Crossing the Indian countryside
14 November 2008 | India, New Delhi
Short of a week after my last post I am yet again writing a new story on my blog, a rather exceptional phenomenon. Reason for this is my latest trip that is worth mentioning to say the least, as well as the rare availability of time that allows me to update my blog in time for a change.
Before I start of with a colourful description of my latest trip I’d like to inform you about the birth of another blog at which I will post stories. Reason for this seemingly superfluous medium, taking into account my irregular posts and apparent shortage of time, is a newly born cooperation with my university. On their international website they refer visitors to the blog of a student currently working / living / studying abroad, at this moment a girl who’s residing in Japan. However, this particular girl happens to move back to the Netherlands soon enough, and it was in our mutual interest to allow me to take over the position of blogger for the university. The blog is set up differently though, stories have to be more frequent (at least twice a week) and shorter, with more pictures, videos and links than what I have put up here so far. If you guys are interested, the website is http://tony-in-india.blogspot.com/. Frequent blogging is supposed to start in about a week.
At this moment it is Friday afternoon, just after twelve, and through the widely opened balcony doors sunlight is flooding the living room. Though it’s already November I wear my swim shorts and the globally known and widely appreciated bright blue Tilburg University sweater that used to serve as a landmark for newly arrived students at the central station. Most of my co-residents are out for work, all but those who work as a teacher here; since it’s children’s day it’s a day off at schools. You don’t want to know how many holidays they have made up here… Not that I complain though. Later this afternoon my two students who I teach at home every Friday are expected, apart from that it should be a nice quiet day that allows me to catch up with a variety of issues, not the least of which is finishing this story. Tonight the Polish independence day is used as yet another excuse to throw a party, this time at a trainee house somewhere in the south of Delhi that is mainly inhabited by Polish trainees. You may very well understand that I do not let go on the opportunity to drink vodka and taste some zurek, the last time I have had the pleasure of nourishing the latter must have been about one year ago. Funny thing is that the trainee house is actually in another state of India, as in more countries the capital, i.e. Delhi, is a separate state, though the massive growth of the city has resulted in suburbs actually being subject to legislation of another state cause they have crossed state borders. Seemingly a matter of just mere paperwork, in practice the repercussions are rather inconvenient for us trainees, since auto rickshaw drivers are not allowed to cross state borders. To make them do so one has to pay way more, which makes a cab all of a sudden an affordable option as well. Anyway, I am confident we will rouse plenty of trainees here to join the celebration and thus realize affordable individual fares by stuffing the taxi to the max with body mass. Something I am more than used to anyway, travelling by public bus every day reduces the crowded metros in Paris to an easy stroll in the park and makes the streets in Athens look like a country side village in upper Kazakhstan. To illustrate matters I may exemplify my commute of last Wednesday which took my from I work by metro to CP (Connaught Place) where I take either the bus or an auto rickshaw. The rickshaw bastards were not willing to take my offers of sixty rupees, which is a decent fare, so I was reduced to either paying them more or taking the bus. Since it was rather early I reckoned that buses should not be too overcrowded, so I took my chances and joined the approaching bus. The scenery of Indian people trying to board the bus may best be described as an open wrestling contest, as they literally wriggle and squirm, push and twist in order to be standing next to each other ten seconds later in the aisle without having obtained any extra benefits from being the seventh’ or ninth’ person to board to vehicle, or if they are actually lucky enough to catch a seat, to be removed from the newly obtained haven of peace by some fat Indian woman abusing her right to claim seats and making the previous wrestling contest even more superfluous. As being in the midst of all that is far below my dignity I boarded the bus after the majority of plebs had already entered and the presence of that many people already at the start of the journey made me briefly reconsider my choice of actually joining the bus, however, I decided to go for it and took a spot at the back of the bus. My courage and determination was quickly rewarded by the availability of a seat on the back row a mere five minutes after departure, and as I was sitting comfortably the steady flow of people boarding the bus grew and grew. As my position was behind an iron fence that separated my seat from the exit I was protected to some extend from the thickly growing flow of people jamming into the vehicle. At some point I could see no windows, no light, all that was around me were bodies. Next to me, on top of each other, they were everywhere. A piece of belt, many coloured shirts, ties, shoes, hair.. it was one big blend of human being surrounding me. Couching, sneezing, talking excitingly in Hindi, thrown back and forward by the all but smooth driving style of the bum that had taken the driver’s seat... And although it could be scaringly claustrophobic, a part of me enjoyed being in the very heart of Delhi in an overcrowded bus with not a Western face to be seen anywhere close. It is how you experience the real India.
