Around the World: Arriving in New Delhi

February 17, 1992

Arrived at the station in plenty of time for the late night train from Jaipur to Delhi.  Attempts to reserve a seat only produced a wild goose chase to locate someone willing and/or capable to complete such a task.  I did get a thorough tour of Jaipur's railway station, as I was sent upstairs and downstairs and to this window and that one, where I met every single station employee that was not authorized to reserve anything for anyone.

When the train did pull into the station, it was clear that the only way to get a reservation on this train was to just get on. Claire and I ran the length of the train along the platform looking for a car with any available space without luck.  At the last car, the engine's whistle blows, indicating the train is ready to leave the station, but trying to get into the packed car is impossible. There just isn't any space that allows both of us to get into the car wearing backpacks.  Out of time, I quickly suggest a plan.  I'll get on, Claire will pass me both packs and then Claire will board.

As Claire tosses me the second pack, the train begins pulling out of the station.  She runs to keep up the with the train while I extend my arm to help her get on.  Two other passengers take hold of me as Claire grabs onto my arm and leaps for the door.  She lands in the car a bit off balance, but is steadied by three more passengers.  Once she is safely aboard, I survey the car for somewhere to settle for the trip.  Our hasty selection of this particular car comes with both bad and good news.  Respectively, the car we have chosen is beyond capacity full, and entirely by women.

Somehow, the five women who assisted us in boarding rearrange themselves to make a small area for Claire and I to sit.  Many of the passengers are sleeping on and against others who are curled up together under shared shawls, feeding infants or sitting quietly.  I soon find my shoulder is someone's support and my thigh is another woman's pillow.  Claire and I use our stacked packs to share a place to rest our heads for the journey.  There's a respectable sense of sisterhood among this group of women; we are all in this together.

I wake up from an unplanned nap just after sunrise to find the train about half an hour away from arriving in New Delhi.  The parallel rails are covered with people claiming whatever treasures they can find along the tracks.  A line of women are perched along one of the rails, bathing in a murky puddle.  Memory flashes back to the impoverished slums of Bombay and I wonder what other cruel fates of human existence reside in a metropolis the size of Delhi.

Railway slum between Jaipur and Delhi
Photo by Navid Baraty

Outside the train station, Claire and I are surrounded by a small mob of rickshaw drivers and beggars.  The crowd is screaming to us, demanding our money for either an offered service or just because and still coming closer.  Claire leans her head closer to my ear and says, "Wonder Woman!"  I know exactly what she means.  Both of us, wearing backpacks, start spinning on the spot and manage to knock most of the unwelcome crowd away.  Of the few brave enough to remain or wise enough to back up, is a rickshaw wallah offering a good price.

Shortly into the trip, I am convinced that one of us may have bumped him a little too hard.

This rickshaw driver appears to be aiming for road worthy targets. After he crunched over a parked bicycle, he started aiming for random pedestrians.  He even tried to hit a cow!  With his mouth full of betel nut, he tries repeatedly to convince us to go to another hotel.  Since neither of us can understand him, we just keep hollering in response, "Sunny's Guest House!"

Sunny's Guest House is relatively clean, pleasant and convenient, even though it has that self renovated look about it.  I'm pretty sure the walls of my windowless room are some form of cardboard.  The only source of daylight is from a tiny hole cut in a corner to let a small fan circulate air.  It has a bed and a door I can lock.  The common area is the top side of the roof that shelters the ground floor office and patio.  This overhanging part of the second floor has a bit more grade on it that there probably should be.  It's full of travelers that are either just arriving or soon leaving.

Outside Sunny's Guest House
Photo by Trip Advisor

The next flight on my itinerary is from Bombay to Dubai, United Arab Emirates.  I am less than thrilled about taking the train back to Bombay.  The reviews of Dubai vary, depending on the gender of the person I speak to.  Several female travelers report a negative experience, usually involving unwanted attention from the local men for displaying benign body parts (ankle, knee, arm).

