The Final Chapter: Culture Shock in the UK

The first thing I noticed when I got out of Heathrow airport was how green everything is. There are green things in Delhi, of course there are. But not like this. Not the brilliant green shimmering in the sun that can only be the result of regular rainfall. Beyond the initial shock at how green everything is there is the realisation of how quiet it is. Travelling down the motorway in a National Express coach I am bewildered by this silence. Silence you can hear. Silence that shouts above anything else. Have I gone deaf? Where has the honking gone? All banished from this sanitised world that I have craved for so long, but now I wonder whether it is what I want after all.

Heathrow Airport seemed empty compared to Delhi. Yes I know, one of the busiest airports in the world. But eerily empty compared to the Delhi Metro on return from work. So much personal space, but what to do with it? The little train through the airport has room for people to sit in. But people don’t sit next to each other if they can avoid it. The airport is so clean, so ordered, sanitised. Rules, regulations must not be broken. No pushing or shoving in the queue here. Driving out the bus goes in a straight line. No weaving between the traffic. No undertaking. Of course that is a good thing, but just so different from the last four months.

I have not just travelled to a different country, but to a different world. A world where the air is so clean it is invigorating. A world where things work when you want them to. Where the coach departs from the time and place advertised. Where old ladies complain about a three hour journey in a coach. But I did not have the heart to explain that I had left my hotel seventeen hours previously. Why spoil her fun when she is enjoying telling people about what she has endured?

The Isle of Wight has not changed. Of course it hasn’t. It hasn’t really changed in decades. The odd thing has altered. Fibre optic broadband has arrived. I’m told this is amazing. That films can be downloaded in minutes, not hours. But the island will remain the same no matter what technology changes around it. But maybe the way I see it is different. Spending time in India changes the way you see everything. Even as I wanted to go home, India had got inside me, moulding me so that I’ll never see my island in the same way again, making a nest for itself so I can never be rid of it. Not that I’d want to.

Being home is so normal that it is hard to imagine that somewhere, in a parallel universe, the chaos of Delhi is still going on. Rickshaws are still frantically weaving through the traffic. Traders are shouting above the crowds in Nehru Place, trying to sell ‘software, software’ that nobody wants. The smell from the nearby sewage works is drifting over an illegal hotel.

 Contacting those that are still there feels like I’m breaking some unwritten law of the universe. I’ve gone back through the wardrobe and that route back to Narnia should have closed itself off. Of course it hasn’t, but how do you explain to those that have not experienced what is on the other side of the wardrobe? Pictures, videos and stories – they just don’t do it justice. Most don’t really want to hear anyway. They ask out of kindness, but would much rather talk about new road works, the disastrous results of island schools or Jose Mourinho’s return to Chelsea.

At the weekend I went to Birmingham to watch a cricket match. On the way from the station to my hotel I tried to haggle with the taxi driver. He was quite offended. ‘It will be on the metre’- rules, regulations will not be broken. No negotiation. This will take some getting used to. The bus to the centre of Birmingham would not give change. Just like Delhi, change becomes the most valuable thing in the world. My wallet was still filled with rupee coins. I made up the change with two rupee coins pretending to pennies. The pretence was a success, but it could not possibly be over a period of time. Some might consider that a metaphor there for my time in India. But did I really try hard enough to pretend to fit in anyway?

Cricket in England is so different to the rock concert atmosphere of the IPL in Delhi. Ferocious cheering was replaced with a gentle clapping in appreciation of a fine shot. The cheerleaders who so caught the attention of the gawking men of Delhi replaced by Beefeaters sweltering in ceremonial gear with drums.  With the match beamed into a bar in Hauz Kaus one of my fellow interns said they thought of me in the stand. Those two worlds together, the planets aligned, just for a few moments.

Of course I am pleased to be back. If there is one thing India has taught me, it is to appreciate what is good in the UK. I can now walk outside without sweating and no longer have to worry about keeping water in the fridge because it is too hot to drink from the tap. But to a certain extent I feel some affinity with those returning back from a war zone. It just feels so normal here, while I know the battle still rages in Delhi. I’ve heard that my fellow interns have been banned from the nearby swimming pool. No foreigners allowed.  There are power cuts through the night which make it impossible to sleep. Evidently they were up at 3am with their feet dipped in buckets of water so as to make it bearable. The battle continues, but I’m no longer part of it. 

