The Long Train to Varanasi

Monday morning I returned from a weekend trip to Varanasi. Varanasi is a city of 1 million located on the Ganges River and one of the holiest cities for Hindus. Hindus make pilgrimages here to bathe in the river and it is said that if you die in Varanasi, you go straight to Heaven.

I departed on a Friday evening train, along with Louise, Elodie, Lauren, Vivien, Marlies, Clement and Mathieu. Armed with bags of food and many bottles of water, we set off for the long trip. The ride was indeed long (14 hours), but we kept ourselves amused by playing Asshole (also known as Cheesehead) for hours on end. We finally arrived around 8am and made our way to Hotel Alka.

The Ganges is the life of the city. People bathe, swim and wash their clothes in the water. Others sells produce, flowers and postcards along the river's edge. But more importantly, the Ganges is lined with ghats, where people go to pray. And there is the Burning Ghat, where bodies are cremated along the river in a formal ceremony, in which only men can participate.

Fortunately for us, we arrived in Varanasi the weekend of the Chhath Puja. This is a festival dedicated to the Sun God. At sunset on Saturday and at sunrise on Sunday, people gathered at the Ganges and women entered the water to bathe themselves. We enjoyed the sights and sounds of the puja from a row boat in the Ganges at sunset and again at sunrise. Sunday morning we rose at 5:15am for our boat ride. Although it was still dark, the sound of fireworks already filled the air, and as we peered out of our hotel window, we could seen huge crowds of people along the Ganges. Once on the boat, we were paddled along the water and were able to witness the puja in action. Loud music played. Vendors sold flowers and candy. And people were everywhere. At the first sight of the sun on Sunday morning, the crowds broke into a loud cheer. But within minutes, all of the festivities were over and people returned to their everyday routines.

Our return trip back to Delhi was even longer, nearly 20 hours. But my super-sleeping powers kicked in and I managed to asleep for all but a few hours of the trip, to everyone else's amazement. Tired, yet refreshed from the weekend's experiences, I returned to my guest house and starting thinking about my next trip out of Delhi.

Driving Rules

I spent a lot of time riding in the car today, traveling between offices, so it inspired me to come up with a list of key driving rules in India. I don’t have the courage to ever get behind the wheel here, but if you do, here are some things to keep in mind.

• First and foremost, the larger vehicle has the right of way. A mere mortal is no match for a speeding bus.
• Using your horn is a must. Without it others won’t know you are there.
• The more you honk, the faster you will get where you are going.
• Lanes are merely suggestions. You are welcome to drive across two lanes, if you prefer. Driving in the oncoming traffic lane is also acceptable.
• Red lights have no meaning, especially at night. If you don’t see a car in the intersection, then you are allowed to drive right through – no stop required.
• Women cannot get injured on a motorbike, only men can. This must be the case since women never wear helmets, only men do.
• If the turning lane has a long line, you can just form a second turning lane and squeeze your way to the front.
• Side-view mirrors are a hassle. Most are either turned in or were knocked off long ago. If you leave them turned out, you run the risk of a having a passing motorbike smash it. (This actually happened to a car I was in last week).
• When traveling by bus, rickshaw or motorbike, passengers are expected to assist with the driving by sticking their bodies out the windows to signal left and right turns and lane changes.
• If crossing a busy road, you may be able to stop traffic long enough to cross just by sticking your hand out, but there are no guarantees.
• If for some reason, you are stopped by the police, you can always bribe your way out of it. Good to know.

Despite these rules, I have only seen two accidents on the side of the road and only one of these involved blood. Good luck on the roads.

Indian Stretchable Time - My New Best Friend

Indian Standard Time or IST is officially the time zone for India, which is 9.5 hours ahead of Eastern Time (and 10.5 hours ahead after Daylight Savings ends next week). But I've also heard IST referred to as Indian Stretchable Time. As far as I can tell Indian Stretchable Time = LATE. I think IST is wonderful. Where else can the punctually-challenged like myself thrive?

IST allows me to show up at the office at 10am and no one thinks anything of it. It enables me to say I'll be there in 10 minutes when I really mean 30. Unfortunately, it also means that lunch isn't until 1-2pm and dinner often isn't served until 9pm or later. This part will take some getting used to.

What are the reasons for the culture of lateness? I have no idea, but I don't really mind it at all. It's nice to have a slower (later) pace of life. Traffic is one possibility as there is no rhyme or reason to it. Every hour is rush hour. Maybe it's because the car up ahead is on fire. Or maybe the elephant walking in the street is going too slowly. Or possibly, it's because there's a rickshaw driver who's stopped in the middle of the road to ask for directions for the fifth time. Or maybe it's just that there are so many people, cars, trucks, buses, motorbikes, richshaws, bicycles and animals on the road at the same time.