From Dubai, I would then have to make my way overland to Bahrain.  This means crossing the border into Saudi Arabia, a place I will have difficulty traveling through without a male escort.  There's a lot about this trip that isn't sitting well with me, a foreboding feeling I have learned is wise to pay attention to.  

The original RTW route.

There is a plentiful selection of alternative destinations between here and London.  I'm just not comfortable moving over land through this part of the world.  I'm learning that I don't tolerate men who disrespect women terribly well, and my limited knowledge of the Middle East suggests that there are parts where women are barely tolerated at all.  I refuse to accept being treated like property, or at the very least inferior, simply because I am female.  I have a feeling this attitude could become a serious problem.

New Delhi's Connaught Place is a cornucopia of airline offices that I hope will be able to get me from here to London, and hopefully, without getting me into serious trouble along the way.

• ¤ •

A woman is like a tea bag.  It's only when she's in hot water that you realize how strong she is.

~Eleanor Roosevelt

Around the World: Jaipur

February 16, 1992

Claire and I set out after breakfast to explore the interesting sights around Jaipur, also known as the "pink city".  Many of the buildings within the old walled city of Jaipur are constructed from sandstone, giving the structure a distinctive pink hue. One of the most famous buildings is the Hawa Mahal, or "Palace of the Winds".

It was originally built so that ladies of the royal house could watch the day to day events of the city without being seen from the street. When Queen Victoria and Prince Albert visited the city in 1876, the city was given a refreshing coat of pink to welcome the royal couple.

Hawa Mahal (Palace of the Winds)

Not far from the Palace of the Winds is the enormous City Palace.  Construction started in the early 1700's and additions continue to be added.  Currently, the grounds of City Palace include several palaces, pavilions, gardens and temples.  The pavilion on top of the Peacock Gate entrance offers magnificent views of the city and the surrounding hills.

City Palace

Next to the entrance to the City Palace is the Jantar Mantar Observatory.  The observatory contains fourteen astronomical instruments built by Jai Singh, the founder of Jaipur for which the city is named.  Inspired by his passion for astronomy, Jai Singh started construction on the observatory after sending scholars abroad to study at foreign observatories.  Each structure has a specific purpose, whether it's measuring the position of the stars, the declination of planets or calculating eclipses.  The sundial's enormous gnomon casts a shadow that moves 1mm per second and is accurate within 2 seconds in calculating Jaipur local time. That's amazing in itself, and especially in a country where the majority of people speak a language that has the same word for tomorrow and yesterday.

 Jantar Mantar translates literally as "calculating instrument"

Jai Singh used his knowledge of and fascination with astronomy in his plan to lay out the city of Jaipur, combined with the principles of "Shilpa-Shastra", an ancient Hindu guide to art and architecture.  The result is a geometric marvel of city planning, where wide avenues running East-West are regularly intersected by streets that travel North-South. 

Broad, straight streets are great for strolling along while browsing the shop windows, however, Claire and I quickly discovered that some Indian men find it appropriate to sample what they shouldn't be touching.  My rear is certainly getting well inspected.

The first "touch and go" came from a crafty individual who was wise enough not to stick around.  The second guy, however, left his hand unattended long enough for me to grab it.  Bending his wrist back, I shoved him into an empty space among the mob of people traveling the opposite way.  The third guy was just a victim of bad order and he discovered what a full body hip check feels like as he toppled over the metal rail that separates the sidewalk from the road. 

Typical Jaipur traffic.
Photo by Georgia Popplewell

The traffic in Jaipur is the most interesting I've seen in India yet.  Buses, rickshaws, cars, bicycles, and elephants are all perfectly acceptable modes of transportation.  My favourite was the camel-drawn carriage moving along the street at a leisurely pace.  The driver, who really is more of an unwilling passenger, is trying what he can to speed the camel up and having absolutely no success.  Using this sort of vehicle, it is important to understand that the camel goes where it wants, when it wants to and it knows there ain't a dang thing anybody gonna do about it.

