India In Review: The Plight of a Brown American in India

Despite it's status as my motherland, I never felt a strong draw to come to India. When I knew I was coming to Asia, I added it to the long list of countries I planned to visit because... you can't go to southeast Asia and not visit India. My original plan was to spend eight days here. I had it all mapped out. A day here, a couple days there, eight in total and then I'd be off. I ended up spending 27. And not because India was that particularly great, honestly. A lot of it had to do with poor planning on my part, and forgetting to take into consideration the amount of time it would take to travel. I mean... India is BIG. Like... really big. Let me put this in perspective for you:

India's outline superimposed on the United States
... and some of Canada... and  some of Mexico (via buzzfeed..com)

This all seems so obvious, but it worth saying aloud. India isn't this singular entity of India like I used to think about it as from half-way around the globe in my comfy San Francisco apartment. The different parts of India are very, very different. And I wanted to make sure I saw all of the things I had originally set out to see, from the north all the way through the south. Which meant I was here for a month. I still didn't see everything. Some places I wish I had spent less time. Other places I still didn't get to see at all. But overall, I'm happy with the way this trip turned out.

A lot of what you hear about India is totally true. There is poverty everywhere. Everywhere. People talk about how in India you can see the extremes of wealth butted up right next to each other. My friend KB explained that the reason you see slums surrounding multi-million dollar homes is because the people that live in those slums are the people who built those mansions, so they live close by out of necessity.

I'm reminded of an episode of The West Wing where Donna goes to visit Gaza and is reporting back to Josh. "When you get... into the streets, what hits you about Gaza isn't the overcrowding or poverty. What strikes you is something else: idleness. The sense of the people waiting but with no expectation. It's hard to convey."

I'll caveat all of this by saying that while I was here for almost a month, my interactions with the locals were almost exclusively limited to transactional encounters: hostel proprietors, shopkeepers, waiters, cab drivers, ice cream guys, and ticket sellers, so that likely is coloring my perspective on the situation. But I saw a lot of people here who don't seem to have a lot to do. I don't even know that "idleness" appropriately captures it. I think "resignation" is better. People seemed resigned to live the hand they've been dealt. Even the shopkeepers sit outside of their shops all day, waiting for the couple of sales they might make in a day and not doing much else beside talking to the shopkeeper next door. I guess it's no different than a lot of places in the U.S. but somehow it feels... sadder because it's in India.

There's also a sense of comradery and intimacy among the people here that you don't see in the U.S. Complete strangers talk to one another as if they've known each other their whole lives. People can sound like they're arguing when really they're just having a normal conversation.

I can imagine that it must be incredibly difficult to be a woman here. Most everything seemed to be done by men. Occasionally there'd be a woman in a position of authority, but they were few and far between. Rape was a topic that was a common occurrence in the news. I honestly don't think it's any worse a problem here than it must be in many other parts of the world, but I think it get's a little more attention here because 1) I think there's a bigger international spotlight on India than there is on a lot of other countries, and 2) India is a lot bigger, so as a sheer numbers game, it happens more often here than in smaller countries, but still makes national/international news. Still, I met plenty of female travelers who told me about how many people they knew were shocked and scared to learn that they were traveling by themselves through India.

The servant class is fascinating to me here. Like in Bangladesh, it's totally normal to have servants and drivers here. While staying with KB, I heard her explaining to one of her servants about how the Earth revolved around the sun. This servant was a teenage girl. It's hard to say how much of her lack of educational opportunities had to do with her being female and how much had to do with her just being part of a lower class, but in either case, it was maddening and saddening to see. Servants don't even really interact with the people the serve, outside of anything transactional. They might talk a little, but not really. They're there to serve, not be friends. It's amazing. Amazing in the "I'm amazed that that's how this works," not amazing in the, "this is awesome!" sense.

Personal space and personal hygiene are also very different here than they are in America. By personal space, I really mean lack thereof. There are no physical boundaries between the people here. When you're waiting in line, the person behind you is always pushing your forward. And not by accident, they are actively pushing you forward, even if there is no place forward for your to move. It's not rude in this culture, it's just how it is. Body odor is also all around you. I never got used to it, but it also wasn't as bad as I was expecting it to be in most cases. But sometimes it can almost knock you off your feet. No one here seems to notice.

