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Published: September 14th 2008
Hindware
A rather unfortunate name for a toilet, don't you think? (perhaps the bigger question is, "Why does Mark have a camera in the bathroom??")Lenny is back. He scooted up the wall and behind an air conditioning unit when John, Brad and I arrived home from work the other night. We haven’t seen him since so not sure where he hangs his hat. He could very well still be here but, if that is the case, he is keeping a low profile. Perhaps he took up residence in John’s luggage and went to Canada when John left on Thursday the 4th. I’m not sure who would be more shocked…Lenny or John!!
With John’s departure, Brad and I were down to just the two of us (and perhaps Lenny) but only for two nights. Brenda returned in the wee hours last Sunday morning. She has not been here for three weeks since going home to London for the birth of her third grandson (congratulations to Brenda on becoming a grandmother for the third time to baby Lucas!!). However, she is now back here and raring to go. She is here until December; John is home in London for good.
Because I haven’t made a blog entry in a few weeks, several of you have sent me a note to find out if I am
Dilli Haat
Colourful decoration greets shoppers to the Dilli Haat Marketplace still kicking about and also to find out if we’ve been hit hard by the floods that have ravaged parts of India. Yes, I’m fine (thanks!)…just very busy with work and then doing more work at night when I get home. It makes for long days so the blog hasn’t been foremost on my mind.
As for the floods, we’ve had two very intense wind/rain storms that lasted about a ½ hour each but we are not experiencing the flooding that hit Bihar, a region that is approximately 1000 kms away (south east of New Delhi where we are). The statistics reported in the newspaper are staggering…25.7 million affected, 7.7 million evacuated, 2.8 million displaced staying in camps. Yes, the numbers are staggering but not surprising given what we’ve seen since arriving July 16th. In New Delhi and Noida, there are people EVERYWHERE we look and the infrastructure, while questionable in some parts, simply doesn’t exist in others. And that is just here in New Delhi, India’s capital. While the infrastructure may sustain its residents during the average day, I’m not sure that it would pass during a crisis. Having said that, however, the Indians are resilient and
Scammed
Having my shoe cleaned...AND my pockets cleaned out...at the same time! their strong beliefs combined with determination to overcome any obstacle will see them through any crisis. That is for sure.
We experienced our first Bollywood movie a couple of weeks ago when the students we are teaching arranged for a movie night at the theatre in the Shipra Mall. Bollywood is the term used for the Hindi-language film industry that is based in Mumbai (Bombay). The movie is called “Bachna Ae Haseeno” (loosely translated, it means “Viva Girls”) and is about a guy who has love affairs with three different women over a 12 year span. The story starts out in Switzerland, moves to Mumbai then to Sydney, back to Mumbai, then to Capri and finally back to Sydney. Although the movie is in Hindi, it is not difficult to follow at all. At several points, it takes on a musical flair with very bouncy music that had me moving in my seat (thank goodness the theatre was dark!). In fact, both John and I bought the soundtrack.
The locations are spectacular. Switzerland has always been a country that I thought I would like to visit sometime; the scenery in the movie confirmed it. I wanted to stay
Another ATM visit
We often make stops at ATMs to refill our pockets (shopping, shopping, shopping!!). Most ATMS are manned by a guard with a rifle and only one person is allowed in at a time. This ATM is in Connaught Place. back and watch the credits at the end of the movie to see exactly where in Switzerland the scenes were filmed but, as in most movies, everyone exited as soon as the credits started rolling and I did not want to be left behind. Although, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have worried because prior to the movie, I quietly mentioned to someone that I was going to the washroom before taking my seat. When I returned to the foyer, there were about eight guys all standing there waiting for me!! Word must have spread!! It’s a good thing I didn’t become engrossed in a magazine in the washroom or they might have been waiting a long time!!! It just proves the point once again that Indians are the most gracious and kind people you will find, even when you go to the washroom!
