India Update, March 06, 2010

This past week I had the pleasure to finally meet my friend, Hari Khurana. I first got to know him through email. Before I came to India I made it a point to communicate with a contact living in India who I found in the Quaker or Bahai directory. Hari was most kind in replying back to me and communicating back and forth since November. Hari came to the ashram on Monday, March 1, around tea time (aka tiffen) Through his acquaintance I have been able to see much more of New Delhi. He has been most kind to host me Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday.

With his aid I had the experience of going to the New Delhi Railway Station for a second time and purchasing a timetable for myself. That was a very different and difficult assignment. The day we went it was so crowded. It was just swarming with people. Every window had lines and maybe 50 if not more people were in each. People do not just stand and wait patiently until their turn. What is behind that, I do not know but it is the way it’s done here. People are pushing forward even though you can’t go any further as the window is keeping the throngs from going any further. At the window the person being served is accosted with hands coming from behind holding out their money and trying to be sure that they are the next to be served. Hari instructed me to just go on up to the front of a line and have my money out for the cost of a timetable and just make my voice heard by the person at the counter. I did this at two lines and was told I was at the wrong line. Hari said I was not pushy enough so he took my money from me and went to the third line to accomplish the task for me and was also told it was the wrong line. The fourth line I tried again as it had a “for ladies” sign on it. Here again, I just pushed my way through everyone in the line and went right up to the ticket window and pushed my hand to where the clerk could see my money and raised my voice saying “timetable” and got it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That was exhausting! I felt I had run a marathon! lol When I got back to Hari, I gave him a victory hug forgetting that in public men and women do not touch each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One of the lines I went up to the front at, the ticket person was even arguing with the people waiting to be served, so much in a confrontation that this person was even swatting the people with what looked to be a ribbon cartridge! I laugh as I recall this but I was quite taken aback at this type of treatment as I watched it.

Across the street from the station is the seediest part of New Delhi. It is called Pahargan. Here it is known as a place for backpackers to find their accommodations; rooms for maybe Rs 200 a night but with the minimalist accommodations and cleanliness. Markets sell whatever is known to humans to accommodate travelers and anyone else that comes into the area. I had my first fried food here. It was very tasty but as I hadn’t had fried food since I’ve been in India my stomach needed the restroom the next day quite a number of times to rid myself of that fat intake. Here drugs are offered, as well as prostitution and who knows what else? After that ordeal at the station I felt I deserved a beer. This place is also known for its availability of alcohol and some real kickers if you’ve a mind for those. The beer comes in bottles of, I think, 32 oz. Hari and I shared a bottle, not a bottle each. Anyhow, the area was hot, polluted, congested and I hadn’t had a beer since America so I was indeed looking forward to wetting my lips with that. The bars can be said to be somewhat in the seedy ambience, I think. Hari and I were sitting there and a young Indian man who was quite under the influence of, I don’t know, came up to Hari and start asking him about whether we had a child together, about Hari being with a white woman and some other interracial inquiries as to our relationship. That was the first and only time since I’ve been here that my whiteness has been discussed to my knowledge. I was surprised that a young Indian man would feel this issue in that way that he would ask those type of questions.

Hari has shown me more streets in New Delhi through the choices he has directed the auto rickshaw drivers to take as well as the buses we have gone on. There are quite a few areas that are very rich, well maintained, great parks. There was one area that even reminded me of residential areas such as Beverly Hills, West Los Angeles. He said that the real estate in an area we went through is even more expensive than in Manhattan.

We went to a place called the “Coffee Home” where they sell real filtered coffee for only Rs 10. It is run by the government as a place where the people can come, sit, talk, relax, have coffee, tea, a bit to eat. Because it is subsidized by the government, the costs are quite low – about 25 cents for a cup of coffee. The coffee was quite good and was made with milk.

Hari is a follower of Sai Baba (as well as calling himself a Quaker) and there is a Sai Baba Temple here that we went to. After the temple we had tea at a nearby tea peddlers cart with some sort of biscuit. I saw my first man dressed as a woman here. In fact this person sat next to Hari in hopes that Hari might purchase some tea for him as just before two old women had been treated to tea by Hari as his offering to God task.

He took me to Janpath Market, Connaught Place and a place called the Central Cottage Industries Emporium on Janpath Way. At this Emporium everything is priced at fair trade and what it is being sold is actually what it is so I felt quite comfortable and secure in purchasing some silver earrings there. I got six pair for about $50. I believe there might be a pair in there for my daughter, sister, her partner and who knows who else. I’m wearing a pair now.

We have gone to a tourist office, Dilla Hat Market, a train ticket office and some other miscellaneous places this past week. I have gone to his home and he has been quite a good host. His bathroom facilities and kitchen are different from my home. He has two western toilets and none on the floor. The room is not called a bathroom but the toilet. In one room, in addition to the toilet is the shower amenities. The sink is in the hallway just outside the toilet room. The sink has three faucets – two with water coming from a tank on top of the building and one coming from a fresh water source. The apartment has been in his family since the 80s. His parents, his two sisters and himself have all lived in it at one time. It seems small for so many to be living in but then again , here again, go my American perceptions. He now lives in it by himself and he speaks of his place as a great source of comfort to him and to his friends. The apartment is in a huge complex; I do not know how many units are there but I would venture to say maybe 500, if not more. I wouldn’t be surprised. From his apartment on the second floor he has a balcony that looks out into a center park area for the complex residents that looks quite inviting. His balcony has plants and I would add chairs if I were to live there; it would be nice to sit outside enjoying the fresh air and watching below to the center park and even going down to the park and sitting there.

I got my first massage last night and it was quite refreshing and stimulating. Hari gave me an Indian head massage. The technique was quite new to me. He did it to my head, forehead, eyes, face and neck. It was very tension reducing! I would love to be able to get massages often as I know they are good for circulating one’s blood and reducing muscle tightness but it is so expensive. I do not know what is in Hari’s mind as he massages this “fattie” (as he has described me) woman but it aids me so I will not concern myself with what is in his mind.

He has been kind enough to go on a trip with me that will enable me to enjoy the opportunity of traveling by bus as well as train. This past week our adventures included purchasing the means for this itinerary. A foreigner’s opportunity occurred because the ticket we got for the train has us on a waiting list. To avoid having to be on this list Hari had us go to the Railway Station itself to their Foreign Ticketing Office in the hope that if there was a foreign quota for this trip that had not been filled, I could get a seat in that quota grouping but alas, even that was full. As to us being on a waiting list, Hari tells me what will probably happen if we are still on a waiting list when the train is about to depart, we simply pay the conductor (what you call him, I don’t know) on the train a bribe and we get a seat that is not part of what they sell.

We are going up to Himachal Pradesh. We will be visiting Mcleodganj, the Buddhist capital of the world, where the Dalai Lama lives, Dharamashala and Chandigarh ( a modern city laid out in blocks as in our western world). He has told me that is cold up there and I hope that I have what I need to keep me warm or that I will be able to purchase something ethnic and not expensive that will take care of this.

We will leave New Delhi tomorrow evening and arrive at our first stop Mcleodganj on Monday morning about 7 am. We are agreed that when we arrive, we will leave our things in our rooms and then go walk somewhere and meditate as our first event there.

Now, I must go. I am going to a market called Malviya Nagar that is near here where I am told they have more of the everyday items than in the stores next to the ashram. It is almost 4 pm and I had planned to be leaving for there by 3 pm but I had the “I Miss” to write and this one before I was to depart.

Will probably not write again until after the 14^th.

Take care.