I ate with my hands more and more as the trip went on. If you've never eaten a full meal with your hands before besides buffalo wings, I highly recommend trying it at least once. You feel connected to your food in a way that you don't get when you're one step removed when using utensils. You get to know your food on a deeper level. The consistency of it. The temperature. The texture. It adds a completely new layer to one's gastronomic experience. If you do try it out, don't be shy. It's not like eating a bag of Cheetos where you try to only use two fingers to minimize the amount of Cheeto dust you have on your hands. You've got to dive right in. Get a little messy. Remember, you're going to wash your hands when you're done anyways, so have at it. Also remember, there's no wrong way to do it.

Certain aspects of the infrastructure are huge problems here as well. Most of the places I went to were one giant trash dump. A story I left out of my experience in Amritsar was when I was killing time before heading out to the Attari border. I bought some ice cream but I held onto the wrapper until I could find a trash can because I refused to contribute to India's pervasive trash problem. I finished the ice cream and went to another shop to buy water. After I purchased the water, I asked the shopkeeper if he knew where I could throw away my trash. In response, he waved his arm out in front of him, gesturing toward the vastness of... the street behind me. Which was already filled with trash. Later that day, I had an almost identical experience after I returned from the border. I was holding onto the plastic water bottle, and one of the friendly locals went out of his way to tell me I should put the bottle behind the tire of a parked car so that it would get crushed.

The train system here is abysmal. First off, the booking system could use a massive overhaul. If I'm in India's shoes, there is no question in my mind that I invest a few million dollars and a few months to hire an IT consulting firm to redesign the flow of train bookings. The payoff in efficiency would be enormous. As a foreigner, it's incredibly difficult to book your own tickets. You're basically forced to go through a third party. It's almost impossible to book a ticket a couple days in advance, you've got to do it way before that. And then there's a limited number of last-minute tickets that become available for purchase at a certain time of day, so there's a mad dash to get them before they're gone. For a significantly higher price. Some train classes you don't have an actual seat, so you have to get their early and rush to get a good place in line so you can guarantee your spot on the train. There's a officer there with a long wooden stick to beat anyone into submission if they're out of line, or trying to cut the line, or get too rowdy. Trains are also perpetually late for what seems to be no good reason.

Sanitation is a disaster. Water is a disaster. Public safety standards are a joke. Construction workers don't wear helmets. They're just guys off the streets who needed jobs.

All of this is to be expected in the third world, but it doesn't have to be like this. And I have to imagine this is changing. I'm sure if I had come here 10 years ago, today it would look completely different. The last time my dad was here was a decade ago. When I was making this trip, he warned me that it would be hard to get cash because there are no ATMs. But of course there are ATMs! They're everywhere! Progress is happening, albeit slowly. I saw this ad in an airport from HSBC and I totally believe the headline is true:

It was a totally unique experience being a brown American in India. It definitely had it's pluses and minuses. On the one hand, if you weren't paying too much attention to how I was dressed, you wouldn't immediately know I was a foreigner. This meant I got hassled on the streets waaaaay less than a lot of the other travelers I met. Fewer people asking me for money or trying to sell me something (though I still had quite a few people doing both). It also got me out of some hairier situations because I could play the dumb foreigner card. On the other hand, once people realized I was a foreigner, I was treated the same, if not worse, than other foreigners. As soon as I opened my mouth to talk, prices became doubled. I got a huge variety of reactions from people when they found out I was American. Some people were in disbelief. I got the question "are you sure you're not from India?" more times than you would think. Other people would get frustrated. Why wasn't I talking to them in Hindi? I know you're from America and you don't know Hindi, but... why don't you know Hindi? I know you don't know Hindi but... why aren't you talking to me in Hindi right now? There were even some twinges of anger or disgust. People's body language and tone of voice were conveying an impression of, "how dare you not speak Hindi right now, stupid American." I also totally caught some people way off guard. When I was exploring Delhi with met my first hostel friend, a white Englishwoman, she would talk to me in her English accent and the people around would look and think "oh, an English tourist." But when I spoke back to her with a strong American accent, those same people would do a total double-take and you could tell were thinking to themselves, "WHAAAAAT!?!?!?!"

