I’m often confused when I hear the common advice many travelers give to India newbies of: “Avoid Delhi. Get in and get out as fast as you can.”
Wow…you won’t hear those words from me.
I (heart) New Delhi.
India’s capital city is messy, chaotic, fun, impoverished, sophisticated, stimulating and old fashioned (even while rounding the curve of modern technology). What I like best though is how the Pahar Ganj region (the main bazaar) is a crossroads of most travelers coming into, out of or through India. While here I can often be found at a street side dhaba enjoying a delicious masala chai while watching a typical day in the life flow by me.
Motorized rickshaws spewing pollution while barely missing a limping beggar as it speeds by.
The man selling mangoes, the delicious fruit which have just come into season.
Cows, even in such a huge city and on one of its most congested streets, are still found everywhere slowly grazing on whatever comes in its path…usually paper or the unfortunate plastic bag.
The other foreigners are fun to watch as well. They’re a huge part of the scene here because everyone is either waiting for their flight home, on their way somewhere north or south…or they’ve just arrived to India in the past day or two.
The latter group is the most amusing to watch.
They’re incredibly easy to spot. First of all, their skin is pasty & fair, their clothes fresh and clean and their hair usually has had a trim in the past few weeks. Best yet, and totally hilarious to me, is to watch their body language. Most of the newbies appear pretty uncomfortable and disoriented…as well they should be. It’s like a different planet over here. They flinch and react to every stimulus around them…which is unending and intense.
On the other end of the spectrum are the seasoned travelers coasting on their 2nd or 4th month; smooth and unaffected by the nonstop approaches from beggars, vendors and the motorbike that they barely missed being hit by…just at the last second.
I can’t count how many times I’ve been to New Delhi, but my guess is somewhere around 20. If you can believe it, until now I had never taken advantage of the wealth of historical sites, cultures and neighborhoods here. I was having too much fun in Pahar Ganj running into friends I had made along my way…and creating new ones to carry forward.
Sometimes I have a bit of a battle when making decisions of how I go about traveling. If I’m hanging out in one place for a long time I feel lazy and that I should be moving and seeing as many places as I can.
But then when I’m rapidly itinerating I ask myself why I can’t slow down and enjoy each place longer and more in-depth.
What ends up happening is that my travel style yo-yos. For example, I sit in Goa for one month and then flee to zip around Madhya Pradesh. Then spend another month in Pushkar, and I’m out of the gates, jumping from spot to spot.
Anyway, the little maharaja on my one shoulder kept telling me to go out into Delhi and see what’s there. Despite the retorts of the maharaja on the other shoulder, I decided to get off my buns and check out the city.
Sauntering past the eddies of dust, piles of cow poo and barking mangy flea infested feral mutts, I enter the spotlessly clean, efficient and modern metro station, the city’s fantastic light rail system. No more bickering with rickshaw drivers for a reasonable price to drive me where I want to go. Now I step up the window to buy a 6 rupee token and then through the turnstile. A slick train approaches within minutes and the automatic doors open welcoming me into the densely packed car…with hopefully one handle free for me to grasp (or else, with the first tug of the metro’s onward movement I’m likely to fall flat on my face…and take down the woman next to me in the yellow glittery saree).
My 2nd stop (after my usual mandatory first stop to get a REAL latte) was at Delhi’s Red Fort. Maybe only 2nd or 3rd to the Taj Mahal in tourism sites in India, this walled-in property is filled with ancient buildings, museums and to my surprise…
a field of marijuana!
Smoking marijuana in India is illegal (unless you are a Hindu holy man) but the plant itself is not. So while I’m used to seeing huge fields of naturally growing marijuana in far north of India, it was pretty funny to find it in the far corner of one of India’s most popular sightseeing destinations.
Next stop was the Jama Masjid, the largest mosque in the country. Muslims flock here from all over the city (and country) to worship during the scheduled Muslim prayer times (which I haven’t figured out yet). Afterwards, as I sat in a nearby predominantly Muslim neighborhood, I pondered this culture. I don’t understand the religion and I definitely feel lacking of understanding as to why the women hide themselves in black purdah cloths.
However, these people are consistently friendly when I meet them. My previous ignorant judgment dissolves as I, a tall white obviously non-Muslim woman, wander through their alleyways and am repeatedly welcomed with a chair to sit and a chai to sip.
