Last Stop, Delhi, the City of Many Impressions

Before beginning this last post, I want to apologize for the blurriness of so many of the photos. I hope your eyes did not go all squinchy as my camera does little justice to indoor and nighttime pictures. I know I need a better piece of equipment before embarking on the next journey. Thanks for your patience.

I'm back home now, but wanted to end my blog with impressions of Delhi, the last stop on the "londoninindia" train. Many tourists and locals I'd met along the way reported that Delhi was a place to be avoided.

I was there for three days and enjoyed the energy of the people. The neighborhood where my guest house was located is a small poverty stricken area called Puhad Ganj. Again, the sense of family and community was apparent in the local culture. However, there were so many Westerners there, that it resembled any town in the States!



As you can see, the streets in Puhad Ganj are shared by pedestrians, motorbikes, wagons, taxis, etc. This photo, taken outside of my guest house shows how busy the streets are even late at night. I was amazed at how late Indians stay awake at night and how early they wake up in the morning. Perhaps they don't need as much sleep as I do, but maybe the intense heat at this time of year (no A/C) makes everyone start their day in the earlier and cooler hours of the morning.

I arrived in Delhi via the train from Haridwar. August 14 is Krishna's birthday, so the town was getting ready for the celebration with lots of food, decorating of temples and fancy clothing for the Hindus and their gods.

Dhabas and food wagons were readying themselves for the crowds that would pile into and out of temples after night time puja ceremonies. These cooks are stocking up on chapatis outside of the restaurant where they work.



Temples were decorated with long garlands of marigolds and other colorful flowers to honor Krishna's birth. This storefront temple, where a very knowledgeable Indian lad taught me about the different stages in Krishna's life, was adorned with flowers well dressed statuary.





Krishna statues were displayed on the altar to represent the important stages of his life. Here he is shown as a baby swathed in a brocade dress, blankets and a crown. He lays in a cradle that stands on a table. A ribbon tied to the cradle allows devotees to rock him back and forth gently after saying their prayers. Hindus treat statues of their gods as if they are real, often dressing them for the day, undressing them at night and putting them to bed as we would a member of the family.



Here's Krishna as a teenager. Notice the monkey god, Hanuman, at the bottom left. Krishna is the hero of the Hindu's most important teaching text, the Bhagavad Gita, which instructs people about how to live a virtuous life. Hanuman is India's great monkey god and fights against evil forces. He is the god of acrobatics (!) and an author of Sanskrit (Hindu written language) grammar. Monkeys are adored all over India and are as respected in their climbing on roofs and treetops as cows are in their roaming of the streets and roads.



Cows; how I love the cows! They roam the streets, steps and hillsides. This curious fellow (or gal) was hoping for a little "puja" time in the storefront temple. No one seemed to mind that "Bessie" had stepped almost all the way into the temple and simply gave her room to stare and stand until she realized that her best option was to slowly back out of this narrow space!



August 15 is India's Independence Day. In 1947, India received independence from Britain. People celebrate with fireworks at night and kite flying during the day. People of all ages fly kites and try to cut each others' kites down with glass-coated strings (think; The Kite Runner). The last kite flying is something akin to the winner. This young lad was only one of several who proudly climbed fences, walls and buildings to retrieve kites cut down by the local boys and men.



Independence Day was hot, sticky and noisy (What else is new?). I found the RamaKrishna temple not far from my guest house and spent a few hours there in the quiet, fan-cooled and clean temple contemplating RamaKrishna. After meditating on his gentle face for a while, I thought he looked a lot like my Uncle Artie! I found four kites myself while exploring the temple grounds. I'll use some of them to decorate my classroom this year!

Crowds of people were out on the streets all day and night on Independence Day. Camel and horseback rides were offered in the evening. Pushkar, a small city southeast of Delhi, is one of the most popular places to see camels in this part of the country. I didn't make it there but hope to upon my return someday.



This woman wandered around the town hoping for money or food. I'd seen her almost daily but she never approached me. On my last day in Puhad Ganj, I met her early in the morning. Rather than give money, I offered to buy breakfast for her from the local "omlette" wagon.

For Rs15/- (that's about 20 cents), I ordered her a fried egg sandwich made from two eggs and two very western looking slices of white bread (those Indians do have our "toast" down pat). The meal included a cup of chai which she turned down. She carried her own bowl for offerings and the egg wagon man gently slid her sandwich into it. The piece of wood you see on the left was her cane and she carried her belongings in several plastic bags hanging from her arm. She spent much time scratching her head (what crawls there??), but looked like a real sweetheart. She thanked me over and over again. When I saw her later in the day, her bowl was emptied of the breakfast sandwich. I was glad I was able to offer some solace to her otherwise sad existence.