It's been an interesting role reversal being in India. If you look at me from a sociological perspective, it would be fair to say that my race (genetics) is Indian but my ethnicity (culture) is... American. It might seem kind of weird to think of "American" as an ethnicity, but it is. And I really do identify more as American then I would as Indian or Guyanese. So in America, I match ethnically, but looking totally different racially. In India, I match racially, but am totally different ethnically. At home, I often forget that I look totally different than the white kids I hang out with. I remember one time back in high school I was having a conversation about how at lunch the school yard was fairly segregated by race, with "us white kids" on one side of the lunch area, before I realized I had lumped myself in with "us." I guess it's the product of growing up in middle class America constantly surrounded pretty heavily by white people. In India, I often forget that I looked the same as these people. It's hard to convey how weird that it, by the way, not remembering how you look to other people. When I saw Indians in India, my brain thinks "foreigners" which is closely connected to "doesn't look like me."

This was my first time really being surrounded by brown people for an extended period of time. This must be what it's like to be white in America. Which I guess I never really knew because I'm not white. I think the self-image I have of being American is what has made it so hard to identify people who look like me. Which then also feeds into the very confusing mental state of not knowing how much I really should be identifying with this culture. Regardless, I understand India so much better than I ever did before. And I understand a piece of my history so much more than I did before. I think one of the biggest takeaways is that mentally, I need to stop denying that I'm Indian when people ask me where I'm from, and rather embrace the fact that I've got a long, rich history with this country and it's people. I might not know exactly which people or where in this country specifically, but that doesn't really matter.

I grew a lot as a traveler as well. This is my first time traveling outside of the country on my own and I needed to prove to myself that I could do it. And I did. (To some extent. I still knew people in a few places here who helped me out along the way. I think Cambodia will be the real test though. I don't know anyone, don't speak the language, and don't look like the people.) I booked hostels, navigated transportation, made friends, organized my own trips, fed myself, washed clothes, (washed myself!), kept myself relatively healthy, changed money, avoided getting mugged, avoided getting arrested, exposed myself to new cultures and experiences, and became a lot more comfortable with being on my own. I was sick here. A lot. And it rained here. A lot. And I got cheated here. A lot. I could have gone without all three, but I do think they contributed to the sense of "if I can do this, I can do anything" that I'm taking with me from India.

50 Things I hadn't done a month ago:
1. Lived out of a backpack for a month straight
2. Worn the same two sets of clothes for a month straight
3. Visited a Hindu temple
4. Took part in a Hindu religious ceremony
5. Walked through the streets barefoot
6. Saw the home of Mother Teresa
7. Went to Victoria Memorial
8. Explored an Indian slum
9. Got a shave
10. Ate a cheese naan
11. Celebrated a birthday by myself
12. Taken a train for 24 hours
13. Used an Asian-style toilet
14. Stayed in a hostel
15. Made hostel friends
16. Ate a Maharaja Mac
17. Used Indian rupees
18. Purchased a foreign phone
19. Rode on the back of a motorbike
20. Visited Jama Masjid
21. Almost got arrested
22. Visited the Red Fort
23. Climbed over a barbed-wire fence. Twice.
24. Got lost in an urban jungle
25. Had the best biryani in New Delhi
26. Rode in an auto (the Indian kind)
27. Meditated in the Lotus Temple
28. Visited the Taj Mahal
29. Learned how hand-crafted rugs, marble work, and tapestries are made
30. Visited Qadian
31. Went to Bahishti Maqbara
32. Visited Hoshiarpur
33. Climbed up the White Minaret
34. Visited the Golden Temple
35. Fell asleep in the Golden Temple
36. Rode in the back of a van with a malfunctioning door
37. Saw the Attari border closing ceremony
38. Went to the premier Indian vacation spot, Goa
39. Befriended an Indian shopkeeper entrepreneur
40. Went to the land of my people (maybe), Kerala
41. Became someone's first international friend
42. Saw a Kathakali show
43. Went to Jewtown
44. Got an Ayurvedic massage
45. Took a 6-hour cab ride
46. Went to an Indian hospital
47. Stood on top of a waterfall
48. Visited the Connemara Tea Factory
49. Went on a spice walk
50. Rode an ELEPHANT

Thank you, India!

How it started

How it ended

Goa: My Vacation From My Vacation Has Arrived!