But let me touch upon my most recent journey, definitely one of the best ones so far, deep into Rajasthan, the Western province of India that consists mostly of desert. Motivation to opt for Pushkar was the yearly camel fair that was held there, and thus Johan and I joined two French girls by train at Saturday morning six o’clock. The previous night the two guys we had met the weekend before in Rishikesh paid us a visit, which resulted in us tucking in at around two o’clock, supposedly to wake up two hours later. The lack of sleep, abundance of alcoholic beverages consumed the previous night, and our general laid-back, easy going and unconcerned attitude resulted in some tight moments as we were stuck in a traffic jam at about ten minutes to six with the train departing at six sharp. We had no clue of the whereabouts of neither the train station nor our own positioning at that moment, and as the auto driver shouted ‘jump!’ there was little choice left as to leave the auto and give it a desperate try by foot. And there we went, surpassing the many vehicles locked in standstill, and to our great relief distinguishing the railway station gate at close proximity. The sprint to the gate, through the main entrance hall and straight into the train that was about to depart was an exciting way to start the journey. The fact that we made it after all will realize the same unconcerned attitude the next time we are set to depart, as it always works out well in the end. (Remember the Budapest train ride, Stefan, badaap?) The train was of surprisingly good quality, as we got food and tea offered throughout the ride and the chairs were comfy and provided even us giants in dwarf land with plenty of space for our legs. Pushkar turned out to be a nice cozy little town surrounding a lake, and as the lake was considered sacred by the Hindus drinking alcohol and eating any kind of meat was prohibited by law. We had learned our lesson from the previous weekend though, so we were well provided with beer, rum and whiskey purchased the previous night in Delhi. The town is said to give ground to about five hundred temples, the streets are cozy and full of shops, and the surrounding landscape is peaceful. The camel fair provided some entertainment the first night, but after having walked among about 25.000 camels there was little depth to be found in that specific field. To be honest, the one camel does not look that much different from the other one. Our choice to rent two motorbikes turned out to be a blessing for the trip, as we toured around the countryside the whole Sunday. The initial motorbike offered, with manual gears and stuff, turned out to be not that good of a choice, since I managed to crash into a car being parked at the side of the road after a mere twenty seconds of test ride. The guys renting the bikes were also convinced of the lethal character of lending us the vehicles and thus offered two bikes with automatic gears. More easier, more suitable, and there we went, Johan and I steering the units, the French girls on the back. Soon we left the town behind us with nothing to be seen but the Rajasthani countryside, small houses where people made a living, herds of cattle being guarded by children with sticks, outstretched crop fields. It was one of the rare moments in India so far where I had the overwhelming feeling of actually experiencing something special and real, something that provides unique insights in the way India looks like beyond the big cities. Besides that it felt like a holiday; the feeling of driving a motorbike, the ridiculous cowboy hats Johan and I had purchased, the unbounded feeling of being free of where to go and what to do. After having driven for quite some time and being well out of town with scarcely some houses to be seen, we got fucked. It was actually all too good to be true, the whole thing. Flat tire. Fuck. But as the Dutch say, ‘Geluk bij een ongeluk’, we ended up having a flat tire about 500 meters from the one and only bike repair shop in the wide region. So we actually ended up spending two hours at the place, visiting the villagers of the small conglomeration and drinking chii. We bought the children sweets and pens, enjoyed the hospitality of the wonderful people living there, and eventually blessed the flat tire for giving us this great insight into local countryside cultures. Once back in Pushkar we chilled out on the top of a temple overlooking the lake, roamed through the cozy streets, drove the streets of the city by motorbike, made fun of ourselves and of the people around us.. all in all it was a great trip. The newly found combination of chii (Indian tea) and ‘The Old Monk’ (cheap Indian rum) enabled us to enjoy some blend that is best described as warm baileys. Highly enjoyable, highly effective to dodge the restrictions on alcohol, as we seemingly just sip Indian tea, as each and every person does here. The sleeper train that brought us back to Delhi was also of supreme quality, though the lack of time in the morning made me go straight from the train station to school, without having had a shower, breakfast, or the means to change clothing.
After the last two weekends one may understand that I fully appreciate my lazy chilled out weekend in Delhi at this very moment. I think I’ll head to the cookie shop soon or order some ice cream, and subsequently read some. It’s a well deserved chilling out day.
