The Last Day in India OR Final Blows - Part 2

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.

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.

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...

Sweating some bullets in the short local train ride in Delhi

Same train, other side. Not really crowded on Indian standards

Last picture at the airport after the automatic vending machine cheated me!

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 :) :) :)

The Last Day in India OR Final Blows - Part 1

After two weeks in Thailand, perhaps it's high time to write about the last day we've had in India, which was quite hectic and left a bitter taste that only now starts dissolving. This post is a bit of a rant, so if you're not in the mood, just read the pictures :)

The month spent in Dharamsala was great. A nice room with a big balcony and mountain side view. Quiet and relaxing, unlike the main street 10 minutes walk up 234 steps that provided us with all the simple bear necessities (read: feeding ground). Had it not been for the Indian 6 month visa running out, I'd have stayed there for a couple of months or till the monsoon rains would chase me away. I managed to work well on Colnect and introduce many important improvements at that time.

A denizen of Dharamsala contemplating the teachings on the Buddha

View from our balcony

The view from our room in McLeod Ganj, Dharamsala

A few days before leaving my SIM card was blocked due to the infamous Indian bureaucracy countering terrorism in some way I haven't yet deciphered. Yes, you can use your SIM without verification for a month but then you're blocked if verification fails. To me it seems any terrorist would find a month to be enough time to buy a new SIM card that will work for an extra month. But hey, I did learn not to challenge India with logic :)

Papaya-Banana - it's gonna catch on! :)

The landlord where we stayed seemed like a very nice and relaxed person but in the last days showed his ugly side very well when he got pissed off at something. I could have said it was disappointing for me to get such a lame and disgusting attitude from him but unfortunately it appears that when it comes to money, the grand majority of Indians we have come in contact with put money much above anything else. Courtesy, honesty, kindness all come much lower when you potentially have lost a few rupees. Oh well.

Amritsar's Golden Temple

Amritsar's Golden Temple

Some people are not impressed with the normal sleeping floor outside the temple.
Probably more comfortable sleeping on marble in the hot midday.

Leaving Dharamsala, we took nice local buses to Amritsar and were there hosted for free (read: donation-based) at the beautiful Golden Temple. The setup had 4 big rooms connected by a corridor and beds all over the place. Windows were non-existent and the ceiling fans were keeping the humidity in circulation. It was cool relatively to the hot weather outside and probably better than the free dorms offered to Indians which consisted of a blanket on the courtyard's floor.

The masses waiting to cheer for Hindustan
Notions of personal space known in the west should be forgotten in India

There was surely a good vibe in the dorms and we met some really nice people. We eventually headed up with a few of them up to Waga border to watch the infantile ceremony that India and Pakistan have been doing everyday for a while now. It consists of funnily dressed guards doing ridiculous supposedly-fearsome maneuvers at the other side. More amusing are the crowds going wild cheering for their own country.

Ceremonial head gear of a Waga border guard

Long hair, in whichever part of the body, means your country is the better one! Right?

India / Pakistan. As amusing as the whole charade is, don't forget they've
gone through some VERY BLOODY periods of hatred.

More - in Part 2... keep reading

Sikh Balance

Going through the pictures, I've stumbled upon this one which I was taking while on a rickshaw. I didn't notice it while I was taking it, but you can see here that both guys riding a scooter are not using their hands. That in itself may not seem special but that one of them is having a conversation with a unseen entity and the other looks half asleep makes it a nice picture IMO :)

Sikh scooter riders trusting the prophet to handle their scooter

Amritsar Golden Temple

Currently writing you from Chiang Mai, Thailand. Such a different atmosphere from India, but I'll write more about that in the next post. Meanwhile, I wanted to show some videos from the Golden Temple in Amritsar, the holiest place to the Sikh, so it's told.

Here are some videos you might enjoy

Stopping for a second as a foreigner holding a camera attracts attention of many people around. Why? Perhaps we're more interesting than most things they see, perhaps they're bored, perhaps one person accidentally stopped and the rest wanted to see what the fuss is all about. Beats me... In addition to offering free accommodation to all visitors (read: pilgrims) to the Golden Temple, free meals are also offered. Pretty basic Indian food but it's nice to see how it actually works neatly and orderly with the help of volunteers and donations. After enjoying their free food, visitors rid themselves of the dishes and volunteers quickly sort them out for washing. The sound, similar to fire crackers, is heard from dozens of meters away.

Itsy Bitsy Spider

Our room in McLeod Ganj, Dharamsala sees different guests. We've seen this spider at night time, checking out our kitchen. We decided to go to sleep and about an hour after waking up we saw it walking around above our bed.

To our rescue came the owners' kid with a broom. Using the broom and my tanktop he took the spider out to walk on the grass.

Saving the Sabbath in Dharamkot

This pseudo heroic story seems amusing enough to be written here. Dana and I live now in McLeod Ganj in a very nice room overlooking mountainous view with a snowy peak. Nearby are Bhagsu and Dharamkot, both very nice villages with good vibe but perhaps too many signs in Hebrew and Israelis for this part of the journey.

 

Now as the background is set, let's go back to last Friday afternoon. For some unexplained reasons, the known heretic Amir convinced the devout sinner Dana to go for Sabbath dinner in the Jewish Heart. But Ron, a friend we've met in Rishikesh told us we should join him and go to Bet Chabad in Dharamkot, where he stays. We were too easily convinced and made the short trek up Dharamkot, enjoying the monkeys and views on the way.

Rich place where no homeless people pick through the trash so it's all left for the monkeys.

As we've entered Dharamkot, a call out "RON!!!" was heard. It was Hanan in the picture below calling out Ron to help him unload the food shipment from the truck. Keeping Kosher, Chabad import loads of food from Israel and this shipment has been about a month late as there apparently was a storm in the sea. Chabad managed to get some passover food and live through the holiday using Israeli travelers as their couriers.
The truck driver seemed quite pissed of and as the three of us helped the nice Rabbi unload, the truck driver started closing the cabin and aggressively suggest we stop helping. At first we didn't understand what's up and then Hanan told us that the driver is asking for more money than what was initially agreed as the road took him much longer than expected.

Rabbi Hanan and the Angery Truck Driver

Hanan did the mistake of paying him what they agreed on before and now the driver wanted more. After closing the cabin with the Rabbi inside still didn't stop us from unloading, he went into the truck and started driving. Hanan begged him to stop and promised him more money. The money came from us righteous helpers as Hanan didn't have any more on him and finally the driver allowed us to continue unloading.

Yes, we were at the right place at the right time to make Dharamkot a better place for Jews that evening. Dinner was pretty yummy as well :) Jah bless :)

Consulting NewsGeek Readers

Banana filled Papaya on a mountainous McLeod Ganj background

My column on NewsGeek, Entrepreneur Around the World, is still alive and kicking. The latest post requested some suggestions from readers on how to increase conversion from visitors to registered members. There are nearly 300,000 people visiting Colnect every month, yet only around 1,000 collectors create an account. I thought that having a post with some question may create a discussion and, although with a very minor chance, bring about new ideas. You're welcome to read it.