Cool map, bro

I made it to the airport surprisingly hassle-free. I'm on my way to Goa, which is the premier vacation destination for Indians in India. I assume for other foreigners in India too, but who knows, really? As per usual in Asia, my bag was thoroughly searched. Multiple times on my way to the gate. While going through security, I met an awesome Israeli couple who was traveling with their one-year old baby and also headed to Goa on the same itinerary. Their baby was adorable, liked being read to, and had to be forced to eat. I don't have much experience with one-year-olds, but I assume this is pretty standard fare.

I had an excruciatingly long six-hour morning layover at the airport in New Delhi. All I could think the whole time was "I'm back in Delhi. For the third time. How did this happen?" But at least I had company. This couple was super friendly. They attempted to teach me some Hindi, Malayali (Malayalam is a language spoken in southern India), and Hebrew words. Most of which I immediately forgot. I do remember one though: "mirchi," which means "spicy" in... one of the Indian languages. This was also one of the few times I ever let myself fall asleep at the airport. The layover was long enough to actually get some sleep, plus I felt pretty comfortable with the idea that a) they weren't going to rob me and/or let me get robbed and b) they weren't going to let me miss my flight. It was a much needed nap. And indeed, we all made it on the flight with all of our belongings in tow.

I got yelled at by a security guard for taking this photo

One of the nice things about flying on airlines in Asia is that unlike most American airlines, they still feed you. A lot. You're entitled to your own opinion, but I don't think airline food is as bad as people make it out to be. A lot of effort goes into making those things delicious. It's not the food's fault that it's noisy, and you're cramped, and have to cut your chicken with a plastic knife that barely spreads butter so you can't truly enjoy the delectability of the food.

So my plane landed two hours early. Also not everyone was exiting the aircraft. (...airplane? Who calls it an aircraft, honestly?) I've had planes land early but this... was ridiculous. Something was up. I heard "Mumbai" thrown around occasionally and my first thought was "oh no, I got on the wrong plane" but as it turns out, we just made a stopover in Mumbai on our way. This is what happens when you don't speak the language and are half-asleep throughout the flight.

Another couple hours later, we made it to Goa. I parted ways with my new friends and found myself a cab to my hostel. Finally, the vacation from my vacation is here!

Go on to Goa Part 2: Do Not Pass Goa, Do Not Collect Good Times

Baha'i on Life

Lotus Temple, New Delhi

The Lotus Temple is a place of worship for people of the Baha'i faith, who follow the teachings of Baha'u'llah, whom they believe is the Promised One of all ages. The aim of the Baha'i faith is to unify humanity. [Fun fact: one time I had a special friend, WPC, and when I found out she was Baha'i, I spent hours that night teaching myself about the Baha'i faith so that I could come across as ever so slightly more worldly than I really am. Which I think I did (we ended up having a great conversation about the commonalities between Islam and the Baha'i faith) but it probably didn't make a difference anyway.] This was the one place I wanted to make sure I saw while I was back in Delhi.

I was so set on going to the Lotus temple because I had read that all were welcome to come sit inside and pray/meditate/sit in silence. And at this point in my journey, I really needed some mindfulness time. It's been rough. Don't get me wrong: I'm so glad I'm taking this trip and I've seen so many things and have already had so many experiences I'll treasure forever and it's definitely broadened my perspective, but there are definitely parts of it that have been tough.

My feet are burning in this photo

The Lotus temple is one of the most uniquely-designed buildings I've ever seen. It's (surprise!) shaped like a nine-sided lotus flower. Nine is a special number in the Baha'i faith: it is the highest digit and symbolizes comprehensiveness, oneness, and unity. The temple is surrounded by a huge, pristinely-manicured garden. Shoes aren't allowed inside the temple. I came prepared this time (unlike at the Kali Temple where I had to tuck my flipflops under my shirt) and brought my daypack backpack. Unfortunately I wasn't prepared enough, or I would have brought some socks because the stone walkway leading up to and surrounding the temple was scorching hot.

There is no talking allowed inside of the Lotus Temple. Or picture-taking. Which is a shame because words couldn't do justice to the architectural poetry that is the geometric design of the Lotus Temple from the inside. The ground floor is covered with pews made from solid marble. There are about 20-50 people inside the temple at any given time. Most people come in, sit for about 2 minutes, then leave. I went up to the front-row center seat and sat. And stayed. For about two hours.