I noticed that my previous blog entries seem to mention washrooms at some point; this blog entry is no different. I certainly don’t have a fascination with washrooms so I can’t really explain why I keep coming back to them when I write but they make for interesting tales. For example, am I the only one who
Picking up some booze in Connaught Place
Most tellers are honest but we really have to pay attention at this liquor store. They sometimes use "funny math" to come up with the total, in their favour of course. finds it ironic that the brand name for the toilets in our apartment is “Hindware”?! And the other day at the office, a butterfly flew out from the toilet paper roll when I reached to grab a few sheets! All I can say is that I am glad I was on the toilet because I just about crapped myself when the colourful creature flitted out!! Also, every public washroom has at least one attendant present at all times...cleaning the mirror over and over and over, wiping the counter over and over and over, mopping the floor over and over and over. Even the tiniest of washrooms has an attendant. I haven’t had to pay to go to the bathroom yet but Brenda and Tara did have to pay to use the ladies washroom one day during one of our tours. Can’t you just see the signs now? ”A POOPEE COSTS A RUPEE!”
The fact that public washrooms have attendants is testament to the fact that labour is cheap here and there is a job for everyone, no matter what. Even the McDonald’s that we went to has garbage bin attendants to take our garbage and put in the bin
McDelivery
McDonalds delivery scooter at Connaught Place for us. Remember the story I told in my first blog about being told NOT to wipe up the floor after I spilled a bit of apple juice? I never learn. On day last week, after finishing my lunch in the canteen, I grabbed a serviette and began to wipe the crumbs from the table in to my hand. “Don’t do that,” instructed one of the students who was sitting beside me. “Some of those crumbs were already there when we sat down and besides, someone will come and wipe the table after we leave. Just leave them”.
Those of you back home probably know too well that our own offices are not always cleaned to our satisfaction but it is the exact opposite here. Young men who look like they should still be in school CONSTANTLY wipe the tops of baffles and desks with a duster…all day long. There is at least one young man whose sole job is to wipe the tiled stairs. All day long he is on his hands and knees wiping dirt from the treads in to a dust pan and cleaning the ledges of the stringers. Up four flights then down four flights.
Then he does it all over again. But, what looks like hard and degrading work is actually not that at all to those who are doing it. It is work that they are proud to do…they are working and it is their job. One could NEVER argue that Indians do not work hard. We see it every day…men and women of all ages doing hard laborious work…and making a difference.
Thanks to my Bell friends in London for giving me a Tilley hat before I left home. It has certainly saved me from the hot sun on many occasions. However, it unexpectedly saved me from something else one day while having lunch at Dilli Haat, a permanent craft market in New Delhi where Indians sell crafts from the various regions in India. Brenda, Brad and I were enjoying a nice Indian lunch while John and Tara continued to meander from stall to stall, looking at wares such as colourful bedding, jewellery and pashminas. Suddenly, I heard a sound that I can only equate to the sound you hear when you flick your earlobe (okay…I’m wondering how many of you just flicked your earlobe…come on, be honest!!!!!!). Anyway, I removed
Brenda bargaining at a marketplace
Brenda never pays full price which saves us $$'s on our grocery bill. my hat and there it was…a fresh plop of bird shit on the rim of my hat. I was so thankful that I had my hat on because being crapped on would have ruined the rest of my day, although it is apparently lucky to be shit on. I’m considering writing to Tilley to let them know that they should include this added benefit in the promo material for their hat.
A Tilley hat, however, would not have saved me from what happened to me a couple of Saturdays ago, no matter how big the hat. Brad, John and I were shopping in the Janpath area of Delhi. Janpath is a tourist’s delight. It is fairly clean with rows of shops selling jewellery, textiles, souvenirs, and paper products. There are the occasional street pedlars who annoy you with the usual, “You want? How much you pay?” but it is nothing compared to the din one would find in the outdoor markets.
