India – Mumbai and Golden Triangle

I finally arrive in India. It was always on my list, but seemed too daunting, too hot and too vast.

Hello all. Been a while since my last update, but that was for a couple of reasons. My mother made the very long trek to SE Asia and I showed her parts of Malaysia and Indonesia the last few days, but the real delay was that I don’t quite know what to say after my two weeks in India. My initial reactions are a mass of conflicting emotions, alternately intrigued, shocked, thrilled and exasperated. For those who watch The Amazing Race, I always love when they go to India, because it raises the intensity level 10 times and exposes parts of the contestants’ character that may be a surprise to even themselves. Having lived the pressure cooker that is India, I can only say that I’m glad there were no cameras following me around.

I did Mumbai, Varanasi, Delhi, Jaipur and Agra, and I’m going to try and strip my comments of any broad gestures or summaries about India, as I plan to be back in a couple of months, most likely stopping in Kolkata, Hyderabad and Chennai. I want to think on India a bit, and also experience other parts of this vast country before coming to any stronger conclusions. I’ve mentioned before that I am doing a mix of budget and high-end (using points), and looked forward to doing India the same. First the high-end, which was spectacular. I stayed at a luxurious hotel in Mumbai, got a suite upgrade, and reveled in the pampering. This is the “welcome drink” tea that was delivered to my room, complete with cosy.

Even the turndown service was exquisite. After my time in Myanmar I looked forward to a break, and the hotel certainly provided that. I was able to experience the city during the day, and it was much as I expected — a vibrant, energetic, heated cacophony of sounds, indelible images and smells — oh the smells! I squeezed my way onto the trains, wandered around the streets in a sweaty haze and saw scenes of daily life that I could literally spend years photographing. But this was made significantly more comfortable because I knew the hotel offered an excellent breakfast buffet and cocktails and canapes in the evening.

A word on the English divide, as it merits mention. We all know the benefits and downside of having English be the world’s lingua franca. Even when I go pretty far off the track, there is generally a willingness and ability to get your point understood. I mix in some local words, speak slowly, maybe use a hand signal and it all works out. India ostensibly was going to be miles easier, since English is a de facto second language for many, particularly in the tourist areas where we would be.

It started off more funny than frustrating. I was at the Mumbai train station, trying to buy a ticket back to my hotel. Now train stations are confusing enough, with myriad tracks and trains, and literally thousands of people milling about. Add to that the odd work schedules, and it can be difficult to navigate. Herewith one ticket booth’s “operating hours”.

In trying to buy a ticket, I said “Curry Road” and was met with a blank stare. I said “Curry Road” again; the seller said “what?”. Third time, “Curry Road”, and all the people around me laughed when the seller again said “where?”. At this point, I knew I should probably try a fake Indian accent, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. Thankfully, one of the people laughing yelled “Koori Rowed” – and I got my ticket. And my trip through the city began. Welcome to Mumbai.

From Mumbai I met a friend in Delhi, as we planned to do Varanasi and then the Golden Triangle of Delhi, Agra and Jaipur. Given that it’s high season in the north, we decided to take a more mid-range or budget approach, splurging on having a car and driver for the week, but skimping a bit on the hotels. Well, we thought it would be “a bit”. We ended up in an awful spot in Varanasi, a dump in Delhi — though every room was inexplicably equipped with an aquarium — and finally some decent spots in Jaipur and Agra, so at least the standards improved as we went along. But except at the ultra-luxury range, whose main attribute is that you are effortlessly cocooned away from the city around you, the hotels were pretty atrocious.

Many of you know that I am not a germ freak. I think the anti-vaccine people are nuts, believe in the five-second rule and generally take a rather laid-back approach to the dangers of disease while traveling. I’m not reckless, but after living overseas and traveling widely, I have a pretty hale constitution and figure I’ve endured my share of dodgy establishments. Yet nothing prepared me for India. The cityscapes are dirty, public bathrooms disgusting, and the general standard even in mid-range establishments was incredibly below par — and I’m judging it by SE Asian standards, not Western ones. I read a book on Mumbai before I arrived, which mentioned the disconnect between pristine private spaces, and the seeming disregard for public spaces. Spitting, urinating, trash throwing, even defecating, all in public. Instances of tidiness and PSAs advocating cleanliness are juxtaposed by ones of shocking filth, possibly with an internal logic, but not one that I could discern on this short trip. Couple that with crumbling, not aging, buildings, and you can imagine that an evening stroll is the last thing most tourists want to do.