Impeccably manicured garden
outside of the Lotus Temple

This was the first time I've ever tried meditating for more than maybe five minutes. It was both more difficult and easier than I thought it would be. The first few minutes were really tough. Time seemed to be moving at a glacial pace. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind over and over and over again. After what felt like 15 minutes I looked down at my watch and it had been about four minutes. Ok, time to try again. This time I sat cross-legged on the pew. My legs started hurting pretty quickly and then falling asleep but I decided to stay in that position and just sit through it. I had a lot more success this time around and think I really did find some mental peace. Before I knew it, another 45 minutes had flown by.

I thought about a lot of things during that time. It's interesting sitting alone with your thoughts. I wasn't actively trying to think or not think about anything, I was just sitting there letting thoughts come and go. I don't remember most of what I thought about. But I do remember wondering to myself what this experience would have been like if I actually had been here with WPC. A lot of life probably would have been different if it had eventually led us to share this experience together. As I'm sitting here writing this, I'm wondering why we actually we didn't end up sharing this experience together. Someday I hope to internalize the fact that some things in life you just don't have the power to change, no matter how hard you try. My friend BP tried to teach me that once. A few times, actually. I think she gave up on trying eventually.

Pool outside of the Lotus Temple

I stuck around for a Baha'i prayer service at 3pm. It was only about 15 minutes long and consisted of recitations from the Baha'i scriptures. The acoustics of the building are phenomenal. When the first guy started reciting, it literally sounded like there was music accompanying his voice. I've never heard anything like it, even in choir halls.

Afterward, I went outside and for whatever reason made it a point to circumnavigate the temple. The stone walkway was so, so hot that I needed to stop every 10 seconds and rest my feet on the grass, but I eventually made it.

I definitely got what I came for from the Lotus Temple and for that I am very grateful. I think the world would actually be a much better place if more people adopted the principles of the Baha'i Faith. The temple guides that were there didn't speak much, but there was a gentleness to their souls that came out in the way they carried themselves and how they interacted with everyone around them. You know how sometimes you can just tell what's in a person's heart without needing to really know all that much about them?

Could you lend me a foot?

I still had a few hours of daylight left, so I decided to go to Haus Kaus Village, where my Indian friend KB had originally recommended I stay while in Delhi. After walking around there, I can see why she recommended it; it's definitely a young, hip area that does a good job of catering to tourists. I walked through an area with a bunch of shops and restaurants. As I kept walking straight, the tourist area slowly transformed into a housing village, and then I stumbled upon a dirt path that led into a forest-looking area.

[Aside: on my auto ride over, there was a guy in a bicycle rickshaw pushing this heavy load of wood up an incline in the road. My driver saw this and decided to help the guy out, so he stuck his foot outside the left side of the vehicle and used it to help push the cart. I wasn't even mad at this total compromise of my safety due to his divided attention because it was such a genuinely nice and unnecessary action on his part.]

Haus Kaus Village

The start of my jungle adventure

The end of my jungle
adventure

Against my better judgement, I decided to walk down the secluded, dirt path. In retrospect, walking alone, through a foresty area I didn't know, immediately after having walked through a slum-ish village was probably not my best idea in the world. But whatever. I started walking and about 10 seconds later I found a wild peacock! Awesome. This bodes well. Of course, as I kept walking, I began to further and further psych myself out. "This is a terrible idea. What if I get eaten by a tiger? No one would even know where to look for me. Ok, there probably aren't tigers in New Delhi, but a venomous snake wouldn't even think twice before biting me and leaving me for dead. And I'm wearing flip flops!" You get the picture. But I pressed on. Because how much jungle could there be, really? And if a troupe of bandits wanted to rob me... there's nothing on me that I couldn't live without. After about 20 minutes of walking through increasingly bushy bush, I found a path to a more legitimate walkway. The problem was there was barbed wire between me and the path, which I assume was actually meant to keep people out of the area I was currently in, but was effectively doing the opposite of keeping me out of the real path. So I kept walking for another 20 minutes before I literally couldn't see the path anymore and decided to turn around and head back. I did get back to that barbed wire fence and I did crawl through it. Which is the second time I've crawled through barbed wire in India, thank you very much.