Our driver dropped us off at Connaught Place, a shopping complex built by the British in 1931. Its archways and “white” stuccoed colonnades are showing neglect now but it remains to be a popular location for travel agencies,
banks and other stores, including where we buy liquor. It is also where Brad and John visit Airtel to load up on minutes for their India-purchased cell phones.
After Jaswant (pronounced J-swan) dropped us off, we made our way from Connaught Place to the stores on Janpath, a short 10 minute walk away. In order to get to the other side safely, we decided to take the stairs that go down underneath the street and come up the other side. It guarantees a safe crossing without having to dodge cars while praying that other drivers have decided to OBEY the red light and actually stop (most drivers consider stop lights and stop signs as “a suggestion”…and therefore ignore them).
We spent about two hours shopping and then decided to head back to Connaught Place to get some wine and coolers before meeting up with Jaswant. We descended the stairs, past a beggar whose feet were mangled and bound with dirty bandages, and headed toward the stairs to go up and out.
“MISTER, MISTER…DIRTY SHOE!!” Brad and John were about 20 steps ahead of me and I was being yelled at by a dirty and unkempt man pointing to
my shoe. I looked down and sure enough…dirty shoe...a big brown pile of what appeared to be dog shit on the top of my right running shoe (I bought them just prior to leaving London in July so they were still fairly white until now). I immediately shook my leg to get the shit off my shoe while also wondering how it was possible that a dog could shit perfectly on the top of my shoe without me noticing. I had in fact passed a dog JUST as we started to go down the stairs so I thought it wasn’t entirely IMpossible. But did he really back his ass up to my shoe and perfectly place a pile of poop on my shoe???!! Talented! My naivety continued to work against me when I realised that this Good Samaritan also happened to have a makeshift shoeshine stand. I mean, how lucky was I?! A dog shits on my shoe and I just HAPPEN to walk right by a guy who cleans shoes. Wow, getting shit on really IS lucky!!
He quickly motioned me over and asked me to place my foot on his box while he removed my shoe. I
yelled at John and Brad to wait up while I stood there and had my shoe cleaned. The man wiped the remaining shit off with an already dirty rag, squeezed some white gunk on to the top of my shoe and then began brushing like crazy with something that looked like a toothbrush. “Very dirty, very dirty,” he informed me. Yes, thank you for telling me…I can see that. “Very smelly…VERY smelly,” as he picked up the shit covered rag and held it up to me. “YES…I AM FAMILIAR WITH THE SMELL, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!”
He worked and worked at my shoe, adding more white gunk, brushing like crazy, reminding me how smelly it was (hmmm…perhaps he was talking about my feet). “My price 500 Rps,” he casually slipped in as he brushed back and forth (500 Rps is a little more than $10 CDN). I wasn’t about to pay him 500 Rps, although, I wished afterward that I paid him with the 500 counterfeit Rps that I was so generously given by the ATM earlier in the week. This guy had my shoe and a rag with shit on it which he could easily fling at me
Un-stripping
It is often disrespectful to show your knees when entering a temple. Fortunatley, I wore pants with removable legs when we went to Akshardham. Before entering, I pulled out my "legs" and zipped them on. I thought nothing of it until Tara pointed out to me that I was drawing a crowd (not seen in this picture). I guess they have not seen these type of pants in India! if I refused to pay the 500 Rps. What a scam. A SCAM!! THAT’S IT...THIS IS A SCAM!!!! Ahhh…crap (I am not always the sharpest knife in the drawer, partly because I am trusting of others…trusting that a person wouldn’t intentionally do something calculated like this to another person).
I had nothing smaller than a 500 Rps bill on me and this pr*ck wasn’t getting it. John and Brad were still standing on the stairs, keeping their distance from this fiasco...but also taking time to snap a few photos. I yelled at them for some help in financing my predicament and held up two fingers to indicate that I wanted 200 Rps to give to this guy and get the hell out of there. My shoe was already ruined…he was making it worse, not better. John came over and, after much back and forth arguing between John and the “shoe shitter”, John handed over 200 Rps to the guy who then put the shoe back on my foot and laced it up for me. Wow…how kind of him…a real gentleman…tied up my shoe and everything.
