India, the experience

When I landed in India, I was expecting a fun, exciting and exotic adventure. I thought I would fall in love the places I visit, as I usually do when travelling, but that’s not exactly what happened. We had some great adventures, but we also we had some awful moments where I just wanted to go home.

I definitely did not fall in love with India... I’m not even sure if I like it.

I don’t like how dirty it is.
I don’t like the never-ceasing obnoxious honking.
I don’t like eating daal and chapati at every meal.
I don’t like bargaining everytime I want to make a purchase.
I don’t like being offered the foreigner’s price for everything, and still feelign ripped off after negotiating a price down.
I don’t like having to forcefully disengage myself fom people selling things I don’t want to buy.
I don’t like how I avoid eye contact and ignore the people trying to sell me things I don’t want to buy.
I don’t like how ingenuine some people appear to be.
I don’t like how there are random moments that completely just ruin the day, like being pelted by water balloons or being kicked in the face by kids on the train because their inconsiderate parents allowed them to climbing up and down beds.
I don’t like how children and the elderly and the handicap approach and beg for money.
I don’t like how the more appropriate thing to do is ignore the begging.
I don’t like how I do not know how to to deal with it [poverty].

But then there were moments of such beauty. like sleeping beneath a blanket of million stars out in the rajasthan desert; or seeing the morning light illuminate the taj mahal; or watching children play cricket in the park; or having a father proudly show us photographs of his daughter’s wedding.

It is difficult for me to sum up the impression the country left on me... My entire being was jostled by India; there is no clear unequivocal word to truly capture the experience.

- Emily

ticket to ride, india's version

Travelling by train in India was an overwhelming and exhausting experience, but I guess it provided a memorable and interesting (at best) glimpse of “real” India; Indian Railway is one of the biggest employers in the world, serving over 25 million of people on a daily basis, and covering a network of over 64000 km across the nation. It is said that over 6 billion people ride the Indian railways annually. On a typical passenger train, there are 18 to 26 coaches; each coach can hold up to 100 people. Imagine the chaos that can ensue when so many people are involved.

one thing we read about train travel in India is that it is always overbooked and the process of getting tickets is arduous. since we had planned our itinerary at home and our schedule was more or less concrete, we booked our all our train tickets electronically a month before; even then, we were on the waiting lists for the coach class we wanted on some trips. booking tickets online was so was easy; there was a slight booking fee but the convenience and peace of mind was well worth it.

We planned to travel four overnight journeys to save some money on accommodations and to make the best of our waking hours. However, we decided to splurge on the class of coach and booked air conditioned second class sleepers. There are two types of A/C second class sleepers: AC2 where seats are grouped into semi-private sections of for seats with two upper and two lower berths facing each other; AC3 has six seats with upper, middle and lower berths. There are non a/c coaches as well as non-sleeper ones; I was not brave enough to experience either.

Our first train experience occurred on our second day india. it was an 18 hour journey from delhi to jaisalmer. We arrived at the train station an hour and a half before scheduled departure; we arrived so early to ensure that we were to be at the right place at the right time (we had an unfortunate train experience when we were in italy last year where we missed our schedule departure due to a mistake in the platform numbering—there was lots of running with our heavy backpacks, something we wanted to avoid in india).

Perhaps we’re destined for unfortunate train experiences. Even though arriving so early, we had no idea where to wait on our platform for our coach. “normal ac 2 and 3 are at the front of the back of the train” we were told by a friendly indian man “I am in an AC sleeper class too so you can wait with me.” We waited with him but when the train arrived, we could not find our coach. Turns out we were standing at the front and our coach was at the back... of a very long train. We had to run the length of the train with our heavy backpacks to get our coach. It was not a fun run.

We never got hang of where to stand to wait for our coach. Eventually we would just wait in the middle of the platform; but half the length of an 18 to 26 coach train is still a long distance, especially with luggage, fighting through crowds of people getting on and off the train, and with a two-minute window to get on the train.

