Delhi to Jaipur

15.11.12

Delhi to Jaipur

Didn't sleep well, I am having a hard time adjusting to this new schedule.  I am not usually this bad, but I will get it with time.  After waking up every hour, I finally decided it was late enough to get up.  Ate breakfast on the rooftop restaurant.  It turns out, the only things worse than wasting food when there are starving kids in India is wasting food when you are in India!  But they serve so much food, it is so hard to eat it all.  For almost ever meal!  I noticed this the last time as well.  I think what I gathered was many Indians only don't have 3 square meals a day, so they eat as much as they can when they have the chance.  I don't know if this is true, but it is the only way to explain the portions of food being served and their small bellies and body structures.  What was included in this breakfast, and in other hotel breakfasts I have encountered, was eggs any way (they usually like cooking omelets, and I usually get a masala omelette with tomatoes and peppers) with half of a roasted tomato on the side, toast with Nutella or preserves, cereal (I never eat), paratha and yoghurt dipping sauce (like a tortilla filed with potatoes, very thin), and…….maybe that is is, besides juice and coffee.  Oh yeah, then they wanted to cook me crepes!  I had to refuse, I was starting to feel sick!  TO be polite, I ate most of the breakfast, and will make a mental note to just order what I can eat, even if they seem to think I need more to eat.  I also wonder if this pushing of food happens to everyone, or if they think my larger than usual body needs more sustenance :).  There are many other hotels that just serve something like an omelette nothing more.  I overheard a lady at a nearby table during breakfast refuse to eat another omelette as the waited had suggested, as she had eaten one everyday for the past three weeks.  I definitely remember feeling that was last tim in India, as eggs aren't my favorite dish and I'm not used to eating breakfast anyway.  But here, I generally try to eat it since I know I will usually be walking around a lot and I need some energy.  Plus, it can be included in the room rent, and it makes sense to take advantage of that.

With an early start, which is a rarity for me, I take the Delhi Metro to Connaught Place.  It's not quite that easy, you see, as I have to actually get to the Metro station first.  I remembered how to get there from my previous stay at the hotel, and had I not they would have sent someone with me to show me the way.  That wasn't the problem, but I should have let someone come with me just to get me across the main street!  Haha, I waited a good 7 minutes before having the courage to make a dash for it.  They all drive on the other side of the street, just as the British do, which I an get used to.  But it is nonstop and without rhyme or reason.  I ended up near a bus station so there were buses halting to a stop and inching forward until their departure time, with young and old men rapping on the side of the bus, screaming what I can only imagine was the destination of the bus, encouraging riders tom hurry quickly.  I wore sunglasses, not because it was specifically bright today, as it in fact wash;t because of the fog again, but also to prevent people from seeing what they must see as shock, desperation and fear in a foreigners.  I'm not so shocked, desperate and fearful at this point, but I most certainly was not confident, which is one of they keys to being in India.  I had done this before, I knew I found do it.  I held my breath, and dashed across the 4 lanes of traffic and stood on the median.  After a shorter wait this time, I finally made my run for it and ended up on the other side of the road, where I would find the entry to the Uttam Nagar East station.  But not before walking through vendors of all types setting up shop.  Most were mounds of different fruits being stacked tall.  Pomegranates, mangoes, bananas, other fruit I am unable to identify.  necklaces of strung together marigolds, cheap watches.

I wait in a queue, which has a different meaning than I am used to.  Lines don't so much as form as a large bunch gather around the ticket counter.  Push your way through, good luck.  I don't yet have that Indian backbone, so I wait until I feel it is time to be assertive and push through.  I am not able to buy a ticket there since I need a one day pass, so I go through security, then realize I must go back around to customer care, then through security again.  Done.  One day pass is 150 Rupees (3 dollars).  It turns out I could have just bought 2 one way tickets for much cheaper, but wasn't so sure I was only going to CP and back.  I find the platform and before long the metro has arrived.  I hurry to the front of the train as it seems less crowded and jump on.  TO my surprise and delight, there is a women's only cabin!  I have heard of them and had even seen a video of men being mauled and attacked by women for getting in the wrong cabin when others were full.  Pretty funny actually - Google it.  And I had seen "Ladies Only" designated seats in regular trains and buses before.  But here were the coveted spaces, in the front of the train - duly noted.  More room, and I don't have to deal with the unwavering stares from the men.  Pigs they are!

