her, some of the older women started singing songs to her. It was a very nice affair. However, we heard the incessant sound of Fur Elise during the whole ceremony. The door to the apartment was open, and every time someone opened the gate to the elevator, the song would play. Everyone else seemed to ignore it. After all the blessings and songs, we proceeded downstairs where there was a tent setup on the patio. Both men and women partook in the reception. The food (veg) was good and it was a really nice night. We took a few more pictures with Sushuma before leaving.
Yesterday, I took a rickshaw to a street close to my hotel with several markets and shops. I could have walked, but it was too hot for that. I wore a hat, but people still seemed to stare at me. I saw a few items I wanted to buy for my nephews, but they cost just as much (or more) than adult clothes. Since that was my first time shopping for children’s clothes alone, I thought I should wait until I could talk to Anita or Sarika about how much they should cost. Later, Anita told me they were priced correctly, and that the stores charge more to make clothing for children because they have to cut the material smaller, or so they say. I went to another shop with reasonably priced dress material for women. They had their own tailor that could make the pieces for you. Tailors are very common here. I chose some material that I liked, but I wanted it made into western-styled summer dresses, not a salwar kameez. The material for a salwar kameez comes in 2 pieces with different patterns. One piece is used for the top and the other is used for the pants. There is a scarf too. It cost about $7 more for me to have 2 dresses made from the material. The owner and his wife were very friendly. She asked me if I was South African even though my hair was covered. I told her I was an American here for business. She had a salon above the store and asked me if I wanted to go up for any services. I asked her how much she charged for henna. I’ve been considering henna for my hair for a while, but I just hadn’t gotten around to doing it. I knew that I had to do it while in India, since it’s so common here. Henna is a natural dye that is used on hair and also to temporarily tattoo skin (also called mehinde). The natural color of henna is reddish, but it can be modified with other ingredients to produce brown tones or black. It has conditioning properties that strengthen the hair also. The lady applied the henna, and an hour later, my hair had a red tint very similar to the color I dyed my hair a few years ago. I was very pleased with the color, but they did not know how to wash my hair. LOL
I didn't think I would need to use my International SOS card for medical emergencies, but I had to make that call a few minutes ago. I've developed a rash all over my torso, back, and neck. While I was at work tonight, I kept scratching my back thinking that mosquito bites were making me itch. I looked in the mirror when I got to the hotel and saw red patches all over my upper body - not mosquito bites. I have no idea what caused it. SOS advised me to take some Benadryl, which I brought in my emergency medical kit, and they are going to schedule an appointment for me tomorrow with an English-speaking doctor. We'll see what happens. I just want to stop itching.
Monday, April 7, 2008
On Saturday, our company had a party at a local hotel. Every 6 months the Mumbai office has a party to recognize exceptional performance. (Is this the same company I work for?) There is also a competition between each division that involves a skit and dance - Bollywood style. I arrived just as the performances began. They were mostly in Hindi and Anita gave me a brief synopsis at the end of each performance. I stood there and looked at the costumes and dance slightly dumbfounded since I didn’t know what else was happening. Some groups wore elaborate costumes. They announced the winner, and then the real party began. There was an open bar with both soft drinks and “hard” drinks. The music was very loud and eclectic. No slow songs – mostly popular Hindi film songs, regional songs, reggaeton, soca, rock, Shaikira (not sure of her genre). All of the music seemed to have the same basic beats. Everyone wanted to dance with me and teach me new moves. Anyone who has ever tried to teach me a dance knows how difficult that is. I grew tired and went in search of food. There was a large buffet with Indian specialties that I really enjoyed.
Later, Jaya asked me if I wanted to take a walk outside because it was very hot and smoky in the party room. The Vashi train station was across the street, and she showed me the terminal and the tracks. One of the trains stopped on the tracks before heading to the depot. We walked around one of the cars which was designated for women. Typically, the train has 9 cars. One of the cars is designated for the handicapped and three of the cars are specifically for women. Women can also ride in the male cars, but it is safer to ride in the women only car if she’s not with a man. A police officer travels in the cars with women to protect them. There are a lot of rules in place to “protect” females, such as no work after 10:30pm. After our excursion to the train station, I was ready to head back to my new hotel.