As for now, thanks again for the reactions, my thoughts often enough float away to Holland, the Aegee SU’s, Erasmus in Poland, or some of the other great things I have shared with you guys. The very best from India,
Tony
Ps…
@ Linda: Psychology? Dat klinkt wel prima hoor. Hoe komt het dat het niet bevalt dan? Hoe vind je het op de uni? Het zou wel echt een prima master zijn! Maarja, mocht het niet lukken dan heb je iig een prima opportunity om naar het buitenland te gaan! Maar niets concreets tot op heden? Ik heb heel misschien al een plan voor 2009, maar dat is allemaal nog heel onzeker.. maar mss ga ik in Vietnam lesgeven. Zeker een land waar een wereldreis onderdeel van is eh ;) Maargoed, we zien het allemaal wel. Bedankt iig voor je reacties, ik vind het echt tof zo eens wat van je te horen!
@ Noor: Heb je al uitsluiting over die staking? Ik heb je al weer een hele tijd niet gesproken. Ben je dit weekend niet op skype een keer? Laat maar weten. Ik heb relatief veel tijd :D
@ Knuffelpad: ohw relaxt hoor zo’n vakantie in Turkije. Beetje jammer dat de gildebroeders een beetje lafjes langs elkaar af leven als ik dat zo hoor. Weet je al of vivian gaat samenwonen? En zoja wanneer? Ik wil echt supergraag terug als ik weer in NL ga wonen. En hoezo Jel moet werk zoeken? Ik dacht dat ie uni deed nu? Anyway, bedankt voor je update, en hoop snel weer van je te horen!
@ Paal: bedankt man voor je reactie! Hoe staat het er met jou voor nu in NL? is lastig om weer in tilly te vertoeven na die koningsmaanden in asia? Ik weet wel dat ik het Nederlandse weer niet mis, het is hier nog gewoon lekker 23 graden :D
@ Vader: heey! We moeten snel ff skypen! Dit weekend graag! Kunnen jullie zaterdag avond? Ik ga eerst eten bij een collega maar aangezien t tijdsverschil is gegroeid naar 4,5 uur moet dat wel prima samengaan.
@ Steevo: geldt ook voor jou ouwe, skypen, binnenkort! Hoe was milano??
@ Olimpia: How was Turkey? Give me an update soon! And yeah.. skype would be nice as well ;)
@ Lennart: sorry man voor dit extreme lange verhaal :P Mn andere nieuwe site is dus veel korter, mss moet je die dan maar volgen. Dat worden wat meer oppervlakkige korte verhaaltjes ;) Nog iets spannends gebeurd in Veldhoven??
Before I start of with a colourful description of my latest trip I’d like to inform you about the birth of another blog at which I will post stories. Reason for this seemingly superfluous medium, taking into account my irregular posts and apparent shortage of time, is a newly born cooperation with my university. On their international website they refer visitors to the blog of a student currently working / living / studying abroad, at this moment a girl who’s residing in Japan. However, this particular girl happens to move back to the Netherlands soon enough, and it was in our mutual interest to allow me to take over the position of blogger for the university. The blog is set up differently though, stories have to be more frequent (at least twice a week) and shorter, with more pictures, videos and links than what I have put up here so far. If you guys are interested, the website is http://tony-in-india.blogspot.com/. Frequent blogging is supposed to start in about a week.
At this moment it is Friday afternoon, just after twelve, and through the widely opened balcony doors sunlight is flooding the living room. Though it’s already November I wear my swim shorts and the globally known and widely appreciated bright blue Tilburg University sweater that used to serve as a landmark for newly arrived students at the central station. Most of my co-residents are out for work, all but those who work as a teacher here; since it’s children’s day it’s a day off at schools. You don’t want to know how many holidays they have made up here… Not that I complain though. Later this afternoon my two students who I teach at home every Friday are expected, apart from that it should be a nice quiet day that allows me to catch up with a variety of issues, not the least of which is finishing this story. Tonight the Polish independence day is used as yet another excuse to throw a party, this time at a trainee house somewhere in the south of Delhi that is mainly inhabited by Polish trainees. You may very well understand that I do not let go on the opportunity to drink vodka and taste some zurek, the last time I have had the pleasure of nourishing the latter must have been about one year ago. Funny thing is that the trainee house is actually in another state of India, as in more countries the capital, i.e. Delhi, is a separate state, though the massive growth of the city has resulted in suburbs actually being subject to legislation of another state cause they have crossed state borders. Seemingly a matter of just mere paperwork, in practice the repercussions are rather inconvenient for us trainees, since auto rickshaw drivers are not allowed to cross state borders. To make them do so one has to pay way more, which makes a cab all of a sudden an affordable option as well. Anyway, I am confident we will rouse plenty of trainees here to join the celebration and thus realize affordable individual fares by stuffing the taxi to the max