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I arrived in Delhi at stupid o'clock (2am), and was immediately overwhelmed by the heat. At this point, I would like to state that I am still trying to figure out what the hell possessed me to travel to India in Summer. Stupido, stupido! The hostel I stayed at was by far the worst hostel I have stayed at on the trip. Rude staff. Rude, rude. At breakfast - the room consisted of only Indian men - two of who turned their chairs to stare at me eating. Sigh. After breakfast I walked out of the hostel only to encounter another staring experience - this time by a 40cm tall ... monkey. He was sitting on a fence, watching me at eye level, only a few centimeters away. This scared the bageeesus out of me, and I let out a very girly squeel. :-)
At the bus stop, the men were again staring, so I stood behind the bus stop roof thing, but they simply walked behind to look. I'd had enough, so I walked the 3km to the metro, since I'd rather walk than be stared at. Along the way, I saw locals playing cricket on a round-a-bout. Cute.
The metro is very good, clean and tourist friendly.
With my bottle of vodka and Lying Planet in hand (I'd started taking a shot of vodka after each main meal so as not to repeat my Mexican experience), I made my way to the Main Bazaar. This I was later told, is the worst place for a woman walking alone. The men (there were always only men around) would walk past me, very close, suddenly swinging their arms and 'accidentally' grab my bum or knock my boob. Or they would take a step forward or back when I walked past to do the same. Downright degrading (I later read in the Lying Planet that this happens).
At this point, I'd like to state that I know I am being incredibly negative here, but my patience is low, and it's flippin hot, I'm drinking up to 4 litres of water a day, the men touch me, we're all sweaty and I'm sick of them asking stupid questions and then trying to rip me off.
Lalit, a nice local I befriended in New York, then came on his golden horse wearing his golden heart and rescued me. (Actually it
was his black motorbike - I looooove riding on motorbikes). He showed me just about every sight in Delhi, and I wasn't harrassed anymore. He explained a lot about India. He told me that every 100km the language changes, and the Indians can't understand each other. He explained about arranged marriages, when we went for a coffee at a Starbucks equivalent, he explained that the section closed off with a glass wall was not for smokers, but for a boy and girl to meet (under the watchful eye of the mother) and allow them to talk for 30 minutes, while the mother goes for a walk. He showed me the President's (a woman) house, the parliament, and the India gate surrounded by parks with many locals picnicing and playing cricket.
Autorickshaws are to India as yellow cars are to New York. They are everywhere zipping around each corne, not to mention beeping their horn, or simple putting their hand on the horn for the duration of the journey. The next day, I had a humbling conversation with an Afghani lady about arranged marriages, deaths and becoming a woman. She couldn't understand what goes on with pre-mariatal sex in the
western society, and kept asking: 'but what happens when the man finds out that she is already a woman? She won't be able to marry if she is already a woman.' She informed that there are many cases of the man's family killing the new wife or of suicide.
I decided to get the hell of out Delhi, and bought a ticket for Pushkar. I made my way to where I thought the bus stop was, at 9pm. This involved taking a metro there and then walking, in absolute darkness, through streets lined with rubbish (as everywhere in Delhi), cows and horses (again as anywhere in India), homeless people laying any and everywhere on the streets, I had to be careful not to trip over them since I couldn't see where I was going ... and then being harrassed by men with their 'Rickshaw madam? Where you from Madam, which nationality, where you going madam?' And they would touch me. I couldn't find my way, and it was hot. My top was drenched from the sweat, and my backpack was heavy. I got lost and I didn't know where I was going. There were dogs everywhere, and they would
Lotus Temple
Ahhh, bliss. bark as I walked past - I was afraid of getting bitten, I was scared of what would happen in this unlit area.
Eventually I saw the bus. Before I could think, I noticed that without realising, I had turned around and was walking back to the Metro. My subconscious had told me to get the hell out of that surrounds and I made my way back to the hostel. I will never forget this experience, I have never been this afraid. I didn't end up going to Pushkar, but I didn't care.
The next day I spent walking around the Bazaars, braving the stupid questions being constantly asked. 'I'll take you to a tourist office' (of course you will), 'I truly want to help you' (of course you do). I was sick of being lied to from all sides. People were just out to get the tourists, since we were all just walking dollar signs. I ran from KFC to McDonalds constantly to escape being harrassed. Even in the hostel, one Indian guest wouldn't let me to my room, because he wanted to ask me about my country. When I ignored him, he knocked at my door
for 5 minutes. What kind of place IS THIS!
The day after, thank goodness, I met Felipe from Brazil and Luis from Mexico. (Poor Felipe, he sat at my table at breakfast, and because I thought he was Indian, I gave him the u-l-i-m-a-t-e cold shoulder. I'm so sorry Felipe!) They were my angels. They made me laugh, and they bargained for all the autorickshaws, and we spent the day going to temples and Lodi Park. They had the funniest stories to tell ... I had the best time :-) The next day, again I decided to get out of Delhi and booked a train to Amritsar. It was a nice journey.
On my first day in Delhi - I was asked (as always) which country I was from. Seeing as I later learned about the incident in Vienna, I quickly became Russian, and then changed to Swiss, since nothing ever happens there anyway. However, being Swiss has its disadvantages: Little did I know that tourists were being asked which country they were from in order for the cunning #$%!? to set the benchmark on their prices on this fact. If you are Isreali the prices stay quite
low, and if you are Swiss the sky rocket.
I also learned that it is a mistake to haggle for the price of rickshaws BEFORE you get on. Just get in, and then pay what you deem as fair after you get off.
Trivia: Bit of trivia for you - when in McDonald's the TV stated a 'fact' - that in a lifetime, a driver would honk an average of 15,200 times .... hahahahahaha - not in DELHI!
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