On Sunday, I met Sarika at the bowling alley at the mall with her friends. She and I went shopping for a sari later. Sunday was a holiday, and the people in the office planned to dress up on Monday – women in saris and men in kurtas. We went to a couple of shops before I found one that I wanted to purchase. I also had to buy a blouse and petticoat. The final touch was the bangles that are traditionally worn. Apparently, I’m a giant here, because I could not get my hand through any of the bangles. They pulled out the largest size and it still would not fit. I always thought my hands were normal and proportional to my body. I could wear the bracelets with elastic or openings, but I didn’t see any that I liked that would match my sari. Oh well.
I’ve adjusted to working at night. In fact, my body stays on that schedule even when I’m not working. I might get into bed around 11, but I don’t actually go to sleep until after 3am. Sometimes, I watch TV or surf the net until I get sleepy. I wake up earlier on Sundays if I have something to do, but I still go to sleep late. Last night, I started reading The Kite Runner when I got into bed. I put it down around 2am so I could sleep. I laid in the dark for a while trying to fall asleep, but it just wasn’t happening. I turned the light back on and continued reading until I finished the book around 6am. My company has a small library that allows employees to check out 1 book for 7 days. My next book is Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie, a local author who has won many awards worldwide. I am mostly reading books written by or about Indians, but The Kite Runner is about Afghanistan. Both The Namesake and The Kite Runner were made into major motion pictures. I enjoyed The Kite Runner immensely, not just because it was a good story, but it also made this region of the world seem more real to me. You always hear about Afghanistan, Pakistan, and India on the news and only think of it as someplace on the other side of the globe far from home. But those places are real and real people live there. Some of the people are old enough to remember when life was peaceful, but there is a whole generation (my generation) that has never known peace in their homeland. War, poverty, and turmoil are normal for them because they haven’t known anything else for nearly 30 years.
It is hard to be surrounded by so much poverty on a daily basis. These people are so poor that they relieve themselves on the side of the road because they have nowhere else to go. On my way to work, I see little boys squatting in the dirt with a bucket of water next to them for rinsing off when they are done. It is so common that people continue on their way and don’t even seem to pay attention. I can’t imagine my brother or nephews pooping for all the world to see them. On my way from work each morning, I see whole families sleeping on the sidewalks, on top of cars, and other unlikely places. Some of them have the luxury of sleeping on a piece of plywood supported by cinder blocks. I see shopkeepers sleeping in chairs in their stores and rickshaw drivers sleeping in the back of the rickshaws. An auto rickshaw is basically a scooter with training wheels and a frame that allows people to sit across the back. It is half the size of a compact car. How can grown men actually sleep back there? I wonder if the shopkeepers and the drivers sleep there to protect their livelihoods or is it because they don’t have anywhere else to go. It’s hard to see these things constantly without becoming desensitized to the plight of fellow humans.
I asked Anita and Yagnesh if the children I see on the streets in the lower castes will ever be able to leave that lifestyle or are they doomed to live a life of poverty like their parents forever. They confirmed what I feared. A small number of them are given the opportunity through education to escape, but the rags to riches tales are very few.
Later, Jaya asked me if I wanted to take a walk outside because it was very hot and smoky in the party room. The Vashi train station was across the street, and she showed me the terminal and the tracks. One of the trains stopped on the tracks before heading to the depot. We walked around one of the cars which was designated for women. Typically, the train has 9 cars. One of the cars is designated for the handicapped and three of the cars are specifically for women. Women can also ride in the male cars, but it is safer to ride in the women only car if she’s not with a man. A police officer travels in the cars with women to protect them. There are a lot of rules in place to “protect” females, such as no work after 10:30pm. After our excursion to the train station, I was ready to head back to my new hotel.