Here's a closeup of her face. Doesn't she look like she might have been somebody's grandma in another life?



The next photos are all about transportation and jobs. As said, many men work as porters, carrying supplies and equipment for others. Here are some unique ways that goods get carried from place to place without using much fuel.





I spent my last day in Delhi visiting the Red Fort. This was built by the Mughuls as a palace for the king at the time. As time and history unfolded, it was taken over by the Indians, then the British and finally again by the Indians after independence. The Fort's made of red sandstone and is a magnificent structure. I was impressed by the architecture of such a grand place. The arches, roof lines and columns are very artistically designed and a pleasant sight in the midst of a very crowded and commercial city.





And so, the journey ends for now. I hope to return to India someday, with a lot more knowledge about how to travel in this strange and beautiful country. From the cities to the countryside...



...on foot and by wheel...



... I simply had an amazing time and would do it again in a flash! Thanks for supporting my blog by reading entries and viewing the photos. Knowing you were out there, keeping up with my travels, made me a little less lonely from time to time. Namaste!

"Homeward Bound"

"I'm sitting in the railway station, headed for my destination...." is the proper name of this post...

Once again, finding myself in the Haridwar train station, waiting for another late train to take me to Delhi, I am watching life unfold around me. India has a life of its own and it's beyond me to figure it out. Maybe that's the idea of visiting this strange and somehow wonderful land. Amidst the garbage, poo, wandering domestic animals who've taken on a more feral lifestyle and pollution is an underlying breath of fresh air. Talk to almost any Indian in a shop, taxi, on the street. The stiff upper lip gives way to a broad smile and friendly chat.

I'm both flummoxed and confused and I think it will take a long time to define my feelings and perceptions of this mysterious land and it's people. There'll be stories to tell for a long time, I'm sure.

People from all over India travel by rail. It's cheap but tiresome, and the experience allows people to meet people. Strangers who begin the journey together end up sharing newspapers, gossip and snacks along the way. Seat switching is common, too, as the window seatee notices the person next to them is looking ill from lack of fresh air and out of compassion or worry, offers to change seats.

These similarly dressed women are from Rajahstan. My only connection with them at the station was when one, after finishing a cup of chai, came up to me for "moneee, pleeze."



Red-coated porters, like ladybugs in summer, are everywhere. As you enter
the station, they are at your side, asking to carry luggage, etc. They have, apparently, very strong brains and skulls. I'm amazed at what Indians can carry above their shoulders. Perhaps it's from years of living with struggle and strife.



There are many fewer benches than people, so sitting on the platform is not unusual, as is sleeping on the platform. I do think many people use the train station as their homes. Sleeping, begging and using the rails or parked train cars as their toilets, it is the "perfect" home for those who have none.




Although this is so dark, perhaps you can see the mad rush that occurs when the train is loading. People do NOT know how to queue up (sp?) and it's generally a free for all.



Again, sorry for the dark image. This is an example of one couple's home on the station. As each train's worth of passengers gather, the woman (a woman's work is NEVER done!) sidles up to (usually foreign)passengers with her cup, looking for "moneeeee, pleeze." I offered a cookie from my package as I'd run out of change from giving it to the men who travel on scooter boards and other homeless creatures. She seemed a bit miffed, but begrudgingly held out her cup for me to drop in my pittance.



The actual ride to Delhi was lovely for most of the way. We passed fields and fields of sugar cane (shown below) and rice. The sugar cane is tied in bundles as it matures to keep it from flopping over and to make it easier to cut upon harvesting.



Here's what we're breathing along the way. This is the diesel smoke that comes from the locomotive. You can also catch this lovely view (and smell) while walking along the roads as it spews from buses and trucks. Healthy, eh? Indian women have taught me to carry a hankie everywhere to use as a mask for covering one's nose when in the general proximity of "bad smells."




Many families live in houses like these. They are constructed from plastic tarps, branches, garbage and other sturdy materials to keep out the rain and little else. They are built right on the ground so it's like camping all year round, except there's no blankets or pillows. Indians are very good at using their arms as pillows!

The saddest part of this is that these houses stand side by side with the high price hotels and big corporate buildings in Delhi. I asked my taxi driver if seeing this bothered him. He shrugged and replied that it did not. I think people either become immune to such disparities (sp?) or have lived with them for so long that they don't even notice them.



Time for a bath! The water comes from the mountains (or somewhere) and is piped into the cities. The problem (yet another) is that even in the mountains, due to the litter and refuse and detergents used for washing clothes, even this water is contaminated. However, it does wash away the sweat and serves to cool one down, if even for an hour.