Photo by Lee Harrison

A shop in the market had a display of gorgeous marble boxes.  I would have bought one, but the shopkeeper wouldn't budge from his asking price of 900 Rs.  That's $36 and a lot of money to spend on a trinket in India. When I walked out of the store, I came face to face with a bull with very large horns.  It took a step towards me and I backed up into a narrow alley.  It took another step toward me and when I saw an opportunity, I leaped past its head and out of the alley.  Once I found myself behind the bull, Claire and I just kept going. 

Stray cows out for a stroll.
Photo by Manfred Leiter

On the way back to the hostel, we stumble upon a "beer store", which is three guys sitting behind a large cooler under a sort of carport-like shanty.  Claire and I ask if they have beer.  The three men bobble their heads and say a few humorous things to each other in Hindi.  One of them opens the freezer and pulls out a large bottle of what we think could quite possibly be beer.  On the label is a drawing of a man's face that bears a striking resemblance to John Lennon.  We ask for one bottle each and head back to the hotel to sample our liquid treasure.

For the record, I won't be buying any more beer while I'm in India.

• ¤ •

"The more I see the less I know for sure."

~John Lennon

Around the World: Bar Hoping in Jaipur

February 15, 1992

The early afternoon train journey from Agra to Jaipur is expected to be around four hours.  As I am walking through the station toward the platform, I hear a familiar voice.

"Can you spare 5 rupees?"  It's the same drug-dazed Westerner I saw in Varanasi, clad in the same bright green, yellow and red clothing.  Is he following me?

On the train, I meet three British guys, one of whom entertains everyone with tales of trying to cause the demise of Bluey, his sister's prized budgie. Except for the sister, the bird and members of the household share a mutual detest of each other.  His father had read that a sudden shock would stop the bird's heart.  Ever since, father and son take every opportunity to covertly frighten the bird into death, so far unsuccessfully.

The Evergreen hotel is 120 Rs for a room with unlimited cold water.  Hot water is available for 10 Rs per bucket.  The war between soapy water and the constant cloud of airborne dust makes showering a pointless activity.  I seem to always be the same shade of grime, whether I'm fresh from the bathroom or returning from a day spent outside.

The hotel has a large covered outdoor area to enjoy a breeze while eating something from the hotel's restaurant.  It's now early evening and as I'm looking up local sights in my guidebook, I meet Claire, from South Africa and also new in town.  The British guys from the train plan to investigate the bar up the road and invite us to join them for a drink.

A drink?  In India?  This, I have to see.

Sure enough, just up the road from the Evergreen is a sign that says, "Bar and Restaurant."  A little further down a winding path is another sign, this one with the same words and an arrow.  The signs remind of the Road Runner cartoons and I half expect Wile. E Coyote to greet us when we get to the entrance. We follow the "Way to Bar ->" signs into a room with bench seating.  A casually dressed employee tells us the bar is closed.  Thinking some may enjoy a drink with a meal, we follow the "Way to Restaurant ->" signs upstairs to a room that looks like it was imported from a trendy area of New York.  Waiters dressed in tuxedos, perfectly pressed white napkins and tablecloths under spotless glass and silverware. 

We order 5 beers and are told, "The bar is closed, but this can be arranged for 32 Rs."  We sit at a table and wait for our drinks, but all we eventually get is a head bobbling apology.  I think the head bobble is a sign of confusion; the more difficult the question is to answer, the more intense the head bobbling is.  Two waiters come to our table, their heads bobbling dangerously close to toppling off their shoulders.  One waiter says, "No beer," while the other communicates through charades, something about a bicycle and a kingfisher.

Hoping for a beer in India proves to be the activity of the dreamer.  Claire wants to check out the Palace of the Winds, while I would like to see the Jantar Mantar Observatory tomorrow so we have agreed to do a little sight seeing together.

• ¤ •

"Without question, the greatest invention in the history of mankind is beer. Oh, I grant you that the wheel was also a fine invention, but the wheel does not go nearly as well with pizza."

~Dave Barry