Day Three: I Get to Pretend I Know What I’m Doing

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.

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.

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.

Day Two: Understanding the Culture—Not

Gandhi Leading his People

The next day, I hired a driver from the hotel for four hours for 650Rp. I asked for a map, and luckily, he took me to a place that became a touchstone for me:  India Travel Organizers (ITO), also in the Channa Market area. Raja Burza, handsome devil, spoke perfect British English, and lined me up with a map. ITO, with offices around India, also organizes trips: Burza ji (that’s MR. Burza to the uninitiated. “ji” also means “yes”, which can get a little confusing) did mention that on ITO trips, you get what you pay for, unlike the 2-star hotels (one of which was downright creepy) passed off as 3-star by Intrepid. True? I don’t know--I have no comparison.

The Kahn Market

After, my hotel-cabbie insisted on taking me to a shopping place I didn’t want to go even though I told him no. He insisted the place I wanted--the Kahn market--wasn’t open yet. Lesson two: arguing is the national sport of India, and if I REALLY didn’t want to go, I would have adopted a harsh and commanding voice, which was totally foreign to me and most Westerners. After being rude to the woman owner of this other place who practically dragged me from one building to another (“no, thank you.” “No, really”. “I really don’t want anything, thank you.” “I have to go now.” “I’m going now”. “No, I’m REALLY not interested.”)--I was learning--I finally got to the Kahn market. There, I found a cool little shop (Vishnu) where I picked up some tops for 350Rp each (about $7). Again, I got lucky—the omnipresent horde of street hucksters I would come to know and dread were missing from the Kahn market, so I was feeling pretty cool. 

Lodhi Garden Restaurant

Lodhi Gardens

The cabbie took me to what was to become one of my favorite places in Delhi for lunch: the Lodhi Garden restaurant, in front of the actual Lodhi Garden with Its beautiful ancient buildings. Back to the hotel for a nap, and it was time for dinner. It was then I discovered the most difficult part of the trip: walking the blocks beyond the hotel to find a restaurant, I was besieged by bicycle rickshaw drivers (“Madam, madam, I can take you to the Metro”); little kids (“Lady, I show you around”), and salesmen on the main shopping street (“Come in and look. No charge for looking. You don’t have to buy anything, just look.”). If I hesitated for more than a few seconds at any restaurant front, insistent people who wanted my business surrounded me. Of note: the raging poverty, cardboard shack homes, physically disabled and malformed beggars I was warned about were seldom visible anywhere I went here in Delhi and in India; something good has really happened here. Raja Burza told me there were social programs for people in dire straits, and school, including uniforms and books are free to all children. However, some families prefer to (successfully) work the soft heart and inability to say “no” of Westerners, and take the kids out of school to beg or sell trinkets—“miserable for the future of India” he said. Overwhelmed, I hurried back to the hotel and ate a wrap I bought at the airport. 

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.