Got to Connaught Place, walked around only to realize that shop were closed until 10:30, or 11:00 or 11:30, whenever they felt like opening.  It was about 9:30 or 10:00 by this time, so I decided to walk around for a while.  I wasn't really there to shop anyway, just looking for something to do as I wasn't interested in the sightseeing and my train didm;t leave until 6:00pm.  Touts every which way.  "What is your good name, ma'am?"  "Where are you going, ma'am"  "Shops are closed now, ma'am, there is a festival today."  "You are too early ma'am, but what are you looking for, I get get it for you.  I know a good place."  "Here, please just take this taxi, I know where to take you."  I tried to walk with confidence but must have been unconvincing since CP is actually arranged in a large circle and with all shops closed, they knew there was no destination anyway.  One tout would walk with me for some time, asking question after question until they noticed my deliberately vague responses and my intent not to buy anything.  I was never rude, just kept a brisk pace.  Once one dropped off, another would immediately rush by my side to fill the gap.  And so on.  One offered me a free map of Delhi, which I did want, so I allowed him to take me to a "Tourist Office."  I have yet to see an official tourist office in India such as you see throughout Europe, although I have heard rumors of their existence.  I knew it would be a travel agency, but what the hell, I had the time and knew they couldn't break me!  I went in to meet Shafi, a Muslim from Kashmir.  He asked questions, liking to hear that I am from the world's superpower of America (his words, not mine).  A colleague sent a free Delhi map over the high glass partition and gave it to me.  He talked sometime about the big city, where he was from, that he has brothers and sisters and that his mother is the most important thing in the world to him.  He believes this is universal.  He said I reminded him of his young Swedish friend, that until I spoke he thought I was Swedish.  I told him that I was leaving in the evening for Jaipur, so there was no need for tours, taxis, etc and he seemed fine with this but still wanted to talk.  This is the rule rather than the exception, people wanting to talk to me.  I think it is true with most foreigners, specifically those that are native English speakers.  They like to practice their English, and show off their use of American slang and phrases.  Shafi was pleasant, and invited me back for tea later in the day, just to sit and talk.  I said I might if I had time, but in reality I had no intention of returning.  Maybe had I been in India longer and felt more comfortable in general I would have, but not today.

Then walking , with many streets closed and signs directing which way to go.  Touts telling me there was only one way around (the other way, of course, no doubt leading to his friend's/brother's/aunt's shop down the way.  I kept walking.  Then a younger man started walking next to me, saying "Wow, you must be so sick of touts."  This I believe to relieve my fears that he was not a tout.  He asked the usual questions, and I gave the usual vague and delayed responses.  He asked me to go to coffee and I declined.  He said no need to worry, it was not like he was asking me to take a whiskey.  I was not interested in this still.  I felt like I had been walking for sometime, so I decided to stop for a smoke.  I offered him one.  After being stopped for only a moment, a police officer walks up and demands to see his ID.  That is the only thing I can understand from the man, and he doesn't seem interested in me.  I am wondering if is illegal to smoke in Delhi outside, but I didn't feel that was the case.  He said no.  I was very uncomfortable by this time and said I was leaving and walked away, while the officer demanded ID, getting more stern by this time.  I walked to the corner where another man told me he was a tout.  I had gathered that much, but was wondering why the police had chosen him to hassle.  I feel he probably hassled tourists and had a record of scamming them or doing something bad.  No one else was ever bothered.  Then I sat for some time, mostly being left alone.  A guy offered to shine my shoes.  This happened the last time I was in Delhi, as a kid followed me around for ages until I succumbed but in the end I was just denying him for principle reasons of not giving in even though I wouldn't have minded a shoe shine as CP is a rather dusty place.  We had agreed upon a price but when he was done, he said that was for each shoe, the little bugger.  Being worn thin by this time in my travels, I gave in as to avoid any confrontation.  So today when I was asked how much, I said 20 Rupees, for both shoes!  He agreed.  I put my leg up on the step, and about 5 men gathered around to watch.  They diffused after some time, after mumbling something or other.  It is times like these I am glad I don't know Hindi.  THe man did a good job, it was his first work of the day, and I only had a 50 Rupee bill and figured he wouldn't have change, so I gave it to him.  He was grateful and did a small prayer afterwards.

By about this time, there was a small hole-in-the wall stationary store open that I wanted to visit.  I had been there before, with a tiny old lady who ran it who was sweeter than ever and her soft and toothless face reminded me of a friend.  My friend isn't toothless, yet has the same small and meek mouth  I bought some stationary and envelopes.  I walked around more, trying to find the smell store I had purchased some antique jewelry the time before, but was unsuccessful. I know it was off of a side street, but there were too many and eventually I was just going in circles.  I felt that I had sufficiently had an "Indian enough" day and decided to go back to the hotel until my train.  I waited impatiently, read a book, and took a small and pointless nap before being summoned downstairs to settle the bill and head out.  The hotel was very kind to let me check in so early the day before (6:00am) and check out so late today (5:00pm) that I was worried there was a miscommunication and I would be charged for 2 nights,  I felt at this point that I would have been okay with that, as I had slept more than 2 days worth, taken 2 showers, and had used many of their services.  They indeed did charge me for one night only, and I was relieved.  Then I hopped in the car and off to the railway station I was!