with body mass. Something I am more than used to anyway, travelling by public bus every day reduces the crowded metros in Paris to an easy stroll in the park and makes the streets in Athens look like a country side village in upper Kazakhstan. To illustrate matters I may exemplify my commute of last Wednesday which took my from I work by metro to CP (Connaught Place) where I take either the bus or an auto rickshaw. The rickshaw bastards were not willing to take my offers of sixty rupees, which is a decent fare, so I was reduced to either paying them more or taking the bus. Since it was rather early I reckoned that buses should not be too overcrowded, so I took my chances and joined the approaching bus. The scenery of Indian people trying to board the bus may best be described as an open wrestling contest, as they literally wriggle and squirm, push and twist in order to be standing next to each other ten seconds later in the aisle without having obtained any extra benefits from being the seventh’ or ninth’ person to board to vehicle, or if they are actually lucky enough to catch a seat, to be removed from the newly obtained haven of peace by some fat Indian woman abusing her right to claim seats and making the previous wrestling contest even more superfluous. As being in the midst of all that is far below my dignity I boarded the bus after the majority of plebs had already entered and the presence of that many people already at the start of the journey made me briefly reconsider my choice of actually joining the bus, however, I decided to go for it and took a spot at the back of the bus. My courage and determination was quickly rewarded by the availability of a seat on the back row a mere five minutes after departure, and as I was sitting comfortably the steady flow of people boarding the bus grew and grew. As my position was behind an iron fence that separated my seat from the exit I was protected to some extend from the thickly growing flow of people jamming into the vehicle. At some point I could see no windows, no light, all that was around me were bodies. Next to me, on top of each other, they were everywhere. A piece of belt, many coloured shirts, ties, shoes, hair.. it was one big blend of human being surrounding me. Couching, sneezing, talking excitingly in Hindi, thrown back and forward by the all but smooth driving style of the bum that had taken the driver’s seat... And although it could be scaringly claustrophobic, a part of me enjoyed being in the very heart of Delhi in an overcrowded bus with not a Western face to be seen anywhere close. It is how you experience the real India.
But let me touch upon my most recent journey, definitely one of the best ones so far, deep into Rajasthan, the Western province of India that consists mostly of desert. Motivation to opt for Pushkar was the yearly camel fair that was held there, and thus Johan and I joined two French girls by train at Saturday morning six o’clock. The previous night the two guys we had met the weekend before in Rishikesh paid us a visit, which resulted in us tucking in at around two o’clock, supposedly to wake up two hours later. The lack of sleep, abundance of alcoholic beverages consumed the previous night, and our general laid-back, easy going and unconcerned attitude resulted in some tight moments as we were stuck in a traffic jam at about ten minutes to six with the train departing at six sharp. We had no clue of the whereabouts of neither the train station nor our own positioning at that moment, and as the auto driver shouted ‘jump!’ there was little choice left as to leave the auto and give it a desperate try by foot. And there we went, surpassing the many vehicles locked in standstill, and to our great relief distinguishing the railway station gate at close proximity. The sprint to the gate, through the main entrance hall and straight into the train that was about to depart was an exciting way to start the journey. The fact that we made it after all will realize the same unconcerned attitude the next time we are set to depart, as it always works out well in the end. (Remember the Budapest train ride, Stefan, badaap?) The train was of surprisingly good quality, as we got food and tea offered throughout the ride and the chairs were comfy and provided even us giants in dwarf land with plenty of space for our legs. Pushkar turned out to be a nice cozy little town surrounding a lake, and as the lake was considered sacred by the Hindus drinking alcohol and eating any kind of meat was prohibited by law. We had learned our lesson from the previous weekend though, so we were well provided with beer, rum and whiskey purchased the previous night in Delhi. The town is said to give ground to about five hundred temples, the streets are cozy and full of shops, and the surrounding landscape is peaceful. The camel fair provided some entertainment the first night, but after having walked among about 25.000 camels there was little depth to be found in that specific field. To be honest, the one camel does not look that much different from the other one. Our choice to rent two motorbikes turned out to be a blessing for the