And I realized today that the traffic excuse is a truly acceptable and understandable one here. This afternoon I was headed to a meeting (see, I am working here!) just outside of town and encountered a monster traffic jam. Apparently, it was the result of the road being closed because a foreign minister was passing through. The entire road just closed. Fortunately, my driver convinced me to let him turnaround and I rescheduled my meeting for tomorrow morning. Although it was a bit of an inconvenience, it definitely beat sitting in traffic for another 2 hours and arriving embarrassingly late for my meeting. Or maybe I would have been considered on time after all?

Diwali 2006

Diwali 2006 has come and gone in the capital and things are beginning to settle down. Everyone warned of the craziness of the fireworks, but it would have been impossible to adequately prepare me for the madness that it actually was.

Saturday was quite nice. It started with breakfast at the guest house with Lauren, a stop in a craft market and then coffee in Khan Market. There, we picked up some sweets to bring to the Diwali lunch hosted by some Danish friend, hence the Danish flag on their doors in the picture to the right. The food at the lunch was phenomenal and the company was even better. After lunch (it was already after 6pm), I squeezed in a quick nap to recourse for the evening. We made our way to Vivien and Elodie's flat in the Defense Colony. Their flat has a beautiful balcony that offered a great vantage point to the firecracker festivities going on below. Coming from the Nation's Capital, I thought I had seen firework displays before. Instead, I quickly learned that it is one thing to watch fireworks when you can settle into a nice spot on the grass and view them overhead, and it's another when they are right in front of you. At home I always had a certain comfort level knowing that the fireworks were far away and that they were being set off by trained professionals. You have none of that comfort here.

From the balcony, we watched as neighbors filled the streets to set off their arsenals. Some fireworks were launched into the air and provided the beautiful displays to which I am accustomed. But many more were just firecrackers that spewed flames a few feet off the ground accompanied by incredibly loud booms. My favorite of the night was one that littered the street with colorful confetti.

And I'm featuring this lovely photo of Lauren, Nic and Louise at the Diwali party on Saturday. It looks like they will be prominent figures in my life over the next few months, so you should get used to hearing about them. Louise is my co-worker from South Africa, social life-planner-extraordinaire, and shopping partner. She's done these jobs extremely well, as I'm now exhausted and sick (see next paragraph). Nic is her flat mate, fellow South African, and cricket enthusiast. He's already taken to calling me Chander - a la Mrs. Roder. He's signed up for a 2 year stint in Delhi, so it's a good thing he's not going anywhere anytime soon. Friday was the first and only day I haven't seen Louise since I've been in Delhi. Lauren (from Holland) picked up where she left off and invited me out for a night of hotel bar-hopping with friends. And we're staying at the same guest house, so I get to see her just about every day too. That's until she moves to a flat of her very own next week, since she will be here for 2-3 years. So, these three and the countless other people I've met so far have made my transition to life in Delhi impeccably smooth and immensely entertaining. I can't help but look forward to the next 5 1/2 months!

Now that things are beginning to settle down, I'm going to use this time to recover from the cold I seemed to have caught here. I'm blaming it on the air pollution, the excessive AC and my general lack of sleep over the past two weeks. I guess with all of the excitement of being in a new city and meeting new people, I have neglected my body. Since this past weekend was Diwali, I didn't want to stay in and miss out on all of the fun and fireworks. And If I had, I would have nothing to write about on my blog!

Must Be the Money

I'm cringing at the title of this blog, but I just had to do it because I heard this song while in a club last night and got a good laugh. Once my laughter subsided, I proceeded to sing along with every word...which I know thanks to Joey, Paul and Chris and their obsession with this song several years ago. And I figured the title was semi-appropriate since today is Diwali, the Festival of Lights. It is also the day when Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth, Beauty and Prosperity is worshipped. Diwali celebrates the return of Rama after 14 years in exile. As part of the celebration, people visit family and friends, share sweets, gamble and set off fireworks (or crackers as they call them here). It's kind of like Christmas festivities, Fourth of July fireworks and a trip to Vegas all rolled into one. Homes and businesses are cleaned and decorated to welcome Lakshmi, who will visit to bless the people. Women buy new utensils. Clay oil lamps are lit and displayed everywhere.

In the days leading up to the holiday, the city has been filled with Diwali excitement. Markets and shops were more crowded this week and my office was a virtual ghost town on Friday. The exception was the few people gathered for a photo in the Accenture office. And like every other office, shop and house, it was brightly decorated for holiday.

Most people have told me that this is one of the most exciting times to be in India. Only a few have warned me that it is one of the worst. I'm sure it will be one of the craziest and most memorable. Plans for the day include a Diwali lunch at the apartment of some Danish friends and a party in the evening at the apartment of some French friends. And fireworks, of course. Assuming I can avoid getting hit by errant crackers, I will report back on how the day turned out. Until, then Happy Diwali.