Don't mind me, I'm just hanging out in a tree

That new path I found was part of a pretty nice park. In it I found some primates of an unknown species (unknown to me, at least). They were eating naan that a security guard had thrown to them. Non-human primates eating naan. It happened. I myself, a human primate, hadn't eaten yet today, so I made my way back to Haus Kaus Village and found a restaurant. I decided to try my hand at a burger here from Fork You. The burgers in Bangladesh had been terrible. But wouldn't you know it, this was actually a pretty decent one! It was done in the style of The Counter in Palo Alto, where you have a card and you build your own burger by penciling in all the options you want.

Back at the hostel I met an awesome French woman in her 30s who was just finishing a month-long vacation backpacking through India. I'm excited to meet more hostel folk throughout my journey.

The Day I Almost Got Arrested

Java Chip Frapuccino FTW

I'm back in New Delhi for a few days before I move on to see the Taj Mahal / the rest of India. I've been feeling a little burned out from travel and didn't really want to be spending more time in New Delhi, but I just didn't do a good job of planning. The one place I really wanted to make sure I saw here was the Lotus Temple, so I booked a hostel within walking distance. On my way there, I passed by one of the train stations and found my first Starbucks in India. You have NO idea how much that frapuccino hit the spot right then and there - I was in some sore need of a little first-world comfort. On my way out the girl at the counter shouted out "Bye Vushan!" which I imagine they do to everyone, but still, the whole experience totally changed my mood for the better.

India Gate from afar

I continued on to the Lotus Temple and as it turns out, it's not open on Mondays. No worries, I'll just go to the other touristy thing nearby, the India Gate. So I get there and, you guessed it, closed on Mondays. Bad timing and missing attractions seems to be a theme in my life recently.

Humayun's Tomb. It's not my fault this photo is crooked.

I decided to try one last place, Humayun's Tomb and I was in luck! It's not as morbid as it sounds; it was actually one of the most impressive structures I've seen on my trip yet.

Humayun's Tomb is also surrounded by a huge garden and a bunch of other structures. One of them was another smaller tomb with a mosque built next to it. Apparently, it was a not-so-uncommon practice to build mosques next to tombs to give people a place to worship. The tomb itself was a pretty cool domed structure. When I got there, I found a closed gate, but no lock. So I waited for the security guard to wander to the other side of the building and quietly opened the gate to see where it led. (Side note: Lax security is a pretty common theme throughout India.) One big advantage of coming during the non-tourist season and on a random weekday is that there aren't nearly as many people at these attractions as you would otherwise expect. On the other side of the gate I found a stairwell that led me up to a place where I was actually on top of the dome! I had my doubts about the structural integrity is this super-old dome but that didn't stop me from climbing right on top of the center. There's probably a reason they don't let people up here.

View from the top of the dome
onto the mosque next door

I came down and found the mosque right next door. It's an open-air structure and had clearly not been used as a mosque for a really long time. Again, there weren't people around so I said my afternoon prayers there. As I was walking out the security guard stopped me and had clearly been informed by someone that I was up on the roof of the tomb (and I thought I had been so careful not to be seen!). Fortunately (and this is probably the one time I'll ever say this), his English wasn't good and he didn't know how to ask me if I had been on the top of the dome. I had no intention of lying to him so I just kept telling him that I couldn't understand him and he eventually got tired and let me go. I guess foreign ignorance can have it's advantages. On my way out, I also stopped by another smaller but still impressive structure, Isa Khan's tomb.

Isa Khan's tomb

On the way back home, I got into an auto and he used the meter to charge me. This might not seem like a big deal, but this was actually the first cab driver in New Delhi who didn't try to rob me blind. When I got out of the cab, I gave him the same amount that two other cab drivers had tried to overcharge me, and I wrote him a note that said "Thank you for not cheating me. - An American Tourist" He seemed pretty happy that I had paid him about 1.5x the fare and I really hope he finds someone to translate that note for him.

This is the first time I'm staying in a shared room. Up until this point, the places I've stayed would really be more accurately called hotels than hostels, but this is definitely a hostel. And true to what I expected, I met a couple of really awesome people. First, there was the Argentinian salsa dancer who was super friendly. I've officially decided that I'm going to LOVE South America. Literally. Then there was the older Indian woman who is actually a New Yorker. We went to dinner at Pizza Hut (which here is actually a pretty decent restaurant) and had a great conversation about living in and doing business in India. I'm coming to see that staying in hostels is 1) a lot easier than I thought it would be, and 2) a really great way to spend the first night in any future new cities I go to for the rest of the trip.