I was annoyed for the rest of the day, even more so because
one of the things I wanted to do later in the day was go to Shipra Mall to try on some nice dress shoes that I had seen the night before when we were at the mall to see the movie. We arrived at the mall later in the afternoon and I sheepishly headed for the shoe store. As you know, one of the first things shoe sales people do when you walk in to a shoe store back home is look at the shoes you are wearing. Yeah…just my luck…they do that in India too. It did not take a scholar to read the look on their faces…”We ain’t goin’ near THOSE shoes!” I pretty much did a 360 and headed out of the store. Sigh…
Our apartment complex has a unisex salon at the rear of the pastry shop (yes, you read correctly…at the back of the pastry shop…don’t ask). A men’s haircut costs approximately $2.00 CDN which includes a full head massage that feels awesome! The salon offers a full suite of services including a body massage. I had my first massage there a couple of weeks ago…and it will be my last! I mean, I
certainly didn’t expect that the “masseur” (I am using that term loosely) would be a Registered Massage Therapist (RMT) when the price for a one hour massage only costs $10.00 CDN; however, I thought that professionalism wasn’t an unreasonable expectation.
The massage room was simply a tiny walled area within the salon and had a door in the corner. The masseur asked me what kind of oil I wanted him to use…I chose almond oil. I might as well have showered in the stuff because he slathered me in it, so much so that I feared sliding right off the table! The massage was not great but it wasn’t exactly horrible either. What was annoying though was that he kept going in and out of the room without telling me what he was doing. Sometimes, he would be away for unnecessarily long periods, long considering that I was laying on the table with only a tiny towel draped over my “Hindware”. Luckily, I was wearing my Fruit of the Looms because each time he left the room, he left the door wide open to the salon. At one point, there was a lady and her son in the salon
Scripture
Carefully carved scripture covers the walls of some of the tombs in Lodi Gardens while all of this was going on. I lay there getting more and more annoyed and, every once in a while, I would sit up to see if I could see him. “Uh…HELLO…could you close the door????”
Just to make it more frustrating, I could hear him playing around with some sort of appliance…plugging it in here, plugging it in there, fiddling with a switch the whole time. I wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but I surmised that it was an electrical massager. Unfortunately, he had to call “Technical Support” which turned out to be yet another show for the public. One of the other barbers came in to try the plugs, then some other guy came in. Remember, this is a tiny room so the three of them in there all at once was just too much. I should have charged admission for the show. THAT sign would have said “A PEEKEE FOR A RUPEE”. Eventually, I heard the whirr of what was in fact an electrical massager (ahh yes, definitely not an RMT).
When all was said and done, I felt somewhat okay despite still being basted with almond oil. But I will wait
Resting
A dog takes a nap under a tree in Lodi Gardens. Stray dogs run rampant in India but are not harmful and do not bother people, unless of course they are hungry! until I am back home in Canada before I get another massage. My dignity will thank me.
As for site seeing, we have stayed pretty close to home base. After being advised immediately following the bombings in Ahmedabad in late July to not do any unnecessary travelling, we haven’t ventured far. As well, we were advised to stay in our apartment on Independence Day (Friday, August 15th) because of risk and the pure chaos that traffic would have caused. Also, Brad is waiting until his girlfriend arrives here in December before he visits some of the sites outside Delhi. And quite frankly, the weekends really don’t always allow for quick weekend trips because part of Sunday is used to prepare for the upcoming week. However, now that Brenda is back, we have planned a weekend trip to Rishikesh, a holy city on the Ganges River at the foot of the Himalayan Mountains.
We still visit some of the local sites on weekends. One of the unexpectedly fun sites that we visited is Akshardham in New Delhi. Akshardham is a three year-old Hindu temple complex situated on a 100 acre site and it pays tribute to “10,000 years of
Athpula ("Eight Piers")
Athpula is the 17th-century bridge near the entrance to Lodi Gardens Indian culture… art, values and contributions for the progress, happiness and harmony of mankind.” The site is a photographer’s dream but, alas, we were not allowed to take cameras on the grounds so I had to settle for one picture from the parking lot outside the fence and the rest committed to memory.