Coming into Delhi, one gets to see the Yamuna River. It seems to be the "sigh of relief" point for weary travelers. Once it's spotted, people wake up and start getting their bags off the overhead racks, ready to leave the train in the same haphazard way they got on.





I will leave you with this last photo and the story behind it. There'd been an announcement about a platform train for an incoming train. Passengers are provided with a very efficient system of ramps and bridges to cross from one platform to another. However, in this photo, you can see the preferred method of changing platforms. Passengers, along with their bags, children, grandparents, etc., rush to the edge of the platform, jump onto the tracks and walk across the rails to the next platform! It's a strange land, indeed!

Anand Prakesh Ashram, Rishikesh

The Beatles sought out Rishikesh in the 60's to spend time with their yogi. I'm forty years late but figured it might be worth checking out this part of the country as well. Rishikesh itself is dirty, polluted and noisy, but there's a couple of towns outside of the city where life is more serene.

I headed up the mountain on a shared autorickshaw to Laxman Jhula, a small village along the River Ganges. Pleasantly surprised to find it looking a lot like McLeod Ganj with mountains, trees, etc, I settled in at an ashram for a few days of yoga, meditation and peace and quiet, something I've been long needing after the overexposure to dirt, dust, people, noise and bad smells.



A main road in Laxman Jhula where cars, buses, trucks and motorbikes zoom by all day long.

The ashram is a quiet and clean environment where yoga is practice twice and day (6:00 - 7:45 a.m. and 4:00 - 5:45 p.m.) and meditation is included in this daily ritural. The yoga here is based on breath and many similar postures to what I've already practiced, so I felt pretty much at home in either the basement or rooftop yoga rooms equipped with fans, music and sound bowls (brass bowls that are rubbed around their edges with pestle-like hammers to produce a ringing vibration).

Everyone eats together in the dining hall. We are given our own set of dishes when we arrive and are expected to bring them to meals. The food is healthy and the portions are huge. Seconds are always offered.



Rice, chapatis, beans of one sort or another and vegetables are always on the lunch and dinner menus.



Everyone waits until all are served by the kitchen staff before digging into the meal. Also, we pray together in a chanting voice before meals. The prayer is painted on the walls for beginners like me who don't know the words to this Hindu prayer for thanks.





After dinner, we're expected to wash our dishes at the communal sink. Dishes of soap and scrubbers are in the sink where we wash with cold water. Leftovers are saved in a pail for the cows that provide the milk for curd for some meals.




Two cows and one calf live outside of the ashram in this barn. They are some of the most well taken care of cows I've seen in India so far. The ashram is family owned and all take part in the care of the facility and its grounds.

I walk into town each day to check email and publish a post on the blog. This is a drain that is in the road that leads to the ashram. I'm glad I noticed it for the first time in the daytime. Apparently, there are no drain covers on the roads. Drivers have to skillfully steer around these open drains in order not to get a tire caught in one of the many found along the way.







This limeade stand is along the main road in Luxman Jhula (jhula means bridge). The three or four men who congregate here everyday do a lot of sleeping and not much selling, but I was taken by the lovely big water jug sitting on the ground. The dog in the photo doesn't belong to them (or anyone), but we invited him over for the picture. He was willing, probably hoping a food scrap was being offered for a reward!





I'll end with two photos of the River Ganges as seen from Laxman Jhula. The first, near the huge temple where streams of Hindus are constantly afoot across the bridge to visit the temple and pray is close to the town. One must walk down a series of steep and winding steps through many shops and stalls and beggars in order to get to the bridge.

The other is the more rural end of the river between Rishikesh and Laxamn Jhula. Here the wildness of the river is more apparent with huge rocks in the middle of this surprisingly wide waterway to make rafters' rides even more daring!

Alvida! (Goodbye, in Hindi!)

Haridwar, Another Holy City

There's apparently no end to the holy cities in India. Each one holds its own special meaning for the Hindu people. Haridwar, located where the River Ganges flows from the mountains into the plains is a special spot for the Hindus. Many come here for the evening puja (prayer ceremony) and spend the entire day at the river waiting for the sun to set.

The city itself (small compared to our cities) is in deplorable shape. There's garbage everywhere (what else is new in India, I've come to understand), countless flies hovering over the open food at the stalls, over the cow dung in the road and on the people.



A water fountain/public faucet in the middle of town. Check out the piping feeding water to the faucet.
Of course there's cows, but you've got to love the way they own the roads, causing cars, trucks and other vehicles to screech to a halt when they refuse to get out of the way. No one would dare to hit them as they represent Krishna who was their caretaker in another life.