We four train rides in total. Three of which where in AC2, one in AC3. Even in the relatively more comfortable coaches, I could not sleep for more than an hour at a time. sheets, blankets and pillows provided for each berth in the a/c sleeper classes. The sheets are renewed each train ride, coming in a paper bag with the claim that it has been mechanically washed. The pillow and blanket are used again and again; I have no idea when the last time they were cleaned and they smelled. Being little bit of a germaphobe, I was not comfortable with using the pillows or blankets and slept in a mummy position wearing my down jacket to stay warm and using my small backpack to support my head. I must have looked like the most uppity foreigner ever, but i just couldn’t bring myself to curl up in the blankets like everyone else on the coach.

We met people, indians and foreigners alike, who rather enjoyed travelling by train. But we, especially me, hated it... because of the cockroaches and rats running around the floor of the coach; because i am not coordinated enough to squat pee on a moving vehicle and would end up peeing on my shoe more than in the toilet (asian squat kind) hole (and for some reason, i would have to pee 3 times a night on the trains); because people would be listening to music or movies from their phones or computer at the wee hours of the night without headphones; because at every stop, there would be people going on and off the train, in and out of the compartments, trying to find their berth; because the ticket checker would wake us up at the most obscure hour to check tickets for the nth time; because the train is like a moving bazaar and whenever it reached a station, the vendors swarm the coaches, shouting out their fare for sale, because at 6 in the morning, tea vendors would start going up and down the aisles yelling “chai, chai”. I just hated being on the trains; i am not adventurous or down-to-earth enough.

I vowed never ever to do another overnight trip by train in india...that is, unless it was on the golden chariot, a luxury train which consists of private sleeping cabins with actual beds covered in silk sheets.

Indian eats

A typical northern indian meal consists of at least the three following things: daal, a watery lentil curry; potatoes, cooked with a bunch of spices; and chapati, a pita-bread like roti. To be completely honest, we weren’t too keen on any of the three. The potatos were hit and mi.ss; sometimes we really liked the way it was cooked and sometimes we didn’t. Chapati got old real quick; we prefer other carbs, like rice and pastacraved noodles and pasta. We just didn’t like the daal; we’re not lentil eating people.

Lots of restaurants offer thali, which is an entire meal for an awesome value. Usually for less than a 100 rupees ($2 CAD), you’d get a plate of rice and piece of chapati accompanied by daal, a vegetable curry, and vegetable or potato of some sort... enough food for small family.

What we really enjoyed were the paneer curries. Paneer is a cheese popular in indian cooking and is usually a source of protein for vegetarian indians (it reminds me of firm tofu in taste and texture). Our favourites were palak paneer (paneer in spinach curry) and paneer masala (paneer in a tomato curry). We liked it better with rice than with chapati.

Lassis, a yogurt based drink, were always welcomed. In Canada, mango lassis are served at most indian restaurants and consist of sweetened mango pulp and mixed with yogurt or cream—more like a mango shake. In India, the lassis are usually taken either savoury or sweet. Savoury lassis are mixed with salt and spices; sweet lassis are simply sweetened with sugar or honey. They kinda taste like yop, but minus the fruity flavour. we had a lot of lassis, under the impression that the bacteria in the yogurt is good for digestion. can't say it worked for us, but lassis sure are yummy.

Street food was nice in moderation. Most street food or snack food, also known as chaat, were deep fried, which we could only eat so much of. There were samosas, of course, always with a delicious chutney. There was aloo ghobi, roasted potatoes covered with spices. There were a whole bunch of pastry things, filled with what seemed like aloo ghobi. There was pakora, deep fried potato fritters. We also ate chaat where we have no idea what was in it: nuts, yogurt, pomegranate seeds, chutney, potatos—I think.

By our second week in India we were craving chinese food like we’ve never craved it before. We found an advertisement for korean shin ramyun instant noodles at some hotel restaurant and, of course, we enquired about it. The hotel restaurant had packets of the noodles but didn’t know how to cook it. So we bought a few packs, for lot a more than what we would pay in Canada, went back to our guesthouse, and made instant noodles for lunch. That was a very satisfying meal.