This visit to Delhi was, as usual, a crossroads for me. I was still undecided as to where I should go next as I headed north. The first option I contemplated was joining the wave of most traveler friends from Pushkar heading to the familiar location of Dharamsala. I’ve been there twice already and it’s pretty much a sure bet that I’ll have beautiful weather, scenery, friendships and more.
My other option was the unknown mountains of Uttaranchal. I have been hearing great things about the Almora vicinity for several years now, and despite my best intentions, making the out of the way journey there had never manifested…until now.
The truth was that I had felt afraid of going there alone. I don’t mean fear as in the possibility of being harmed. It was more an avoidance of facing loneliness.
If I never face my fears, how can I evolve and better myself?
So, with minor hesitation, I chose to make the move north to Kasar Devi, the mountain looming above the mountain village of Almora.
So back to square one again, alone and knowing no one…
I traded the tourist crossroads for them thar hills of Uttaranchal.
As my taxi made the final ascent on winding cliff-hugging dirt roads I pondered whether it was just a quirky India-ism or an omen when my taxi hit a dog and left him whelping in pain behind us.
I was surprised to discover Kasar Devi to be mostly unaffected by tourism. Almost every room for let exists within or as an extension to a villagers’ household. So most travelers there are, you can say, adopted by a host family. Each night for dinner the guests eat thali together family-style, prepared by the family while the children entertain us with their hi-jinks.
The sort of travelers who stay in Kasar Devi are ones who come to India to immerse themselves in the culture and make an effort to speak Hindi. This was inspiring and fantastic to me because I usually find that, in other touristy locations, I am only one of the few people who make this effort.
To stay in Kasar Devi is to take on the lifestyle of a mountain villager.
The water situation is a serious issue. As a guest, I am given one bucket of cold water every couple days for bathing. So rationing is essential…as well as an extra layer of deodorant. In the morning I woke to the sound of birds…and the squabbling villagers competing over the lottery rationed water for that day. The loser to be seen later, making multiple trips up the steep mountainside with large water containers atop their heads.
Gorgeous scenery is generous here.
The sunny and dry climate somehow permits a tropical plant like a lemon tree to live side by side with evergreens. Looking beyond the fruits and the bees buzzing from blossom to blossom on the trees is infinity…
My family’s home sits atop the Devi’s spine affording 360 degree views out & across...
up & down…
If I really watched closely I could see that tiny moving red speck on the wheat terrace is a farmer plowing the field with his buffalo.
At night the sunset welcomed in darkness with a brilliant display of stars, free from the muting of city lights which I am accustomed to at home.
The horizon line disappears and land blends with sky as the erratically placed village homes in the valley below create their own constellation to blend with the universe around me.
In this expanse
and fresh air
and beauty
it was true
I felt lonely.
The irony though is that when I sat alone by my room, watching the 6 month old buffalo eat,
or the soaring hawks ride the wind
or just thinking about life…
I felt content and whole.
It was when I sat with others in social meeting places when I felt lonely.
And I have absolutely nothing or no one to blame but myself.
Opportunity and friendliness were everywhere at my grasp when I visited the few Kasar Devi socializing spots.
Yet I created a barrier that would not permit connections.
And WHILE this was happening I was completely aware of the wall I had put up.
And I have no idea why I do it.
Or how to overcome this tendency of mine.
I think all these years I’ve put off a visit to Kasar Devi because I had a premonition of my dynamic there.
After 5 days I decided to leave.
In a way I feel like I gave up…to return to a more familiar and easier path.
Three hours before my departure as I sat silently scolding myself for creating a divide between myself and connections, the very thing I seek most in life…
I decided to face my fear once again.
In a rare moment for India, I heard across the room the voice of a mellow and gentle man telling someone he’s from America.
I forced myself to do what is normally frightening and I walked up to him directly and introduced myself. This may not sound like a big challenge for you outgoing folks, and I encourage you to not take for granted your ease in initiating conversations with strangers.
For me, I was almost stuttering I was so nervous.
Anyway, there’s no big climax to this part of the story like we rode off on a pony together into the sunset.
But I feel good about initiating what ended up being a several hour, very connected conversation.
There’s some famous advice out there saying you should try something you’re afraid of every day.
So far for me, it’s just occasionally.
But I’m working on it.
new delhi photos here
kasar devi photos here
http://www.dwanjabi.com
I admit that I decided to take this class was not only for a massage lesson but firstly was an ice breaker for me.