Inside, we were greeted by a perfectly executed architectural masterpiece. The sculptures and details are almost too much to take in at once. Two of my favourites that stand out are Mayur Dwar and Gajendra Peeth. Mayur Dwar (Peacock Gates) pays tribute to the peacock, India’s national bird. It would be impossible to count all 869 sculpted peacocks that are part of each of the two gates. The Akshardham Monument rests on Gajendra Peeth. It is 1,070 feet long and “comprises 148 sculpted stone elephants, and dozens of other sculptures of people, animals and birds weighing in excess of 3,000 tons.” I can not begin to describe how detailed and playful these sculptures are. That was one of the moments when I wish I had my camera.
What was unexpected for us was what lay beyond the Monument itself. It seemed like we were transported
from the 1700s to a Disney World-like theme park, albeit minute in comparison. Audio and animation are used to present mankind’s universal values; a giant 85’ by 65’ screen captures an 11 year old’s trek through India in the late 1700’s and early 1800’s; and an indoor boat ride takes its passengers through 10,000 years of India. It is very well done and a memorable highlight.
Part of the 100 acres consists of the Garden of India. The lawns and gardens are a vivid green. Although they aren’t perfectly manicured like you will find in other more-famous gardens in the world, they are a quiet and refreshing change from the noise and grime in some parts outside Akshardham. Meandering paths take visitors past bronze sculptures depicting national figures and celebrated women. The gardens also offer a perfect view of the monument.
Another garden that we visited in New Delhi is Lodi Gardens. The site’s history dates back to the 15th century and is home to tombs of nobles and rulers. Today, the gardens are also home for various species of birds, trees and flowerbeds, even chipmunks (“chippies!”). In fact, my tour book describes Lodi Gardens “as a ‘green
Go Fish
Two friends playing cards in Lodi Gardens lung’ for the people of Delhi”. Like the Garden of India at Akshardham, Lodi Gardens truly is a perfect place to go to get away from the reality of Delhi. We nicknamed Lodi Gardens “Lovi Gardens” because the park lawns and benches were rife with young couples arm in arm. This surprised all of us because anything we read or heard suggested that public displays of affection between couples are not to be seen. But not at “Lovi Gardens”!
Following Lodi Gardens, our driver took us on a quick drive-by of the Parliament buildings before stopping at India Gate. India Gate is a simple but impressive monument that is not to be missed. The gate was built to “commemorate the Indian and British soldiers who died in World War I and those who fell in battle in the North-West Frontier Province and the Third Afghan War. An eternal flame burns in memory of unknown soldiers who died in the 1971 Indo-Pakistan War”. We had seen it many times from our van on previous trips in to Delhi but those sightings were nothing compared to actually seeing it up close. In many ways, it reminds me of The Arc de
Triomphe in Paris, yet it is unique in its own way.
At India Gate, we were not immune to the constant begging of children. Having been here for eight weeks now, I am completely unsympathetic and intolerant of their persistent and manipulative ways. I’ve even tried completely ignoring them and not being polite but to no avail. One day, I was so p-o’d at one girl tapping the window of the van that I gave her the one-finger salute. I’m not proud of it…but I don’t care. She stopped, looked at my finger, looked up at me in silence and then continued to tap on the window of the van. AHHHHHH! On one occasion, Brad put down his window and gave a girl, not any more than seven or eight years old, 2 Rps for doing a little dance number on the street. She told him her little dance would cost him 10 Rps. I should note that this took place on one of the VERY FEW occasions that our driver chose to stop at a red light…a long red light at that! Brad ignored her for a little while but then gave her five more Rps. She looked
Playing cricket
Cricket was introduced by the British and is now a national obsession for India. This is the closest I\'ve come to cricket, other than the one that scooted out from one of my shoes in my bedroom the other day (!!) at the five additional Rps, shook her fist at him and cursed him, then stomped off to find her next victim!! Last Monday we (WHITE PEOPLE!!) were swarmed by beggars at lunch time. They tapped our arms, pulled on our clothing and nattered to us. Ignoring them didn’t work. Yelling at them didn’t work. Swearing at them didn’t work. Even after we finally got in the car, they practically chased us as we drove through the parking lot. Craziness.
