I always said the only reason I’d go to India would be because of The Dalai Lama – I’ve never been drawn to it, and, to be honest, have always been rather intimidated and even scared at the prospect, having been brought up in a different culture and all.
But – and I really don’t know how this happened – I got invited to a small, private teaching by The Dalai Lama – two of them actually. 150 people, 8 days. In Delhi. I couldn’t say ‘no’. There was no way anything would keep me from something like this. So, with much trepidation, but a lot of excitement, I flew the 15 hours to land in place about as far away from what I was used to as I could get….
The teachings by His Holiness were amazing – there’s not much I can say in words about them except that I now know I am one of the luckiest people in the world. This is an experience I’ll never forget – and I was even able to introduce myself and ask him a question.
But the real story for here was my time in India. Thank goodness my friend Arthur picked me up at the airport when I landed – there were all these men outside the airport trying to get my bags and load them in a car so they could get a tip. Everyone wants a tip. That was handled easily. I get to the hotel probably around 11 at night and need money. No ATM in the hotel that I can use (why would a hotel that caters to foreign tourists only have an ATM that Indians can use?…) so I had to walk down the road to a gas station. If I hadn’t been so jetlagged I probably would have thought twice about that, but I did, and got a little money to tip and all that.
I stayed at a hotel called the Ashok – it’s government run, and I was warned by friends Heather and Paul (who happen to live there in Delhi) that it was like Faulty Towers. I get to my room – not even close to the 5-star hotel that the place says it is. It’s okay – well, until I get into bed, pull back the bedspread and see a blood stand on the sheet and underside of the spread. I was too tired to call so did it the next morning (don’t say anything…). But housekeeping didn’t care. I get back from breakfast and the room is still being cleaned – I asked the attendant (they’re all males) if the spread and duvet had been changed because of the stain, and his whips off the spread to uncover the stain now at the other end. All he did was move the covers around. I made them change it right away!
As he’s getting clean bedding, I notice that under the bed, it’s not just dirty, there’s trash there. I’m horrified and force them to vaccuum it immediately. I figure at this point, it’s okay – I didn’t want to risk another room and the same problem. And I’m in the renovated section of the hotel!
The first full day I was there, I get a call from another friend Heather (who was staying with Delhi but former NY Heather) – the other Heather is former NYC also but now working for the UN and living in Afghanastan. Heather’s in town to do some shopping so she lets me tag along, jet lag and all. I have to say, I tried to prepare myself for it all, but I wasn’t. It started with the 3 or 4 year old beggar child that lived on the street and was covered head to toe in dirt and muck – he wouldn’t let me pass. I was so horrified he was going to touch me and give me some kind of disease, and then I felt so horrible for thinking that of a small child. India really makes you think.
That was followed up a little later by the woman with an infant at her breast, clawing and banging on the car window, almost crushing her baby against the glass. I’m right there on the other side, freaking. What do you do? Everyone says don’t give them any money – but there they are starving to death and living in dirt on the side of the road. It rips at your soul.
The topper for this trip was this old man in white, with his walking stick that came hobbling over to the car because I sort of caught his eye. (Don’t look out the windown in Delhi and catch any of the beggars eyes – they’ll be knocking on your window in a flash – trust me, it happened to me more than once.) He had a tin can attached to the top of it and his Hindu god taped on the inside. Again, he comes up to my side of the window, which is partly open. He starts pawing at the window. I notice his hands are bandaged in white – then notice he has no fingers from his knuckles down, Afghan Heather says, “oh, that’s a leper.” I freaked! A toothless leper with no fingers was pawing at my window, inches from my face. And I had to ignore it. It makes you question your own humanity and compassion. I know people in New York who are begging can get help – there are a lot of organizations that will provide food. I don’t think these people in Delhi get much help. Heather said that it’s the culture and their class system and not to feel sorry for them – it’s just the way it is – but when you come from the West and have never experienced anything like this, how can you not freak to some degree?