A Tale of Two Delhis - Old vs. New

The other day, I wrote about my travels to Old Delhi - the crowds, the rickshaws, the overall madness. Well, the following evening was the complete opposite of that night. After relaxing and enjoying a few beers on Louise and Nic's rooftop patio, we went by rickshaw to the Turquoise Cottage in New Delhi. There we met up with Elodie, Lise (from Denmark) and some new friends to celebrate Thomas's (a new friend) departure from Delhi.

At dinner I was surrounded by Westerners, in what I referred to as a mini-UN. There were people from Denmark, France, Norway, Great Britain, Finland, and South Africa. Louise, Nic and I feasted on chili crab and garlic butter crab, much to Louise's dismay. But those of you at home know my love of crabs and my need to eat them whenever they appear on a menu. Fortunately, you always eat with your hands in India, so no one balked at the mess we made. And the crabs were incredibly tasty!

After dinner, we said our goodbyes to Thomas. He headed to the airport and we headed downstairs to the dance club. The usual 500 rupee cover charge was waived and off we went. Downstairs, the bar was crowded and filled with smoke and American music was blasting through the speakers. But it wasn't just American music. It was an assortment of 80s and 90s rock - U2, Dire Straits, Nirvana, Creed, Whitesnake and the likes. It was so strange to stand back and remember that it was 2006 and that I was in a club in Delhi. It easily could have been 1996 and I was standing in Chadwick's.

The contrast to my experience in Old Delhi was just amazing. Here were Indians paying the equivalent of $5 or more for a drink, while the night before there were rickshaw drivers haggling us over 10 rupees. In Old Delhi I witnessed hundreds of Indians living in shacks and on the streets, while the following night I was surrounded by the privileged. Never before had I seen such disparities between the poor and the rich and never before had the two faces of Delhi been so clearly illustrated for me.

A Few Things I've Seen and Experienced

Here are a few comments on things I seen, experienced or discovered over the past 10 days that I think are humorous enough or interesting enough to share:

• I thought driving was chaotic in some of the other cities I have visited, but none of them compare to Delhi. The rule of thumb that everyone seems to obey is that larger vehicles have the right of way. Therefore, the pecking order is as follows: trucks and buses, cars, rickshaws, motorbikes, bicycles, then finally people.
• My morning commute to the office via auto-rickshaw is one of the coolest (and probably most dangerous) I've ever experienced. But it's also one of the cheapest - only 40 rupees (or 88 cents).
• The coffee machine in the Accenture office also dispenses tomato soup.
• My name means 'moon' in Hindi. I knew this before I arrived, but numerous people have felt obligated to inform me.
• Women in sarees can ride comfortably on the back of a motorbike.
• Horns are used signal your presence, not to warn of danger. If you want to visit Delhi, you better get used to the incessant sound of horns.
• You have to look to the right here when crossing streets (imagine that!) in order to avoid being hit! This is really taking some getting used to.
• My English language skills are suffering since I now speak in broken English in order to communicate with the auto-rickshaw and taxi drivers. It seems to be the only way they can understand you.
• Baywatch and Oprah are always on TV and can be viewed at almost any time of day.
• Keeping your hands and feet clean is nearly impossible here. You just get used to being dirty.

Welcome to My First Blog

Since I've been in India for 1 week and 2 days now and have already seen, heard, and even smelled many incredible things that I want to share with you, I've decided to enter the world of blogging. With that said, welcome to my first blog.

Until today, I though New Delhi (where I live and work) was crazy and hectic. That all changed this evening, when I ventured to Old Delhi for the first time with Louise, Elodie, and Marlies. We negotiated prices for bicycle rickshaws, jumped on and headed down Chandni Chowk. The ride was unlike anything I've ever seen. The main street is a sort of crowded bazaar where small shops and vendors packed the sidewalks and people, bikes, cars and animals filled the streets. Dogs, cats, cows, even monkeys mingled with the people. Our cyclist maneuvered through narrow roads and alleyways and delivered us to the Spice Market. I can't imagine riding a bike through these streets, let alone a bike with a cart and two people on it! And all of this for a mere 30 rupees (not even 70 cents)!


We hopped off the rickshaws and wandered around for awhile. Together, we were quite a sight. Four ladies from South Africa, France, Austria and America, respectively, making our way through the crowds and buying fruit, nuts and Diwali boxes along the way. Eventually, we made our way to Jama Masjid and walked through the market there. Naturally, we attracted a lot of stares and gawks, but we managed to ignore the seedy characters and beggars that were constantly pulling at our shirts. Next stop was Karim's, an Indian restaurant that is listed in every guide book and gets rave reviews. It lived up to our expectations and an hour later we emerged stuffed and rehydrated. Our walk back to the car was rather chaotic, so it was quite a relief to return to the relative calm of New Delhi.