trip, as we toured around the countryside the whole Sunday. The initial motorbike offered, with manual gears and stuff, turned out to be not that good of a choice, since I managed to crash into a car being parked at the side of the road after a mere twenty seconds of test ride. The guys renting the bikes were also convinced of the lethal character of lending us the vehicles and thus offered two bikes with automatic gears. More easier, more suitable, and there we went, Johan and I steering the units, the French girls on the back. Soon we left the town behind us with nothing to be seen but the Rajasthani countryside, small houses where people made a living, herds of cattle being guarded by children with sticks, outstretched crop fields. It was one of the rare moments in India so far where I had the overwhelming feeling of actually experiencing something special and real, something that provides unique insights in the way India looks like beyond the big cities. Besides that it felt like a holiday; the feeling of driving a motorbike, the ridiculous cowboy hats Johan and I had purchased, the unbounded feeling of being free of where to go and what to do. After having driven for quite some time and being well out of town with scarcely some houses to be seen, we got fucked. It was actually all too good to be true, the whole thing. Flat tire. Fuck. But as the Dutch say, ‘Geluk bij een ongeluk’, we ended up having a flat tire about 500 meters from the one and only bike repair shop in the wide region. So we actually ended up spending two hours at the place, visiting the villagers of the small conglomeration and drinking chii. We bought the children sweets and pens, enjoyed the hospitality of the wonderful people living there, and eventually blessed the flat tire for giving us this great insight into local countryside cultures. Once back in Pushkar we chilled out on the top of a temple overlooking the lake, roamed through the cozy streets, drove the streets of the city by motorbike, made fun of ourselves and of the people around us.. all in all it was a great trip. The newly found combination of chii (Indian tea) and ‘The Old Monk’ (cheap Indian rum) enabled us to enjoy some blend that is best described as warm baileys. Highly enjoyable, highly effective to dodge the restrictions on alcohol, as we seemingly just sip Indian tea, as each and every person does here. The sleeper train that brought us back to Delhi was also of supreme quality, though the lack of time in the morning made me go straight from the train station to school, without having had a shower, breakfast, or the means to change clothing.
After the last two weekends one may understand that I fully appreciate my lazy chilled out weekend in Delhi at this very moment. I think I’ll head to the cookie shop soon or order some ice cream, and subsequently read some. It’s a well deserved chilling out day.
As for now, thanks again for the reactions, my thoughts often enough float away to Holland, the Aegee SU’s, Erasmus in Poland, or some of the other great things I have shared with you guys. The very best from India,
Tony
Ps…
@ Linda: Psychology? Dat klinkt wel prima hoor. Hoe komt het dat het niet bevalt dan? Hoe vind je het op de uni? Het zou wel echt een prima master zijn! Maarja, mocht het niet lukken dan heb je iig een prima opportunity om naar het buitenland te gaan! Maar niets concreets tot op heden? Ik heb heel misschien al een plan voor 2009, maar dat is allemaal nog heel onzeker.. maar mss ga ik in Vietnam lesgeven. Zeker een land waar een wereldreis onderdeel van is eh ;) Maargoed, we zien het allemaal wel. Bedankt iig voor je reacties, ik vind het echt tof zo eens wat van je te horen!
@ Noor: Heb je al uitsluiting over die staking? Ik heb je al weer een hele tijd niet gesproken. Ben je dit weekend niet op skype een keer? Laat maar weten. Ik heb relatief veel tijd :D
@ Knuffelpad: ohw relaxt hoor zo’n vakantie in Turkije. Beetje jammer dat de gildebroeders een beetje lafjes langs elkaar af leven als ik dat zo hoor. Weet je al of vivian gaat samenwonen? En zoja wanneer? Ik wil echt supergraag terug als ik weer in NL ga wonen. En hoezo Jel moet werk zoeken? Ik dacht dat ie uni deed nu? Anyway, bedankt voor je update, en hoop snel weer van je te horen!
@ Paal: bedankt man voor je reactie! Hoe staat het er met jou voor nu in NL? is lastig om weer in tilly te vertoeven na die koningsmaanden in asia? Ik weet wel dat ik het Nederlandse weer niet mis, het is hier nog gewoon lekker 23 graden :D
@ Vader: heey! We moeten snel ff skypen! Dit weekend graag! Kunnen jullie zaterdag avond? Ik ga eerst eten bij een collega maar aangezien t tijdsverschil is gegroeid naar 4,5 uur moet dat wel prima samengaan.
@ Steevo: geldt ook voor jou ouwe, skypen, binnenkort! Hoe was milano??
@ Olimpia: How was Turkey? Give me an update soon! And yeah.. skype would be nice as well ;)
@ Lennart: sorry man voor dit extreme lange verhaal :P Mn andere nieuwe site is dus veel korter, mss moet je die dan maar volgen. Dat worden wat meer oppervlakkige korte verhaaltjes ;) Nog iets spannends gebeurd in Veldhoven??
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