Our one and only full day in the capital of India began as most do these, with a 7am phone alarm. Our tour wouldn't start for another couple of hours, so we had plenty of time to do some laundry and have some breakfast. Of course the room phones didn't work, so Nadine ventured downstairs to order room service and was greeted by no less than 30 Indians milling around the lobby. What on earth they were doing there at 8am is anybody's guess.
Nadine placed an order of an unnamed Indian dish along with the ever reliable combo of bread, butter, and jam,
Since the breakfast took the better part of an hour to arrive, we were now late. In India the concept of time differs from ours. Everything and everyone is late anyway.
Because our room had one locked door and one door without a lock, we were forced into bringing with us our electronics, passports, and cash, but left our big bags with clothes. Preferably we would not like to carry all of our valuables with us in public, but we weighed our options and thought it best.
Waiting for us in the lobby was our private tour driver for the day, a man who introduced himself as "Bob Lee, but please call me Bob." Clearly that's not the real spelling, and probably not his real name, but we didn't inquire further so we're sticking with "Bob."
Prior to exploring the main city sights, Bob dropped us off at the tour company office in order for us to receive our city map and pay the fees for the tour. As seasoned travelers, we could feel a sales pitch of some sort coming, because there is no good reason why Bob could not have done this himself. Sure enough, we were led to a secluded office with a passive aggressive salesman who tried to pressure us into purchasing second class train tickets to Agra for 6,000 rupees ($85), even though the official Indian government website showed first class tickets for 700 rupees ($10). He claimed it was impossible for tourists to buy tickets at the train station, we couldn't do it online either because we were tourists, and the reservation center was closed because it was Sunday. All lies. Oh, and we were misinformed and uneducated, then laughed when we told him we can figure things out alone. Things ended when we swiftly and rudely circled a few places on the city map and told us these sites are where Bob would be driving us to, as well as walking inside with us and providing some context. When we told Bob what had happened, he played innocent and said he hears this sort of complaint often, and as an independent guide, does not like working with this particular company often for this reason. Neither of us believed him, but gave him the benefit of the doubt for now.
Our first stop was the Red Fort, followed, where Bob suggested we rent a tuk tuk (rickshaw), which he would gladly arrange for us at a price of 600 rupees. Apparently this part of town was dangerous and tourists are frequently mugged in broad daylight. The day before we rented a tuk tuk for 50 rupees for a 4 kilometer ride, so we more or less are familiar with the going rate. From the Red Fort to the Bazaar to the Jama Masjid mosque was a bit over 1 kilometer, so 600 rupees was clearly a rip off. It was at this point where we knew the whole thing was a set up. The manager at the hotel, the tourism office, and Bob, you lovable snake. We knew beforehand 1,000 rupees for the day was too much as it is, but we were willing to pay it anyway because it was convenient and easy. Their goal was to squeeze out every penny they could from their wealthy western tourists. For an hour we strolled around the main sites, dismissing the inevitable street vendors hawking their goods. At no point did we feel the slightest bit unsafe or uneasy. Bob was officially a liar.
Although not as gross as Mumbai, New Delhi is not much better in terms of the amount of trash everywhere. What once must have been a beautiful pond in front of the biggest mosque in India, the Jama Masjid, was now a garbage pita, an infested cesspool of both human and animal feces.
As Americans, we come from a culture where there is a general awareness of the treatment of the earth, somewhat limited plastic usage, regular discussion of climate change, and a fundamental shit-giving of the world as a whole. On our way back to the car, we spoke about how it appears that certain politicians in the states appear to use the climate change issue for their own personal gain or advancement. We have been told that the world is coming to an end in 12 years. America has been criticized for leaving the Paris Agreement, even though not a single one of the major industrialized countries have reached the targets for emission reductions, or have even implemented their pledged policies. This was the same week a Swedish teenage emotionally and dramatically lectured the United Nations about climate justice and how the future of our children is being stolen by our inability to act. Of course this was done on American soil, where free speech is tolerated. The image of climate activists sending this autistic white European girl to India or China is rather humorous. Her pleas would fall on deaf ears. Only because the adults don't seem to have any answers to the problems of climate change, rather they pawn out children, who are not expected to have answers, therefore the relevant questions aren't even asked. This is how climate change and the treatment of the earth is weaponized. A-listers and politicians hypocritically fly and cruise on private jets and yachts to attend climate summits. Meanwhile, in India and China, mum's the word. We are trending in the right direction in America, for the most part. It's hard to say the same for India, and especially China.
Back to Bob and our Old Delhi tour. After we returned from our "dangerous" walk, Bob took us to Gandhi’s Tomb. We entered free of charge, which is uncommon in India, and made our way to the center of the giant park. To approach the tomb, we were required to remove our shoes and leave them at the check in counter. Only after being hissed at by a security guard did we acquiesce, choosing to keep our shoes in our bags, lest they get stolen at the counter. (WHERE IS GANDHI).
The next stop was the most iconic spot in Delhi, the Baha'i Lotus Temple. We are familiar with the Baha'i religion since the governing body, and majestic gardens, are in Haifa, Israel, a place we have visited several times. The Lotus Temple is a magnificent structure, an architectural masterpiece, surrounded by beautiful gardens and vast spaces of delicately manicured grass. It's the perfect place to escape the hustle and bustle of Delhi city life.