During class, I sometimes give the students a break from the dry material and set aside time to talk about something NOT related to work. One day, Mayank said, “Tell us more stories about your experience in India”. Swati piped up and said, “Tell us GOOD stories.” I had been telling the class about some of the funny things that have happened (like the dog poop story and the pigeon in my shower window) which they thoroughly enjoyed but they also wanted to hear about the good things from my perspective. Despite some of the harsh reality that can’t be ignored, there are certainly many good things. I told them that I appreciate how colourful and lush India is. I
related stories of seeing hard work payoff with definite results. And foremost, I told them how wonderful and warm Indians are. Mayank later told me that it is very important for Indians to treat guests in their country with respect. There is no questioning that.
We also talked about relationships, marriage, death, traditions…and the meaning of their names. Each of their names has meaning, like “Moon”, “Pride”, “White”, “Polite”, “Happiness” and “Ruby”. In some States, a person can have a name that includes their village’s name, paternal grandfather’s name and father’s name. Mine would be Mark Staffa Wilbur Russell Miller. What would your name be?
Next Saturday, Brad, Brenda and I are hosting the students at our apartment for an afternoon and evening of swimming, movies, games and food. We sent each of them an electronic-invite and they are very excited…not one has declined. I was not in the office Thursday afternoon or all day Friday because I was not feeling well but Brenda told me that they were all huddled together as if to be having a meeting about something important. The topic? The party!!...and what the driving arrangements would be!! They have even asked that we
Just another day on the way to work...
During one foggy (or is that smoggy) morning, we passed these mules. They clopped along the road in perfect unison. serve “Canadian” food. Brad is making macaroni salad and Brenda is making potato salad. I am making a recipe that I learned a long time ago and it has always been a hit at these kinds of functions…ice.
Sunday, September 14, 2008 - The above blog material has actually been several weeks in the writing. At one point, I reference the July bombings in Ahmedabad, southwest of Delhi. We were placed on travel restrictions at that time and advised to only travel within the local area.
Last night, a string of bombings hit New Delhi, claiming approximately 20 lives and injuring many others. One of those locations was Connaught Place, the marketplace that I mention above. Brad, Brenda and I had been out for most of the day and were finishing up our day by doing some shopping in the Janpath area (Brenda had not been to this area yet). Jaswant dropped us off at Janpath and we told him we would walk to Connaught Place and meet him at our usual meeting spot outside the Airtel store.
While strolling along Janpath, we heard a blast. Each of us looked up as it was clearly something unusual
but I think we had become somewhat comfortable in our surroundings again since the last travel restrictions because we never questioned it and carried on with our shopping. Certainly, none of the shopkeepers or other shoppers seemed to pay it any mind.
Oddly enough, we had a change of mind about meeting Jaswant at Connaught Place and called him to come back and pick us up where he dropped us off. It was when we got in to the van that he told us about the bombings. The one we heard was only two short blocks away.
We are fine but last night's bombings are a sobering reminder that we are working in an unstable country, that some of that instability is right around the corner…and that I can’t wait to utter the words “Home Sweet Home”.
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kpoulton
Ken Poulton
Glad to see you have time...
Hi Guys, As you go on about your adventures in Wonderland, don't forget about us back home. We would love to hear from you and keep posting more pics. Dismissals are running rampant and its not over yet. Hope to see you all when you get back. Say Hi! to Brenda for me. She will know who this is by the email address... Ken