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| Dome of the Lotus Temple |
The next day, I met Greg who was also going on the Intrepid
tour; we rented a taxi for four hours from India Travel Organizers and went to
Delhi hat (spelled Dili Hat on the map), a government facility of artists and
craftwork from around the state. The cabbie, after being thoroughly instructed
in Hindi (a truly lyrical language) by Raja Burza, took us everywhere we wanted
to go. Dili hat was a disappointment--same hard sell cloaked in charm; but hey,
I bought two things (charm works, on me at least). The salesman, a slick and
handsome English speaker, called himself Harry Potter; his job was to get
tourists in the door. Neither of the items chosen fit, and Harry promised their
tailor would fit the garments. Greg and I waited 30 minutes (while enduring a
spiel from an artist who claimed his work would not be found anywhere else—it
was everywhere, actually) and they handed us two bags. I foolishly didn’t try
the garments on until I got back to the hotel and discovered only one had been
fixed. What to do? Perhaps I could deal with the ill-fitting garment the last
day of the tour when I returned to Delhi, a prospect that didn’t fill me with
joy. My lesson two, the art of argumentation, was still in a nascent
state.
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| The Lotus Temple |
Our excursion also included the Lotus Temple, a gorgeous Sikh
structure south of town—the building reminiscent of Sydney Harbor’s opera
house. Of course, the lot outside was filled with hawkers plucking at our
sleeves. Saying “no” 20 times a minute (sometimes to the same person) is tiring
at best. At worst, it’s enough to make you shriek--but no one would hear over
the constant noise from the streets. Oddly, the noise and press of people
didn’t faze me—I’m an ex-New Yorker after all. However, the omnipresent
pollution eventually took its toll on all of us.
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| The gang at the Sun (Monkey) Temple, Jaipur |
That night, the Intrepid group met for the first time and I acquired a roommate: Ann, a former pipeline worker from Alaska. We also met our guide, Chime (pronounced “Chimmy”) Dolkar, a tough and tiny Nepalese woman with a brusque manner. We all went out to dinner: Greg (Australia); Claudette (Canada); Pamela (London by way of Texas); a family, Mom Sue and grown-up daughter Virginia and son Matthew (all originally from Australia, though Virginia lives in Qatar at the moment); Josef (Australia by way of the Philippines); and Axel (Frankfurt, Germany). An interesting and varied group who were to become good friends over the next few days; we women supported each other through a tough introduction to a completely different culture, and the men became our companions and protectors. It didn’t take long for us girls to figure out we were a lot less hassled if we had a male companion, especially if we walked behind him. I’m not kidding.
To see specific reviews of guides/travel companies, places
to eat, stay and shop in India, see my
custom guide to the golden triangle on GoGoBot.
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