Kingdom of Some Really Crazy Dreams

Life-size elephant. Life-size me.

What is the guy on the left even holding?

I spent my last day in Gurgaon mostly napping at KB's place. I didn't realize I was so tired but that nap was DElicious. I hadn't intended on staying another night, but KB's aunt said I had to see this show called Zangoora, which was playing at a place called Kingdom of Dreams. I didn't really know what to expect when I got there, but it was definitely a sight to see. As I'm walking in, I see a girl taking a ride on a camel toward the entrance. There are these two HUGE elephant statues in front. There's a trampoline bounce (one of those ones you strap into and then jump really high) to the right. Three men are dressed in... either costume or local garb (it was kind of hard to tell at this place) playing instruments I've never heard. And I'm like "...what IS this place???" I go up to the ticket counter only to find out that my show was already sold out. So much for spending that whole day in Gurgaon so I could see the show...

Fake sky. Real magic.

All was not lost. Kingdom of Dreams also houses the Culture Gully, which is an enclosed corridor of food places and stores. The food is supposed to be a cross-section of the whole country, with each place serving food from a different city or state of India. If you didn't know it, you could easily mistake the place for somewhere in Las Vegas. The ceiling is painted to look like the sky and the decor on the walls is totally over-the-top in a pretty impressive way.

It was more appetizing than this photo would lead you to believe.

...WHAT?!

I don't actually remember where I ate from, but I had some sort of lamb meatball dish. Pretty good. Too spicy and not enough naan to go with it, but pretty good. I ended the night with a selection of three desserts. Because, why not? You should never be shy about having dessert.

Puppets! Dancing puppets!

There were people dressed in costume so you could take pictures with them. There were also shows going on. Like the inappropriately seductive puppet show and the what felt like Hawaiian dance show.

Self Driven Parking

On my way out, I saw a sign saying "Self Driven Parking". And we thought we were ahead of the curve at Google with our self-driving car tests. India's already got PARKING LOTS for these things. Jokes, jokes.

A Day to Relax. Finally.

I hung out with KB all day today and it was wonderful. This was the first day I spent not doing touristy things or traveling, but just... hanging out. I spent the day at her uncle's place, mostly updating my blog, doing a little India research, and relaxing. Tonight we went out with KB's friends in Delhi at a speakeasy. This place was such a scene. It's just like a speakeasy you'd find in San Francisco, modeled after the Prohibition-era speakeasys of the U.S. To get in, you had to locate the secret, unmarked door and enter a code in on the keypad. The decor on the walls was like a fake library, there were portraits of old-timey U.S. celebrities, and everyone was dressed up for going out. I'm beginning to see that India is an even more diverse place than I already thought.

My First Auto Ride

Driving in India is insane. But believe it or not, it's actually less insane than in Bangladesh, so it's actually been comparatively nicer here. Still, it's ridiculous. Today I took my first trip in an auto, which here isn't synonymous with car, but instead refers to these three-wheeled open-air taxis (in Bangladesh they called the baby taxis or CNGs because they run on Compressed Natural Gas). There are no seatbelts and with the crazy driving, you could fall out at any moment, so I was holding on for dear life, with my huge backpack between my legs.

I went to Jummah (Friday prayers) at my mosque in Delhi. At first, people were a little suspicious (which is to be expected, my sect is pretty highly persecuted in this part of the world, so safety is definitely a concern for them), but as soon as I showed them a picture I have of me with the leader of our sect, I was very warmly received by the people there. They showed me around and invited me to stay in the guest house there.

After Jummah, I had an awful, awful time trying to get to my hotel. First, someone from the mosque helped me get onto a bus. We literally had to walk through the streets, with the cars driving around us, and I had to hop onto a moving vehicle. Then I got to the train station, where I had to navigate an incredibly confusing train map that gave me no hint as to what stop I needed to get off at to get to my hotel. I finally figured it out, got to my destination station, and then had to take a cab. The first four cab drivers tried all quoted ridiculous fares, I finally settled on one driver who had the least inflated fare. Unfortunately, he didn't know where my hotel was (none of them really did, as far as I could tell), so he dropped me off somewhere near where I needed to be and then it took me another 20 minutes of searching to find the hotel.