But one goes to India for the monuments. We began in Varanasi, where the devout go to bathe in the Ganges and bodies are cremated. I expected the Ganges would be dirty, but the surrounding city was much worse, and a bit of a surprise. The morning trip along the water was quite impressive — frankly, a bit more impressive in photos than it was in real life. The sun softens the images, and the sweep of the water and the steps gives everything a romantic aura.

I struggled to find an image that would illustrate the bathing in the Ganges without upsetting anyone’s sense of propriety, but it wasn’t easy. There always seemed to be an exposed body part that I would prefer not to include. So I’ll skip the images of the septuagenarian bathing beauties, the lathered up “big guys” ready to take a dip, and the crematorium along the banks. The salient sense I got was one of profound joy and faith. Though I couldn’t help but look at the garbage and turn at the smells, the people I saw seemed filled with genuine joy and revelry, being able to bathe in their holy river. Here is one man giving offerings.

Delhi was beguiling, with a center governmental area that has broad, tree-lined avenues opening onto grand vistas, often crowned by a turreted ministry building or a memorial arch. The federal areas have a stateliness, a regalness, that compares quite favorably to other major capitals. Alas, the wide, tidy sidewalks there quickly devolve into a jumbled landscape in the rest of the city.

There are some important sites there though. I was most moved by Gandhi’s Rajghat, the site of his cremation, and Smriti, the site of his assassination, or as described in India, his martyrdom. As I approached the platform where he was shot, rain began to fall in what had been an otherwise glorious day. I was quite moved to learn more about Gandhi – and am reading his autobiography. I can’t help but wonder about the way that his image as the “father of the nation” — there are museums and sculptures in his honor and his face is on all the bills — has not yet been reflected by seeing the implementation of his ideals for the nation. Many of the things he advocated — emancipation of women, elimination of the dowry, elimination of castes, prohibition, improved sanitation, ethical economics, protection of the poor, harmonious society, and most importantly, peace, have yet to be fully realized.

Having a car and driver was the right decision for us. I know some would prefer the “regal train”, but the landscape in the triangle itself is not all that memorable. It tends to be rather flat, and desertlike in some areas. The trees are compelling, but this open vista was definitely the exception, not the rule.

Jaipur was quite impressive. The Palace of Winds is more a facade than a full-fledged building, but is whimsical and fun.

And the Amber Fort is a treasure. The view of the area around it, particularly of the fortification walls along the mountain ridges are breathtaking.

Agra delivered some special moments as well. Aside from the Taj, the Baby Taj, the tomb of Itimad-ud-Daulah, was sublime, both the exterior and the intricate interiors. Given that it receives a mere fraction of the visitors the Taj does, it also provides a rare quiet respite.

But of course the centerpiece of any India visit is the Taj Mahal. It does not disappoint, though my trip there had an unexpected wrinkle. We arrived a few minutes before 9am and were told that ticket sales closed strictly at 9am, because the Taj was being closed at 10am, for the “president of Europe”. Now my friend is Austrian, and he immediately said, “there is no president of Europe!”. We quickly deciphered that the Taj was being closed for Herman von Rompuy, the president of the European Council — also known as yet another level of European Union bureaucracy. Now why they would close the signature site in India for a man who is little more than a figurehead, is not voted on by European citizens, and would not be able to get a Starbucks closed in Washington DC is beyond me.

Worse was that 30 minutes before the arrival of “his excellency”, a.k.a. Mr. Burns from The Simpsons (google him), the police started whistling like crazy to get us to clear the Taj. I gave some cheeky responses to the police, and took my sweet time moving. The only upside is that as the Taj was cleared, the pictures I fervently and furtively took were amazingly free of people!

There is also an impressive view of the back of the Taj, along the riverbank. Though I also got into trouble there — military guy with a semi-automatic weapon was none too happy with my foray past the gate.

The majesty of many of the sites can not be overstated. From the vast to the minute, there are a thousand images that stay with you. India is not a place that can be absorbed with even extended interaction. My initial reaction was a complicated one, but I am looking forward to returning. Of course, I think i’ll be doing it at the five-star hotels wherever I can.

I’ll leave you with another animal shot. I could have chosen among the many monkeys I saw in India, but I think you’re probably tired of seeing their mugs. And cows and camels are far too common to merit further attention. Instead here is a peacock I saw outside Galta, sadly making its way through the trash that is sadly so prevalent.