Then there was the day I went for a walk on my own. I’d been at the hotel at the teachings for a couple days. We ended early one day (it was the last day of the first set of teachings)and I just had to get out and walk somewhere. Living in New York, I’m used to walking everywhere and not thinking twice about it. But the guidebooks and people told me not to go out on my own. But I couldn’t stand being couped up any longer so went across the street to a shopping area for lunch – which was fine – but then decided to walk up what looked like a nice big wide road.
So off I go. Now, remember, India is a patriarchy. Huge patriarchy. Like maybe 50 or more men out to every woman (which is huge progress I was told). It’s so bad that one day when I read the paper, I saw two articles about mother-in-laws that had doused their daughter-in-laws with kerosene and lit them on fire because the girls’ families weren’t continuing to give enough money for their dowry. And this was in Delhi!!!
So I start up the road. And the honking starts. And then I see men start to appear from nowhere and stare at me. They start coming across the street. Some young Hindi kid – maybe 17 or 20 – comes up behind me and says stuff in Hindi in my ear. It was soooo disgusting! These men were all walking toward me – so I turned around and got back to the hotel as soon as I could! No more walking on my own! (Okay – I did it again later but went to a safe place where only one greaseball appeared out of nowhere next to me – I told him to f-off and he disappeared.) So, you have to know where you can go there. Touristy areas are fine. I was obviously somewhere else.
And then the topper of it all! I was there for almost two weeks, so toward the end of my hotel stay, I was getting used to everything. I got leered at by the men in the shops in the hotel, the attendants on my floor were always knocking on my door and looking for tips – it got so annoying they got way less of a tip than they otherwise would have, I got horribly sick from the Indian spices so spent all my meals at 5 star hotels eating western food, and on and on. Oh – want to hear something unbelievable? You can actually rent a car and a driver for an entire day in Delhi for the same amount of money that a glass of wine costs! Can you believe that? That’s how little labor is valued there.
But back to my last day in the hotel. I get out of the shower, am half dressed, and come out the door to see a man up in my ceiling vent with a flashlight! I’m not joking – there was a small Indian man up in my ceiling above me! I freaked. And I made them knock off some of the bill at the end. I’d heard an explosion the night before (at this point, my comment was – how India – and went back to sleep) – and the hotel manager told me that the man was up there fixing the air conditioning, but don’t you think a 5-star hotel would inform their guest if someone was going to be in the ceiling on top of them????? Ah! – how India!
So – if you ask me my impression of India – it’s loud, hot, in your face, aggressive, too male oriented, dirty – but that’s Delhi. People told me that other places are beautiful so I can’t judge an entire country on one city, but, if you are planning to go to Delhi, DO NOT STAY AT THE ASHOK!!! Unless, of course, you want to wake up to find your own man in the ceiling. I will only go back to Delhi if a teaching like this with The Dalai Lama happens again, and I won’t spend another minute there!
And, to be fair, I had a great time – I’m telling you the bad, weird, surreal things that happened. I met great people, did some good shopping, liked the other 5 star hotels we went to – so it wasn’t a bad experience at all. Just totally eye opening – and it really will rock your world and shake you to the foundation if you’re not used to third world countries. (I’ve never been out of the west before…) So – it was a great experience – just don’t know if I need that particular one again….
PS: Oh, and I forgot to mention the noise. Besides the heat, starvation and pollution, Delhi is SOOO loud. People honk their horns nonstop, 24 hours a day. It’s one thing to have people yelling and hawking their wares, but the horns! There’s a horn for hello, I’m on the left, I’m on the right, I’m passing, what are you doing!, danger – look out! – there are horn blows for everything you can think of – and it just doesn’t end. It’s sound all pervasive that I didn’t actually notice it until I got back to Manhattan – I had no idea how quiet Manhattan is!!! It was sooo quiet there compared to Delhi. And there aren’t cows in the road. Oh, yes, there are still cows walking around the middle of the highways in Delhi….
