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Published: January 31st 2010
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Once I got outside the bubble that we were in on the work part (basically bouncing between very nice hotels for the conference, for dinner), I started to see another side of India that I had heard so much about: chaos, poverty, dirt, trash. But there were beautiful scenes mixed in, with a lot of human touches. We drove by bus from New Delhi/Gurgaon to Agra, and we started to see (from inside our safe tourist bus) things that make me incredibly grateful for all that I have. Inside New Delhi, people living in tents, children dirty and begging, coming up to the car windows, tapping on them, and begging for food, money, water, anything. I was driven back to New Delhi by myself in a car, and so I was a bit more up close and personal with these experiences than the large bus allowed. People would see me in all my American-ness, see my big, nice camera, and relentlessly tap the window, beg for something, anything. It’s truly heartbreaking. A mom and baby daughter, at the window at a stoplight. “Please ma’am, please.” Bowing her head, telling her daughter to bow her head (she knows how to beg at
the age of about one). This happened about 5-6 times during the two drives, but this mom and daughter impacted me most, bringing tears to my eyes.
Despite how incredible the visuals were, it was intriguing to see this side of life that happens along the side of the road. People are people, and everyone must get up in the morning, eat some food, do whatever it is they do to get that food. There weren’t apartment complexes or solid structures. Sometimes tents, sometimes mud-thatched little structures (one such little natural hut even had a “for rent” sign on it!), but people going about their daily routines. Cleaning the pathways with hand-made brooms, cooking up food on fires built on the ground, women (yes, mostly women) carrying anything you could think of atop their heads: baskets, bricks, branches, fruit, bulging sacks with unknown items within. Roadside little “barber shops” with chairs and men getting haircuts. People bathing right there. A woman washing her long hair. Men in a circle smoking a hookah. Men lounging on these little bed/hammock like structures - a wooden frame with ropes interwoven to make a comfortable place to lie. Cigarette smoking. Kids in school
uniforms making their way through the chaos to school with their little backpacks and holding hands. I think every school in India must require uniforms because I saw all kinds, all ages in varying uniforms. That part made me smile and gave me hope.
And the animals! So what they say is true: cows are sacred in India. They do not eat them. They care for them as pets, feed them, put blankets over them at night to keep them warm. Some are kept tied up literally as a sort of pet, others just wander wherever they want. And I do mean wherever. In New Delhi in the city, you might just see a cow lumbering along the side of the road, perhaps into the road. And that was certainly true in the smaller villages and rural parts. Everyone lets the cow do whatever. I saw one woman brushing a cow, like I might sit and brush my cat. A big white bird sitting atop a big brown sleeping cow. Cows sleeping. Cows eating food prepared for them. Cows eating trash. I think the cows are furrier in India than in America, but I suppose one could say my
experience with cows is a bit limited!
And what other animals? Well in Delhi on a major highway, I suddenly realize that I’m seeing a fleet of about 12 camels with riders, riding right on the highway going in the opposite direction. What!?! It happened so fast, but it happened. Saw other camels being used to haul loads. Saw one peacock sitting on a wall in a small village, and later saw two peacocks out in a green field. Peacocks in real life! Inside New Delhi noticed something in the brush, and realized it was a huge pig and a ton of little baby pigs, rooting around in the debris. Goats, lots of goats. Countless stray dogs. A few cats. Black birds with grey heads and long yellow beaks. Monkeys. Monkeys on leashes and sitting on sticks that people held up to our bus (and then wanted money since I took a picture). Monkeys all over Agra in the town, on the tops of buildings and walls. Monkeys in the trees along the road in the rural parts.
Did I mention the smog yet? I don’t think I did. Well, wow. Smog/fog/smoke, whatever you want to call it.
In the mornings in Delhi, the smoke would be so thick that visibility was like 3 feet. And it smelled smoky. I read in the paper that January 2010 had the worst levels of fog (they call it fog) in a decade, and it was possible that in the remaining few days in January, that they would surpass their all-time record. They measured it in terms of how many flights where canceled and delayed, and how much money that cost. Thank goodness the evening of my flight was decent. The day-time would burn a lot of it away, but come dusk through until around 11am, it was crazy foggy.
Excessive beauty is a term that crossed my mind more than once. The colors of women’s saris were just awesome. So many colors and varying shades: red, green, pink, fuchsia, purple, gold, silver, sequins, blue, turquoise. The women really held the market on color; the men mostly wore browns and greys. Most everyone covered their heads with some sort of scarf or turban. This held true even in the little roadside “villages,” in the country, in the city.
And the colors painted on trucks, buses, walls, buildings. Most brick
walls would be painted with Hindi script or designs. It seemed a very artistic place to me because of all the painting. Almost every truck would have an elaborate and colorful design painted on the back with the words “Horn Please” or “Blow Horn.” This means, when you are passing me, blow your horn so I know it. Well, no worries there! Horns were blowing non-stop. Horns that sound like horns, horns that play songs, horns that sound like little melodies. A regular cacophony of sounds.
And this leads me to the driving. Oh my! Now I’ve been a lot of places and seen a lot of chaotic driving, and maybe India is no worse than Bangkok or Manila or the other places that I felt safety was an afterthought, but I have to say that it seemed even crazier here. There may be slight little nudges, but with all the cars and trucks and bicycles and motorbikes and “tuk-tuks”, the fact that there aren’t wounded people lying everywhere is simply a miracle. All of these drivers/riders would regularly go off-road to avoid whatever it was they didn’t like ahead. My driver did it more than once to get
around some traffic he didn’t like. So we just bumped along in the dirt and rocks for a while. OK, but that definitely wouldn’t fly in Atlanta.
I hope the photos help tell the story...please note that all photos except one or two were taken from a moving vehicle through the window!
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Mary Greene
non-member comment
Thanks
Makes you appreciate the USA, doesn't it? I was surprised you didn't include at least one of the Taj Mahal. But, what you show is more realistic.