There was a good reason to splitting the
former post. I highly doubt that any of my few readers here would actually afford more than a few minutes to read my pearls of wisdom. No, I don't blame anyone as I personally find the incredulous amounts of information at our fingertips today to be overwhelming. Anywayz, back to India.
After enjoying a relatively good time in Amritsar and feeling back in real India after the relative comforts of the Dharamsala tourist-ghetto, we headed to Delhi. This time around we planned on arriving at midday and leaving at night towards the airport. Considering the weather and the exquisite loveliness of the world infamous Main Bazaar, this wasn't a bad plan.
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| Rickshaw Near Waga Border |
As simpletons don't seem to be able to ever buy a good train ticket
in India on a short notice, we got ourselves a general ticket and went
to the sleeper class. As a local suggested that Dana buys the ticket
(women are allowed to push to the front of the line) and as he asked for
a ticket for himself, we were destined to stay together when we got the
3 tickets printed on one paper. He was anxious sitting in the sleeper
class, having to await a paid upgrade but the joy of sharing time with
foreigners seemed to outweigh the monetary consideration. Amusingly
enough, we paid 100rs each to upgrade (meaning we got our assigned bed)
while other Indians sitting in the sleeper class with a general ticket
had to pay 300rs each as a fine for using their ticket in the wrong
class. In addition, they never got a sit assigned. Bewildering...
The
nice new "friend" from the line was a very cute Sikh college kid, or so
we initially thought. After I went to sleep, he found it appropriate to
start telling Dana everything about his sexual frustrations, having
never talked to girls and feeling guilty about his masturbation. He
never kissed a girl in his life (well, you usually do talk to one first)
and so tried repeatedly to be closer to Dana in not well hidden hope
that perhaps the foreign easy girl (because all foreign women are
considered extremely easy in India, and that's putting it nicely) would
decide she'd be happy to make out with him while her love is asleep on
the nearby bunk. Pathetic, saddening or simply disgusting? You can
decide.
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| So exciting to talk to a foreign girl while she still has an iPhone |
In Delhi, it took some pushing and shoving to get to another
train that will take us to main bazaar. People were nice making space
for us to sit as most were crammed in. The heat was on, internal fans
quite useless and sweat pouring. We reached the right stop after half an
hour and managed to buy cold water to revitalize our energy to be able
to face the main bazaar.
The only interesting thing to mention about this horrible place
this time around is that a cool Indian guy we formerly met in the north
came there to meet us. He has lived in Delhi for a short while and never
visited the main bazaar. He thought it might be a red light district
and was shocked at how disgusting and unwelcoming the area was. He was
saddened to learn most backpackers coming to Delhi go there and that
this is probably one of the first impressions of India awaiting many
backpackers and other tourists.
After dinner we went to the metro to meet another friend. It was
one stop but in retrospect a grave mistake. I've heard about groups of
thieves in that metro before and as we went in, I told everyone to have
no valuables in their pockets. Dana had her iPhone behind a zipper in a
small side bag she carried with her. We were already carrying 2
backpacks each and Dana didn't put that bag under her front bag but
rather left it on the side which was a grave mistake. If you've never
been pushed in Delhi's metro, you've never been really pushed in a
metro. Excuse my analogy, but I doubt that they could push more Jews
into trains during the holocaust. Not an inch spared. Luckily, only a
few minutes ride with some excuse for an AC allowing us to keep
breathing. Getting of that horrible train, Dana saw the zipper where the
phone was had been unzipped. "Your phone was stolen", I told her. Dana
took a bit to digest and our Indian friends were surprised. The guy was
shocked (okay, he's cool but get's shocked very easily at hard-core
India :) ) and the girl (working as an attorney) suggested we go to the
police with it. I suggested she talks to the police and if the phone is
ever retrieved, it'll be hers. Didn't hear back about it. Personally, I
suspect the thieves might be working with the security inspectors. As
everything goes through x-ray, it's easy to know where your phone is.
Dana had only that zipper out of 3 open and nothing on the outside would
suggest that's where the iPhone was hiding. On the bright side, and one
must always find bright sides, I never liked the iPhone and kept trying
to convince Dana to move to Android :) Morally speaking, it's maddening
to realize that throughout our travels in India, the person who has
made most money out of us was the thief. An iPhone is worth as much as a
few months rent for a nice touristy room.
We later took the train to the airport. I mean, what? they're
gonna rob us again? :) The security inspections for the airport metro
were unprofessional and time consuming. Not surprising. The guy at the
cashier tried to cheat me out of 50rs change. Not surprising. The train
looked like first world. Surprising and impressive. Well, it also cost
as much as taking a taxi to the airport...
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| Sweating some bullets in the short local train ride in Delhi |
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| Same train, other side. Not really crowded on Indian standards |
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| Last picture at the airport after the automatic vending machine cheated me! | | |
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Getting to the airport, being happy to rid ourselves of the
country, a few more goodbye slaps awaited us. Started with the idiot
guards at one gate who insisted we cannot go in the departures hall yet
as it's too early. They even lied saying this isn't the entrance. When
other locals asked they had to cave in. Instead of arguing with them we
just went in the next gate and got in without any problems. Inside, we
got a "random" security inspection from two really bored security people
asking us the same nonsensical questions time and again. It wasn't
because they were really questioning us but because they were extremely
bored and foreigners are probably a treat in this job. I ended us
writing the woman a couple of websites for online employment and wishing
her luck.
Waiting for a few hours at the airport was fine though I was
wondering about the Indians outside staring inside as if something very
interesting is happening in the DEPARTURES hall. Yes, in other countries
you might have people waiting outside the ARRIVALS as a friend or
family member might be coming to visit but in India a big building is
interesting enough. Oh well, not that surprising considering the amount
of times I've seen Indians at train waiting rooms simply staring at the
wall waiting. Not reading, talking, sleeping or listening to music. Just
staring at a wall. No, nothing moving on the wall. Just a wall. It's
likely an advanced meditative state I am yet unable to reach and
hopefully one day this technique will be exported from India to the rest
of the world. "Dirty Wall Meditation" I now dub it. It consists of
looking at a dirty waiting room wall in an extremely noisy train station
and reaching nirvana. Very advanced.
When we got to the check in, we've been only 1.5 hours early,
which meant they didn't even have two near seats for Dana and myself. We
weren't too far off though. My sit was taken and the bozo who took it
took himself a few minutes to explain that he wants to sit next to his
friends if I don't mind. OK, I moved. In the new seat, I asked the
Indian guy sitting next to me by himself if he minded changing with
Dana, who was one bench ahead. He said he doesn't want to but then asked
to change with me (sitting next to him) so he could sit closer to some
other friends. Be an asshole and expect me to be kind? Not today!
A few hours later, we've arrived in civilization!!! Welcome to Thailand :) :) :)
