One aspect that stands out about India is its intense heat. Upon arrival in Delhi, we rented a room on the top floor of a three-story building. After ascending the stairs, we placed our belongings in a corner of the sweltering room and laid down on the bed. Even the bed itself felt hot. Despite the scorching conditions, we decided to take a shower to cool off; however, the water that trickled from the shower head was boiling hot. Fortunately, the fan in the room provided some relief by evaporating our sweat.
Venturing to the rooftop of the guesthouse, we observed the bustling streets below filled with people and Tuktuks busily pushing their way through to their various destinations. Although there was a slight breeze, the heat remained unbearable. The large metal water tank on the roof resembled a boiling kettle, with the water inside steaming away all day. The prospect of showering at the guesthouse seemed bleak.
Flow Of The River
Out for a walk, we dove into the melee of pedestrians and were swept along with the flowing river of humanity. Not unlike a river, the current was strongest in the middle so we made our way to the edges where we could find refuge in occasional shops to escape the commotion. There, we were greeted by merchants eagerly displaying their colorful and ornate offerings for sale. Ornate cloth woven with metallic threads in beautiful designs adorned many of the small shops of the hopeful merchants. Despite their efforts, we often left without purchasing anything, swept away by the current of the crowd.
At one point, I heard the honking of a horn behind us, further up the street. The honking was coming closer and much faster than the regular flow of the crowd of people. Soon the people around us were pushing and squeezing to the side of the road. I turned to look, and just in time grabbed Donna by the arm forcefully tugged her to the side of the road inches before she was run over by a stampeding bull! Behind the charging bull was a Mercedes car driven by a man honking his horn and laughing at his fortune to have a bull clear his path in the road. The mass of people reformed the river behind the car and continued as before. We wondered how many people got trampled during this episode.
Fried Bananas
We discovered a vender near our guesthouse that sold the most wonderful fried bananas and made this a frequent stop on our outings. They were perfectly crisp on the outside but so creamy on the inside. We became such regular customers that he would see us coming and have them ready by the time we reached his cart.
One time we were out in the river of people and Donna exclaimed surprisingly, “Somebody just grabbed my titty!”
“Who, where?” I asked.
“I don’t know which person. They’re gone now.”
“If it happens again, point out the person!” I said angrily.
“After nearly being run over by a bull and now being accosted, I’m not very happy with India right now.” She said frowning. We continued walking back toward our guesthouse.
The Vengeance of Cali
It wasn’t two minutes later when Donna spun around and pointed at a man crying out, “THAT MAN JUST GRABBED MY TIT!”
I jumped into action to catch the man but was passed by our fried banana vender who said, “No, you can’t do this! You are a tourist! But I can!” He then grabbed the man and pinned him against the wall. Donna was in a bit of shock when the vender beckoned her to come identify that this was indeed the man, which she did. Then the vender said, “You must hit him and teach him a lesson! We cannot have people accosting women here!”
So, Donna positioned her ring, rared back, and walloped the abuser harder than I’ve ever seen her! It may have left an imprint like the skull ring of “the Phantom” in old comic books! He slumped a bit. She then she snarled viciously at him, “Don’t ever, ever grab a woman’s breasts again! I am like Cali! I will rip your head off and drink your blood!”
With this the vender let him go with a kick to the seat of his pants and went back to his fried banana cart. The man, thoroughly embarrassed and with a sore jaw, slinked away into the throng of people. We bought some fried bananas and thanked the vender for defending her. Donna then turned to me and said, “I feel so much better about India now.”
Dichotomies
This is another aspect of India. People tend to either love or hate India, without feeling ambivalent. Their emotions towards the country and cultural experiences can quickly alternate between love and hate, sometimes simultaneously. Even Indian individuals themselves have admitted to experiencing this dichotomy of emotions. India compels one to confront their emotions thoroughly, without the option to retreat into neutrality. It is a nation of extremes, where extreme wealth and extreme poverty coexist, with very little in between. Extreme beauty standing next to extreme ugliness. Health contrasting with illness, humor alongside sadness. Whatever the extreme, it is present in this remarkable country
Running Out Of Time
Our time in India was coming to a close. While we had a six month visa, it started the day it was issued in America. So, between flying to Europe, hitchhiking, trains and ferries to Israel, and spending three months there, our time in India was nearly finished. We had come to New Delhi to get train tickets to cross the border into Nepal. The plan was to stay in Nepal a couple of weeks and return to India for a new visa.
We had previous experience buying tickets for the train. Remembering the mad rush in Hampi, we prepared ourselves for the inevitable battle that would ensue at the ticket window. The station was every bit as loud and crowded as one would imagine. Families had set up what appeared to be long term camping with bedding and clothes stuffed into oversized bags. There was a mixed odor of food, smoke, sweat and urine permeating the station.
We headed to the ticket office where a horde of passengers were desperately trying to thrust their arms through the tiny hole in the window to purchase their tickets. I pushed my way in, joining the throng. As chaotic as it was, the agent calmly took payments and doled out tickets in an orderly fashion. Another example of the Indian dichotomy. It was going to be a long journey, but a train ride across India should be fun!
Next: The Train From Delhi
Thanks for taking me back to India! I spent a few months in Dharamsala as a volunteer teacher. I was teaching Tibetan refugees, and they were great students. After that contract was over I travelled around visiting Indian friends I met in Oman. Interesting country, and I hope to go back someday!