Having indian food is always a treat when we’re in Toronto. When we were in london for our honeymoon, we had chicken tikka masala for dinner 4 out of the 7 nights we were there. But in india, it was a slightly different song. We were pretty much suck of curry by day 5... don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t that the food wasn’t good. There’s just something called too much curry for us. We found it a little too rich and heavy for every single meal; the amount of butter and oil in curries didn’t sit well in our stomachs (plus, daniel got a bad bout of delhi belly, otherwise known as diarrhea, which made him hesitant to eat). We started visiting a lot of those "German bakeries" that cater to the tourist longing for some western food.

- emily

holy Holi!

We headed to Mathura after Agra to celebrate the Hindu festival of Holi. Holi is also known as the festival of colours where people “play colours”. It is a festival to celebrate the coming of spring and is associated with lord krishna.

Mathura is said to be the Holi central of the world, being the birthplace of lord krishna. What better place to celebrate holi than in mathura?
 The morning of holi, we dressed ourselves in newly bought clothes with the intention of throwing them out after we “play colours”. the moment we stepped out of our hotel driveway, a group motorcyclists stopped to spray a pink foam at us. “Happy holi”, they grinned at us. We laughed and responded with a “happy holi” in return.

The Holi attacks grew progressively worse. At first children would chase after our tuk tuk and throw coloured powder at us as we passed by. Then children started surrounding the tuk tuk, forcing it stop, and smeared us with colour. Then came the water guns along with colour throwing and smearing. When we reached the temple, we had buckets of coloured water thrown at us from rooftops. “Happy Holi!” we exclaimed good humorously.

We were soon drenched from head to toe. Still, it was “happy holi”.

Then Daniel got his shirt torn off. Still, “happy holi”.

Then men started to come at me to grab me. Most of times it was the arm and the thigh, sometimes it was boob. It was hard fighting then off because by then my glasses were covered in colour and I couldn’t see out of them. Plus, I was using my arms to guard my boobs. Eventually I had it. Being groped is not in the spirit of “happy holi”. “I’m done” I told Daniel “We’re going back to the hotel.”

That was less than two hours of celebrating Holi.

It took us over two hours to clean ourselves off.

But no matter how much I scrubbed, my toes remained blue for another two weeks. Daniel’s glasses are still tinged with pink.

Holi was the grand finale of our time in India (oh, what an experience it was). We left for Nepal the day after.

- emily

Can't Taj This

Our destinations revolved mainly around experiencing select wonders of the world. The first of the monumental sights was none other than the venerable Taj Mahal.

As an appetizer, our first taste of the Taj was a sunset view from a nondescript patch of land on the banks of the Yamuna. From a distance, the Taj looked almost as if it belonged atop a fancy cake; only when you approach do you begin to grasp the size and scale to which it was built.

Built in the memory of his third wife, Mumtaz Mahal, Mughal emperor Shah Jahan Mughal spared no expense in the construction of the “crown of buildings.” Materials from all over Asia were used in its construction, with 1000 elephants used to bring them to Agra. In addition to supplies from India, precious stones were imported from abroad including jade and crystal from China, turquoise from Tibet, and Lapis Lazuli from Afghanistan...

...but rather than paraphrasing snippets of Wikipedia; we woke up at the crack of dawn and made ready for sunrise. Now sunrise at the Taj Mahal is somewhat of a sideshow. Guidebooks and the like promise a quieter scene with a minimal crowd. Yet, the number of those who voluntarily elect themselves to wake up at 5 AM will never ceases to amaze. We fully expected a glowing orange ball to rise over the the horizon to create the picture perfect postcard but it turns out that the Taj is oriented north to south; the sun is nowhere in sight.

It does, however, set the stage for quite the light show. As the shadows slowly disappeared and the hues of marble transformed from pink to its iconic white, the Taj Mahal strut out on to the runway ready for another busy day of incessant paparazzi.