My new hotel is in Gurgaon, where a lot of the multinational corporations have their presence in India, Google included. The whole reason I'm here is because my friend KB lives around here and I wanted to meet up with her and I still feel so badly that she came all that way without getting to see me because of the train delay. So tonight we finally go to meet up. She picked me up and took me to her uncle's house, where she is living. Her aunt and uncle are awesome. They're young, really friendly and super welcoming. They took us out tonight to a trendy spot in New Delhi. This is definitely a side of Delhi I haven't seen before. There's... wealth here. I had the second most expensive Coca-cola of my life at ~$4 (the first was in Spain and it was 6 euros, about $8). It was so nice to be with friends for a night.

My First Hostel Friend!

On my way out this morning, I met BM who was checking in. I asked her if she had any plans for the day and then invited her to come join me in exploring New Delhi. Thankfully she said yes because today turned out to be so much better with company. She's a couple years older than me and from England. She's been traveling for a little while through Nepal and India so she's slightly more seasoned than I am at this (though... who isn't, amirite?).

Jama Masjid, New Delhi

We walked a few kilometers to to Jama Masjid, the largest mosque in India (it can hold up to 25,000 people!), which was built in the mid-1600s. It was a beautiful mosque and I said my afternoon prayers while we were there. Being white and obviously a foreigner, BM had to pay a Rs. 200 entry fee but I didn't say anything (so they wouldn't hear my accent) and just walked inside without being bothered. I'm pretty sure everyone there thought I was her guide, which is fine by me.

Red Fort, New Delhi

After that we walked down the road to the Red Fort, which was also enormous. This time, I wasn't able to get away with pretending I was a local and had to pay for a foreigner ticket. In fact, I was even plucked out of line and told to go to the foreigner ticket line. How did they know??? The Red Fort was originally constructed as a palace and it showed: the place kept going on and on, it was enormous.

Chicken Maharaja Mac Meal

After the Red Fort, we started making our way back to the hostel. We both hadn't eaten yet that day and earlier we had been talking about McDonald's and out of nowhere, these iconic golden arches appeared! Naturally, we HAD to eat there and of course, I had the Maharaja Mac. It's was actually pretty good - it's like a big mac in structure, but made with chicken and Indian spices. Also, the fries taste the same. Also, the ketchup taste the same! I've finally found good ketchup on this continent, and of course it's at a McDonald's.

View from Club India Rooftop Restaurant

Later that night we went out to dinner at a place called Club India, which... let's be honest, when you find a place called Club India, you have to eat there. It also turned out to be surprisingly nice. We ate on the roof and the food was surprisingly good. I had chicken tikka masala, but BM had a Japanese dish, which I was skeptical about at first but when I tasted it, it really did taste like Japanese food! Well done, chefs.

Today was definitely the most enjoyable day I've had in India yet.

A New Start in New Delhi!

My bed/seat on the train

I've arrived in New Delhi! The train ride was a better than I expected. There are different classes of tickets you can pay for and it's totally worth the incremental cost to have a nicer train car. I was in the AC-2 class, which means there are two levels of seats/beds in the car, upper and lower. I met an awesome dude in the train car who spoke good English and showed me the ropes of the train car. I definitely would have starved and been totally lost without him. He also gave me a piece of candy to celebrate my birthday. My only birthday present, as it turns out, being halfway across the world. I also met an older couple who shared their homecooked food with us so we didn't have to eat the abysmal train food.


I didn't get to see that much of India on the train, which is too bad. It was kind of one of those "what you see out the window for the first five minutes is what you'll see for the next 20 hours" kind of deals. Random lifestock. Poverty. Rundown buildings. Farms. The usual.

Main Bazar Road, the street leading to my hostel

Unfortunately, my train was three hours late. Which I didn't care about much, but my friend KB was coming to see me and she drove 1.5 hours to get there, waited 1.5 hours, and then had to drive 1.5 hours back home without seeing me and I felt awful. I couldn't even call/email her because I don't have a phone and there was no internet on the train (not that I was expecting there to be).

When I arrived in New Delhi, my hostel was less than a mile away so I walked instead of taking a cab. The place I'm staying at is called the Smyle Inn, which already sends warning bells off in my brain, but it's turned out to be surprisingly nice. Definitely the nicest place I've stayed at so far, and by far the cheapest. It came recommended on TripAdvisor. I've only been here for an hour and I already like Delhi more than Kolkata.