On Sunday, I met Sarika at the bowling alley at the mall with her friends. She and I went shopping for a sari later. Sunday was a holiday, and the people in the office planned to dress up on Monday – women in saris and men in kurtas. We went to a couple of shops before I found one that I wanted to purchase. I also had to buy a blouse and petticoat. The final touch was the bangles that are traditionally worn. Apparently, I’m a giant here, because I could not get my hand through any of the bangles. They pulled out the largest size and it still would not fit. I always thought my hands were normal and proportional to my body. I could wear the bracelets with elastic or openings, but I didn’t see any that I liked that would match my sari. Oh well.
I’ve adjusted to working at night. In fact, my body stays on that schedule even when I’m not working. I might get into bed around 11, but I don’t actually go to sleep until after 3am. Sometimes, I watch TV or surf the net until I get sleepy. I wake up earlier on Sundays if I have something to do, but I still go to sleep late. Last night, I started reading The Kite Runner when I got into bed. I put it down around 2am so I could sleep. I laid in the dark for a while trying to fall asleep, but it just wasn’t happening. I turned the light back on and continued reading until I finished the book around 6am. My company has a small library that allows employees to check out 1 book for 7 days. My next book is Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie, a local author who has won many awards worldwide. I am mostly reading books written by or about Indians, but The Kite Runner is about Afghanistan. Both The Namesake and The Kite Runner were made into major motion pictures. I enjoyed The Kite Runner immensely, not just because it was a good story, but it also made this region of the world seem more real to me. You always hear about Afghanistan, Pakistan, and India on the news and only think of it as someplace on the other side of the globe far from home. But those places are real and real people live there. Some of the people are old enough to remember when life was peaceful, but there is a whole generation (my generation) that has never known peace in their homeland. War, poverty, and turmoil are normal for them because they haven’t known anything else for nearly 30 years.
It is hard to be surrounded by so much poverty on a daily basis. These people are so poor that they relieve themselves on the side of the road because they have nowhere else to go. On my way to work, I see little boys squatting in the dirt with a bucket of water next to them for rinsing off when they are done. It is so common that people continue on their way and don’t even seem to pay attention. I can’t imagine my brother or nephews pooping for all the world to see them. On my way from work each morning, I see whole families sleeping on the sidewalks, on top of cars, and other unlikely places. Some of them have the luxury of sleeping on a piece of plywood supported by cinder blocks. I see shopkeepers sleeping in chairs in their stores and rickshaw drivers sleeping in the back of the rickshaws. An auto rickshaw is basically a scooter with training wheels and a frame that allows people to sit across the back. It is half the size of a compact car. How can grown men actually sleep back there? I wonder if the shopkeepers and the drivers sleep there to protect their livelihoods or is it because they don’t have anywhere else to go. It’s hard to see these things constantly without becoming desensitized to the plight of fellow humans.
I asked Anita and Yagnesh if the children I see on the streets in the lower castes will ever be able to leave that lifestyle or are they doomed to live a life of poverty like their parents forever. They confirmed what I feared. A small number of them are given the opportunity through education to escape, but the rags to riches tales are very few.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Halfway
It’s been 3 weeks since I arrived in India. Time has certainly flown by. The part of the experience I dislike so far has been all the time I spent inside my hotel room at The Park. There are no shops or restaurants nearby, only businesses and the police training facility. I am moving to Fortune Hotel (http://fortunehotels.in/) this weekend. It is a new 3-star hotel and The Park is 5-star. Who determines these categories? What exactly is the criterion? I liked what I saw at Fortune even if it is not 5-star. It is clean and modern, and there’s a bathtub too. The Park only has a shower probably because traditionally Indians prefer to clean themselves with running water as opposed to sitting in still water. The hotel is next to the 2 malls I visited previously and one of the malls has a grocery store that I can visit for food and other items. I now have the option to eat at the hotel or eat out in one of the nearby restaurants. A flea market is in walking distance. The hotel is also near Sarika and other people I know, so I won’t be in the middle of nowhere with no one close to me.