Nervous that I would't find my coach number and get on in time as the train would only be stopped for 2 minutes, I made a dash for the train door as soon as it stopped, but intimately letting many others going in front of me before I finally got a leg in and had trouble lugging my heavy and cumbersome suitcase on board, as there were hands and legs making their way in still and finally I made it.  That was the most important, I could find my seat later.  It wash;t too had, it was in the lower berth, as this was a double decker train.  My suites was too large to fit in the overhead racks, so I put it in the back seating area where there were others.  I was tired but afraid to look away from my luggage for fear of it being stolen.  After some time I realize this is a pretty empty train, mostly filled with families and business men and against my will I drift off to sleep.  I can't help it on trains, the rocking from side to side has an almost instant effect on me.  It will be a four hour journey and I will be awoken many times from wallahs walking up and down the isles selling different foods and drinks.  Each time I glance at my suitcase and each time it is there.  Once I look up just in time to be offered tomato soup.  Hell yeah, I love tomato soup in India!  I small cup is poured and I pay 10 Rupees for the soup, only 20 cents.  It is the grossest soup I have ever tasted!  It tastes like garbage and black pepper.  Hard to explain.  Not like rotting tomatoes, but actually like garbage.  Sick.  I can't eat it )drink it).  

I go back and forth between sleeping, people watching, and reading my book.  We are there before I know it.  I do not see my hotel driver, but of course there is not shortage of taxi/rickshaw drivers waiting to take me to the destination of my choice.  One, Javed, walks with me even though I have told him I am waiting for someone.  I must go up a few flights of stairs over the foot bridge and down again to get the main entrance/exit.  He insists on carrying my luggage up and down even though I try myself.  He is a skinny and weak looking man, but Indians are wiry and he manages without a hint of sweat of breathlessness.  I am unable to find my hotel driver still, so I ask to use his phone.  We make arrangements that he will take me to the hotel, as the other driver was lost or something.  He had talked to the hotel and decided this actually, but once he returned with his car I asked him to call the hotel again for me to confirm.  I didn't want there to be any confusion, as is so common in India.  Plus I don't trust anyone.  It was confirmed, and I got in the taxi.  He asked the usual questions, asked me if I smoke pot (I do not, but if I did, I most certainly wouldn't accept any from a sketchy stranger in India).  I think he is driving as absolutely slow as possible, I think so he can talk with me more.  Almost there, a man in a motorcycle rides up and directs him.  Javed tells me it is the hotel guy who found us because he was worried he would take me to another hotel.  You see, my distrust comes from Indians not even trusting each other!!!

The hotel was looked great on the outside and in the lobby.  I prepaid, which is rare in India (I should have gotten a receipt or something) for 2 nights.  There are 4 other men just standing around, staring at me and the checkout process.  It seems unnecessary, especially as late in the night it is, almost 11:00pm by now.  After I check in, most of them form a line and carry my stuff into my room.  I ask if there is a restaurant, or a small shop nearby as I have skipped dinner other than the sip or garbage soup I had earlier.  I said nothing big, just some rice and dal would be good.  I am called down shortly, into the poorly and fluorescent lit basement, where four men stood and stared as I was served rice, chicken, potatoes, and chappathi.  More than I wanted and I wasn't interested in eating week old chicken.  I ate as much as I could, again too much food, and rush upstairs to my room.  I understand that there are cultural differences, but why the fuck do that men need to stop and watch me eat!  After a few minutes there was only one watching me, and I am sure he was the restaurant guy, but to step a few feet away from the table and stare unwavering is annoying!  I make some conversation, but only to be polite and less awkward.  It didn't work.

After my nap on the train, I am not so tired, so I read for some time and finally fall asleep before three.  I am staying in Rani Mahal Hotel.  Tiny hard beds, but it is clean and there is a proper bathroom, so I am happy.  Tomorrow I will find a dress shop to have some salwar/kameez made and find a SIM card.

To whoever may be reading this:  I hope you are able to understand that my tone is more factual and anecdotal than negative and complaintative, as sometimes it may seem.  These sometimes bizarre and seemingly bad experiences are generally pleasant and are what males India, well, India.  I am absolutely enjoying my time thus far!