While it is near impossible to find a strip of pavement without trash on it, we visited several parks and structures that are near spotless. One would be hard-pressed to find a single blade of grass in Mumbai or Delhi. One the other hand, millions upon millions of rupees have been spent on a garden and tomb for Gandhi, who probably would have preferred to allocate those funds elsewhere. There are sick and poor Indians left and right, but the money is spent on parks which are not publicly accessible. Take one step onto the grass and the securities guards will come running within seconds. It does not appear from our brief time here that the Indian government cares a great deal about the well being of its citizens.
We knew that sooner or later Bob would slip and show us his true colors. We were destined to get cheated; we just didn't know how or when...nor did we care. The 1,000 rupees had already been paid, and unless someone was going to physically rob us, we had no intentions of opening our wallets again, and we didn't. It was now 13:00, and we had been on the road for 3 hours, since we spent the first hour in the tourism office. Bob was telling us that our tour was nearly finished. Funny, since the night before the hotel manager Raj said we would have a driver until 19:00. We were also told that the guide would accompany us to each site, which hadn't happened, and we could choose which sites we wanted to visit, which also hadn't happened. We pulled out the map and showed Bob the other places we wanted to see. He was dumbfounded. For each place he had another BS reason why he would not take us to those places, each reason dumber than the previous one. "You aren't able to see the minaret from the outside. There is no parking at the tomb. The mosque is outside of the limits I am allowed to drive." It was a total crock. We forced him to take us to the minaret, which was, as we suspected, sure enough visible from the outside. At this point we had enough and called him out. Realizing he had been outed, he pulled over the on the side of the road and started lecturing us about we don't know anything, uninformed, same crap as the guy from the tourism office. We told him what we think of Raj, the tourism office, and him, and somehow came to a mutual understanding that they were all just trying to bilk money from us. He gave us a last ditch offer to personally drive us to Agra for 8,000 rupees, a ridiculous price and a stupid offer considering how our day had gone. Once he realized he wasn't getting anything more from us, somehow the rest of the tour was better. We went into a Hindi temple, drove past the parliament building, saw the India Gate from afar, and even stopped by a sleazy market that sells grossly overpriced traditional Indian garb, spices, and oils. Typical tourist trap. At this point Bob was exposed, so he admitted that he gets commission for anything we bought, and that he gets points for even taking his guests there to begin with.
Finally, we told him we were hungry and just wanted to be done with everything. He told us he knew of a great place near our hotel, and no, he does not get commission for it. He said this would be haram, which in Islamic law means forbidden. Since Nadine has Turkish roots, this is a familiar concept to her. It is the basically opposite of kosher living style. Knowing we are hungry, and food is a necessity, taking us a restaurant where he would profit would be considered haram.
We give Bob an undeserved 200 rupee tip, shook hands, and said our goodbyes.
AFTER we said goodbye, Bob then walked us inside to the host, waited with us until we received menus, and eventually offered a table. He asked if he could now leave, which was odd, since we had already had this encounter no more than two minutes ago. When the menu arrived, we realized why we walked us in. The prices were exorbitant. 100% he wanted to be seen in order to get commission. Haram!
Goodbye Bob, and good riddance.
Our last stop was the train station to see if we could buy tickets. On the 10 minute walk from the restaurant, no less than five people tried to sell us tickets by saying that we could buy them from the station, only by private companies. It was the same crap that Bob and Co. told us. Surprise Surprise. The station was open. But first, before entering the station, there was one final attempt at scamming us. A group of ten Indians said we were forbidden from even entering the train station unless we had tickets. One of them even pulled out an Indian Government ID card to validate his claims. Then the line was crossed. The man with the ID card grabbed Nadine's arm and physically pulled her back from entering the station. Ben saw this happen, and exploded on the guy. With quite a loud voice, Ben told the man not to touch either of us and gave him a steely eyed stare. When the man saw Ben meant business, in a suddenly weakened voice, almost apologetic, he said "ok ok, enter enter."
We bought the tickets from the reservation counter with relative ease.
**Nadine will write a blog about the ticket purchasing process in a separate, related post**
That evening we walked through the lively streets of Delhi.
A funny thing happened on the walk home. Nadine was in need of a certain feminine product and went on a wild goose chase in search of the almighty Pad. The first pharmacy we entered only had one pad in stock. One. ONE! We were directed across the street to another pharmacy. This place had a few dozen, but they were behind a glass window collecting dust for most likely a decade or two. At least there was something. Nadine finally found the correct size, had the merchant wipe off the dust, and paid the man the 90 rupees.
There aren't many things worse than getting your period in a country with a long history of mistreatment of women, especially those on their periods. Women are shunned, often forced to sit outside of their homes during mealtimes and other family gatherings.
There is a Bollywood movie on Netflix called Padman about this exact topic. It's a true story about the Indian man who invented the machine that created cheap pads for women at time women couldn't afford it and were re-using dirty rags. On top of that, he created thousands of jobs, most of which were offered to women throughout India. We strongly advise watching it. It has the cheesy Bollywood humor and jokes, but the story is educational and interesting.
FUN FACTS WE LEARNED:
-Indian men frequently have orange hair or beards. Islamic law prohibits men from dying their hair black, so they use henna instead, which turns it orange.
-On the road we saw a truck blaring music with a 5 legged cow, the fifth coming out of its back. According to Hinduism, a cow with five legs is a gift from the goddess Shiva, one of the principal deities.
-There are 330,000 gods in Hindu that all stem from Brahma (the creator), Shiva (destroyer), and Mahesh (provides education, health and wealth).
-If woman or man has a red line on her/his scalp, it means a woman is married.
-The red dot Indians wear between their eyebrows is simply for fashion.
INDIAN HEALTH TRACKER
Diarrhea-free: 4 Days
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