- daniel

agra, example of mughal grandeur

after a few days in varanasi, we boarded yet another overnight train and headed to agra. we were exhausted at this point. all the overnight trains were becoming a real toll and we spent most of our first day in agra napping at our guesthouse. we went out after the sun had set and the temperatures were much cooler, for a walk around the city’s main and unmemorable market and dinner.

feeling a bit refreshed the day after, we went out for some sightseeing.

our first stop was the agra fort. like the one we had seen in delhi, the agra fort was built out of red sandstone, and is known to be the “red fort” of agra. red fort of agra predates the red fort in delhi, founded in 1565 by the emperor akbar (grandfather of shah jahan).

I loved the interesting blend of hindu and islamic influences on the fort's architecture and decoration. many of the buildings had filigree carvings out of its sandstone and star-shapped and geometric patterns decorated on the walls and floors. it seemed very “indian” to me; I’ve always associated lattice work with india.

emperor shah jahan, who built the taj mahal and the red fort in delhi, was imprisoned by his son in agra fort, from which he had a view of the building he erected for his deceased wife. we caught our first glimpses of the taj mahal from the agra fort.

after exploring the fort, we explored the city on a rickshaw. daniel traded spots with his driver, a seventy-four year old man with no teeth left in his mouth, and experienced what it was like to ride around town. we visited souvenir shop after souvenir shop. picked up some fabric and yet another pashmina before heading back to the guesthouse for a nap. while in varanasi, we discovered that indian cities need to be experienced in small amounts, otherwise it becomes overwhelming and tiring; thus in agra, we took lots of naps between going out.

in the late afternoon we visited i’timad-ud-daulah’s tomb, often called the “baby taj”. it was a beautiful mausleoum of white marble encrusted with semi-precious gemstones arranged in floral patterns. I became very excited for the taj mahal, which we went to see soon after...

holy city of varanasi

after delhi, we took another overnight train... this time to varanasi.

situated on the banked of the river Ganges, varanasi is considered to be one of the oldest cities in the world as well as the holiest to many hindus. according to the hindu mythology, the city was founded some 5000 years ago by the hindu deity lord shiva. it is one of the seven pilgrimage sites in hinduim, and over one million pilgrims visit the city on a yearly basis.

we thought a visit to varanasi would provide some insight to hinduism and a glimpse of life on river Ganges.

"The Ganges, above all is the river of India, which has held India's heart captive and drawn uncounted millions to her banks since the dawn of history. The story of the Ganges, from her source to the sea, from old times to new, is the story of India's civilization and culture, of the rise and fall of empires, of great and proud cities, of adventures of man…"

- jawaharlal nehru

varanasi is known for its ghats, areas with a series of steps leading down to the Ganges. there are over 100 ghats in varanasi, each with specific purpose and significance; some ghats are for bathing, some are for crematory reasons. every hour of the day, the ghats are abuzz with activity. we liked to stroll along the river to observe the day to day rituals.

hindus believe who dies in the sacred city of varanasi will release a person’s soul from the cycle of life and enlightenment can be attained. seeing bodies at the cremation ghats, all wrapped in white cloth and draped with bright orange garlands of flowers, being prepared for their ashes to spread on the ganges, made me really uncomfortable. I felt like I was intruding on something very personal. and because of my own beliefs of what comes after death, I felt very heavy-hearted for every person who has and will come to varanasi to die.

one morning, we boarded a boat before dawn and rowed out onto the ganges. it was so early, the city was blur of grey and haze, but even at such early hours, the ghats were a hive of activity. there were women washing their vivid saris in the sacred waters, men gathered at stepping off the steps for the ritual bathing, fires burning at the cremation at the ghats, people praying and setting floral and smoke offerings afloat... hindus believe that bathing in the ganges provides salvation from their sins. All throughout the day, there are people clothed, almost naked, fully naked, standing in the river.

varanasi is also called the city of lights, especially apparent at nights. the ganges, though no longer lit by the sun, is continually a lit by floating pinpricks of light from little candle offerings. we took another boat out at dusk to watch the evening rituals. there were many different ceremonies happening along the banks. some ghats were completely lit up by rows and rows of candles.