There's also a new smell to this city, one I can't quite identify. It's not garbage or open sewers as I've smelled in other cities, but something deeper. It was not one of my favorite places, that's for sure.

Interestingly enough, my perception changed (as it has many times here in India) after the nighttime puja ceremony. The lights from the temple along the River Ganges, the flaming torches lit and made to swing above the river by the priests and the lighted flower baskets floating down the river all seemed to make the awful presentation of Haridwar disappear. It took on more the aura of a fairyland. It's been interesting to me how my senses can defy my reasoning within a very short time.



The crowd gathers at the river's edge on concrete islands between the river and the canal built to provide a place for calmer water where the prayer ceremonies can take place.



As the ceremony begins, several men in blue uniforms "work the crowd" for offerings. They are adorned with necklaces and bracelets to attract attention. Their yelling riles up the crowd as you can see by the raised arms. They carry pads and pens which allow people who give alms to get a receipt for their donation. I wonder if they can use it as a tax deduction??



People can buy these leaf boats along the streets of the town or on the concrete islands. When evening falls and the ceremony begins, a small wick in the center of the fresh rose, marigold, etc. flower petals is lit and the boat is set afloat in the river. It's delightful to see these small lights moving down at great speed along with the current.



Along the canal, men set up tables where further offerings can be made to the small shrines erected on site. The fires are lit only after the puja ceremony is over but Hindus will toss money on the tables throughout the evening.

Another interesting tidbit is that when the ceremony begins, everyone must be seated somewhere. Men sell sheets of plastic from candy companies (complete with logos) for people to sit on. The tabletop shrine owners will also allow people to sit on the table providing you pay at least Rs20/- for "rent" of the space.



The priests stand in front of the temple waving torches of fire above the river. It's a very awe-inspiring sight to see when night falls. The nightly ceremony depends upon the time of sunset each night.

As you can see, the lights upon the river make for a startling attraction. I was glad to have the opportunity to see Haridwar at night. Although I would not return, I was pleasantly surprised by it's hidden beauty.

Stepping Back to McLeod Ganj

Medical care in India is questionable. There are chemists on the streets in most towns where one can go and get medicine suggested by the chemist himself (never a woman) when you present your symptoms. I've done this for minor meds, like the electrolyte I'm presently drinking to alleviate the GI distress.

Most hospitals are below par. The buildings look run-down, there are no screens on the windows (surprising to me in this land of a billion flying insects) and the stories I've heard include lack of empathy, knowledge and a lax staff that is likely to overmedicate at times in order to protect themselves.

The Tibetan docs (in McL) are often overbooked. You have to get a number at the office at 9:00 a.m. and return at 11:00 and wait to be called. Their meds either work or don't. I'm not that adventurous.


However, one evening, while eating dinner with some friends, we heard the "caller," a car driven through town with someone making announcements thorugh a loudspeaker. The announcement was about a free med clinic being set up for two days in the temple for anyone needing med help. This seemed interesting enough and could be helpful for those Tibetans (of whom there are many) who don't have enough money to go to the docs.

The next day, while walking through the temple, I found the clinic. It had taken over the entire middle level of the temple with tables, chairs, volunteers and about 11 docs and nurses to help anyone who might come in.



The organization was sponsored by the Peace Corps and the docs, volunteers and supplies and equipment were from Taiwan. People needing med assistance came to the desks shown, filled out paperwork and waited (as is the name of the game anywhere in India) to be called. However, the waiting area was stocked with water and cookies.


One could get any ailment checked by the docs. This man is having his ears checked at a table where interpreters, volunteers and nurses stand ready to assist.



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This young Tibetan woman is receiving help filling out paperwork so she can see the doctor.

There was a pretty elaborate dental clinic. It seems like it was one of the busiest places. Many dental chairs were filled with people having their teeth checked, pulled, etc. Notice that the temple is open to the outside. Monkeys played in the trees while the docs worked their magic.



Take a look at the primitive looking dental tools used! It was pretty scary to see, let alone think of having any of these tools near MY mouth!



There was even a pharmacy for people that needed medicine. These volunteers manned the tables for two days, filling prescriptions for Tibetans who had seen the docs at the clinic.

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The president of the clinic was a dentist himself. He was a jolly man and insisted on having our picture taken together with his daughter who was working as a volunteer. The clinic was traveling through India for a couple of weeks, visiting ten sites where Tibetans were living, in order to set up these two day clinics.



Here is one of my Tibetan students from the grammar class in the afternoon. I met him at the clinic where he was seeking help for a "bad stomach." (It's a pretty common ailment here and most people attribute it to the changing weather at this monsoon time of year).



I'm happy to report that he was feeling better the next day. And, truth be told, so am I today! A happy ending for all!