Delhi, Rishikesh, Jodhpur and Leh: A very hectic month

This has been a very hectic month and so that is my excuse for the lack of blog posts recently. A lot has happened over a short period of time, but I will attempt to cover everything briefly. Mark Twain once said that he wrote a long letter because he did not have enough time to write a short one. Based on that sentiment please forgive my poor attempt to keep this brief.

At the start of the month two new interns, Matt and Sam, joined us in Delhi. I was initially apprehensive about the idea of sharing a room again, but I have soon got used to it. They are both working at the Sannam S4 office with me (although Matt is working for BDO) and so it is nice to have other people doing the same route as I am in the morning. Being with people who are new to Delhi has enabled me to appreciate it once again, as the strangeness that I had begun to take for granted excites those that are yet to experience it. This has gradually worn off, as they too accept the wandering cow in the street as being as normal as seeing people walking a dog at home.

At the start of the month I went to my first IPL game in India. For those that don’t know, the Indian Premier League is a 6 week tournament with Indian teams paying the best players in the world to play Twenty 20 cricket for them. This is cricket, but not as we know it. Flashing lights, cheer leaders and blaring music replace cricket whites, cucumber sandwiches and the polite ripple of applause when a player reaches a landmark score. A depleted Delhi Daredevils team (minus the injured Virender Sehwag, Kevin Pietersen and Jesse Ryder) restricted Rajasthan Royals to 165. David Warner played excellently to make it look like a formality. But then he inexcusably got himself run out. Delhi collapsed and finished 5 runs short, with Kevin Cooper taking two wickets in the last over. With this defeat Delhi went on to lose six games on the trot and are currently bottom of the table. But it wouldn’t be quite right for me to support a successful team, would it?

The following weekend we all went to Rishikesh to go white water rafting. Joan, at Sannam S4, had organised this and several of my work colleagues came too. An overnight bus, in which we were stopped by the police for trying to bring alcohol into the area, brought us to Rishikesh. After breakfast we embarked upon the 30km course. The instructor spoke mainly in Hindi, with Arun, hardly the most responsible person in the world, translating. We would say we wanted to keep the boat upright and Arun would tell the instructor we wanted the boat to capsize. Fortunately the instructor did not oblige. It was a really good experience, but I’m not entirely sure our rowing made much difference to where the boat went. It seemed to me that it followed the current regardless. After the rafting we played volleyball by our campsite, before lighting a camp fire after dinner. There was the rather amusing experience of listening to Hindi songs, with Nikita, one of my colleagues at Sannam S4, translating the words into English.

After the excitements of rafting, the rather infamous Sannam S4 came round a week later. Earlier in that week we had practiced in the hotel with a bin for wickets and the lift as the wicket keeper. The match was played against a team of ex pats who play a bit more regularly that the guys at Sannam. Most had not played since the last match a year ago, while I had not played with a proper cricket ball since my Arundel days at middle school. 

The team started quite well, with no wickets in the first 4 overs, even if not many runs were scored. When the first opener fell, Matt strode out to bat. He was soon returning as Arun managed to run him out. More followed quickly. I was asked to field for the other team to make up the numbers, but soon realised I’d have to get back to put my pads on. A deceptively quick bowler took 3 wickets in four balls and suddenly I had to rush to the crease. The pads were far too big for me and witnesses have described my walk to the middle as the most entertaining part of the day. Batting at number 11 I did survive the first two balls. This may have been more from luck than judgement as the ball sailed past my leg stump. At the other end Rob went after the other bowler, put on to try to help us reach a respectable score. But suddenly he called for me to run. One was gettable, but he wanted the second. In the pads that was never going to happen and I was comfortably run out. It wasn’t even worth a dive I was so far away. Overall the team were bowled out for just over 50. The other team knocked off the runs in less than 5 overs and it had been an even more comprehensive defeat than the year before.

After 4 days at work I was off travelling once again. Jess and I managed to get the day off to travel to Jodhpur on Thursday night, while the other guys joined us the following day. The blue city, Jodhpur had been a destination that we had all wanted to visit from the moment we arrived in Delhi. The fort above the city offers stunning views across the blue painted buildings and market square. It was a lot hotter than anything I had experienced before, with it reaching 42 degrees at the hottest point in the day. Too hot to do anything productive. I have never spent so much time sheltered in air conditioned cafés. At this time of year Jodhpur is a tourist town without the tourists; most far more sensibly sheltering in cooler destinations. Every guesthouse claims to be recommended by Lonely Planet. To rebel against this we ate at an omelette shop which claimed to not be recommended by Lonely Planet, but was recommended by everyone else.