the varanasi ghats is a fascinating place to people-watch, not only because of the spiritual aspect, but because at the exact same place and time where people were practicing time-honored religious traditions, others were conducting business, selling tourist souvenirs or boat rides. within steps of one another, there would people praying in sanskrit and people trying to lure you into their uncle’s silk shop; there were such sharp contrasts of difference in activities.

we stayed in varanasi for a couple of days and never ventured into the actual city, staying along the ganges and ghats to witness life that transpired there.

shopping in delhi

Delhi has a treasure trove of markets to discover and explore. Each one has its own personality, but definetly all experiences for the senses;  senses are bombared with smells of potatoes cooking on the side of the street, sights of lovely textiles, and sounds of vendors trying to lure you into their shops

While vibrant and exotic, the markets are also most tiresome. I tried to avoid having my gaze linger on something for too long, but it was no use; vendors are relentless and agressive; bargaining—no, haggling—is part of the culture. I, used to the westernized way of shopping where you pay what is listed, found shopping to be rather intimidating, and left it to daniel to play at negotiating for prices. If left to my own, I would pay what the vendors asks for; I mean, 90 rupees ($1.50 CAD) for a cotton scarf, isn’t asking too much.

The most frequented market was Paharganj, as our hostel was located right in the market. Heading in or our of the hostel, we’d be greeted with “where your from?”, “come in an take a look? Look is free”, and “lady, item X only for Y rupees”. Paharganj is filled with shops selling “hippie clothing”, like those baggy ali-baba pants, that every foreigner wore but no indian would be caught dead in. Daniel bought a pair of ali-baba pants and I purchased a pair of blue scrub-like ones which I’d never wear back in toronto, but needed in india because my pair of skinny denims where stifling in the indian heat. A favourite store of mine was one that just sold bangles. Bangles, bangles, bangles everywhere. I bought some for my sister.

The Janpath market was how I pictured an “indian” market to be. There were women in sarees selling an abundant of beatiful textiles, all bold and bright and glittery with embroidery and sequins, on the side of the street. I wanted almost everything there, from the cushion covers to the fabric trims to the silk dresses, but we visited this market early in our trip and I wanted to scope out other places first. I do regret not buying some trims because I didn’t see any as pretty anywhere else in india.

Our favourite market was Lajpat Nagar, one of india’s oldest markets which caters to the indian population and not foreigners. Shopkeepers more or less kept to themselves; they’d let me look at their goods without questions and did not try to sell me goods I did not want. It’s also a pedestrian market so shopping could be done jumping aside to avoid being killed by rickshaw/taxi/cow; it made shopping less stressful. 

The most chaotic shopping experience of all was in the shopping district of Chandni Chowk in Old Delhi. The area is divided into bazaars specialising in a particular good. There are alleyways dedicated to just wedding invitations, store after store selling the same thing. Exploring its winding narrow alleyways is a huge adventure, and there was no way which bazaar we would end up. At one point, I wanted to go to the spice market. After getting really lost in the alleyways, we ended up on a main road and decided to hire a rickshaw. We passed a cookingware bazaar, a nuts and bolts bazaar, a food bazaar— just to name a few—before reaching the spice bazaar, Khari Boali (I thought it was “curry bowly”) an hour later (traffic in Chandni Chowk is horrible!). I have tendency to wander into the most crowded places to appease my curiousity, and while in Khari Boali, this lead me to the center of where spices were being traded. The small area was jammed with people and cows and trolleys carrying sacks of spices. The air was literally filled with cumin and aniseed and chilli powder; it was hard to hard to breathe. But I found some fresh vanilla pods for very little money to bring home to my brother, and that made me happy (Daniel:) Going through another narrow crowded laneway, I found, much to my delight, a fabric bazaar!! I picked up some cotton/silk blend fabric for, like, a dollar a meter.

We probably left delhi with a little too many souvenirs, but it was so hard to resist make purchases because everything was so cheap in comparison to canadian prices!!

- emily