From the fort above the city there is a zip wire course run by a British company called Flying Fox.  Boris Johnson has promoted the zip wire and appears in all their advertising. Given his experience at the London Olympics I’d trust no-one else on knowledge of zip wires. The course is stunning. You fly across the walls of the fort, with the view of Jodhpur’s blue city in the background. The only problem is that you have to pick up enough speed to get to the other side. On the last wire that did not happen and I was stuck part way across. The instructor had to come across and pull me back to the other side. It may have only lasted a few minutes, but it felt a lot longer with my legs dangling in mid-air.

A very short week at work followed and Thursday morning I was off again. An early morning flight to Leh in Ladakh meant that we flew into the highest airport in the world for just past 7am. It must be said that Ladakh is one of the most beautiful places in India. With snow topped mountains and a barren landscape it appears more like Afghanistan than India. But our trip was not the success that we hoped it would be. Due to the altitude it is suggested that you take two days rest before doing anything in Ladakh. Due to the lack of time at our disposal we could not do that. Both Sam and Jess were ill by the second day, Sam to the extent that she had to spend most of the day in bed. It was mere chance that I did not have the same problem. I have no idea why I was not affected and there is clearly no correspondence with fitness.

Despite the issues with altitude we did try to do as much as possible in the area. The town was good for walking round, with craft stalls round every corner. Despite my general reluctance to do any shopping myself I was persuaded to buy a scarf which, whilst redundant in Delhi, will not be out of place in the winters at home. We took a taxi out to Tikse, a 20km drive through the barren landscape to a beautiful Tibetan monastery with amazing panoramic views of the surrounding area. High above Leh stood the Shanti Stupa, with views across the town. Our guesthouse was incredibly welcoming, with home cooked bread for breakfast every morning. They had a very excitable young calf in the garden, bounding about the place without a care for the altitude that was holding us back. When we left the owners gave us a traditional goodbye. This was hospitality that we would never receive in Delhi, with only the high temperatures welcoming us back to our home for the next few months. 

Travelling north for Holi

The national holiday for Holi and the holiday for Good Friday gave me a unique opportunity to do some independent travelling in India over a slightly longer period of time. The other members of the group had decided to go to Goa, but with escalating prices I decided that I did not want to pay over the odds to go somewhere that I was not really that fussed about. So, with the reluctant acceptance of Joan at Sannam S4 who was concerned about my welfare, I travelled north on my own to McLeod Ganj, home of the Tibetan Government in exile, and Amritsar.

Leaving Delhi was, strangely enough, logistically the most difficult part of the trip. One of my work colleagues, Shilpi, very kindly offered to take me to her house which was near to the bus pick up point. From there her uncle took me to the bus stop on the back of a motorbike. When I found the bus I found that the service had changed so that I would take a bus to a bigger bus station where I would take another bus onto McLeod Ganj. I would have been a bit concerned about this, but as there were other passengers going to the same place it seemed to be ok. At the bigger bus station those of us going to McLeod Ganj were told to wait for about 10 minutes for the other bus to arrive. Inevitably as this is India it was actually closer to an hour. But the bus did come and, although I was not in the seat initially booked on, I was at last on my way to McLeod Ganj and my journey had begun.

I arrived in McLeod Ganj at 6am the following morning. I had got some sleep, but I was still quite tired. I was staying at the Hotel Mount View which was a short walk from the bus station and they generously allowed me to sleep in another room until my room was ready for check in at 12 noon. They were telling the truth about the view, with the mountains ascending behind the hotel and clearly visible from my room balcony.

McLeod Ganj is both a popular backpacker destination and the centre of a long and protracted political struggle. Those twin roles go hand in hand and that is what makes it such a fascinating destination. On the streets there are a number of stalls selling scarfs, flags and other memorabilia to western tourists. But at the heart there is a serious struggle for the freedom of the Tibetan people and the Dalai Lama is a political leader with objectives like any other, even if the means are different. Around the town I found posters and graffiti pledging support for the Tibetan cause, while there were monuments to those who had died in the freedom struggle.

If I’m honest the museum on the Tibetan freedom struggle was a slight disappointment. Half of it was closed for no apparent reason, while the rest of it seemed to be more propaganda than being in any way informative. It was filled with artefacts which were attempting to prove that Tibet should be free. There was a coin collection with a sign claiming that this proved that Tibet was an independent nation. But I think it is fair assumption that most visitors already agreed that Tibet should be free and would have been far more interested in artefacts from the freedom struggle itself. I understand that they are engaged in a propaganda war because other weapons are not available, but I just didn’t think it was helpful to their cause to present the museum in this way.

During the day I saw a little cinema showing English films and so decided to go in the evening to see Django Unchained. I was a bit concerned that they might not let me in with my bag as I’d been told this was common practice in India, so went back to put all my stuff in my hotel first.  I should not have been so worried. In reality it was just a guy with a room, a projector and a laptop on which he had downloaded films almost certainly illegally. It was virtually a private screening and there was only two Americans in there. But full marks for entrepreneurial spirit and it was good to see someone providing a useful service to tourists without trying to rip people off. I also don’t think Tarantino will lose too much sleep about pirated copies of his film being shown to a very small audience in Mcloed Ganj.

The next morning I got up to go on a hiking trek up the mountain. I’d booked it with a tour company the day before and so met my guide for the ascent at 8.30am. I had been struggling a bit with a cold since I left Delhi, but I decided to do it to try to make the most of my time away. Quite soon I realised that it would be a tough days walking. There was a dog that followed us part way up which was nice, but the ground under foot was very uneven and the 200 Rs shoes that I had bought in Old Delhi offered very little grip. The lack of exercise that I have done since arriving in Delhi did not help matters and I had to stop for a water break every 20 minutes. The scenery, however, was stunning. Dharamshala is home to the highest international cricket ground in the world, but even after an hours walk it looked tiny from how far up I was. The guide kept telling me that it was only 20 minutes longer, but, unsurprisingly given the general Indian lack of a concept of time, this was an overambitious estimation.

After 3 and a half hours I finally reached the top. From I could see snow which is something that I had not expected in India. It was very cold and I was glad of the chai which was being served a café at the top.  I had expected the downward journey to be easy in comparison. I could not have been more wrong. Within ten minutes of leaving the top the heavens opened with not rain, but hailstones. With the guide I tried to huddle under a tree, but it was pointless. I was soaked through and freezing very quickly. My shoes, which had been unhelpful going up, were now positively useless as I was trying not to slip over the wet ground. For every step there was a decision as to whether to take the pain of the sharp rocks or wade through the water that had now melted from the hailstones. The hailstones turned to rain and after a couple of hours stopped completely. But by the time I got to the bottom I was wet, cold and exhausted. Yes I was glad that I had done it, but it would have been so much more comfortable in better weather.

The following morning, after buying an emergency jumper and putting my wet clothes in plastic bags at the bottom of my rucksack, I set off for Amiritsar. This involved taking a rickshaw to Dharamshala and then a local bus to the regional transport hub of Pathankot, where I could get another local bus to Amritsar. Local buses are very different to the private tourist bus that I used to get to Mcleod Ganj. They are much more basic and crowded, with people getting on and off on a regular basis. I was sitting near the door on the first one I was on and there was a leak from the door so that every time someone opened it to get on I would get wet. But overall, despite being warned about them, the local buses were not too bad. The views between Dharamshala and Pathankot were amazing and it was good that I had taken the journey in the day. I had not felt like doing much that day after my exertions the day before so it was good to sit and watch the environment change around me. By the time I got to Amritsar it was too late to go to see the Waga border changing of the guards. But I’ve since been told that it can be an uncomfortable experience as they are very hot on security so I am not too disappointed to have missed it.

Arriving in Amritsar I took a cycle rickshaw to my hotel. Unlike in Delhi these are uncovered and so I felt a lot more exposed on what is essentially the back of a bike going against the traffic.

From my hotel I visited the Golden Temple. This Sikh Temple is one of the most popular and sacred sites in India. Before entering I had to remove my shoes and covered my head. The temple is surrounded by water, with the gold reflecting in the water which is particularly beautiful at sunset. Around me there were thousands of people engrossed in their own deeply personal and religious activities. In a way I felt that as a tourist I was interrupting simply by being there. Like I could not be a fly on the wall and just observe, because by entering this very spiritual place I was contaminating it with my cynicism. That is not to say that I felt unwelcome, but just a little uncomfortable sharing something that was clearly so important to so many, but for me was, in effect, just another tourist site to take pictures of and move on.

The following morning I visited the site of the Jallianwala Bagh massacre. The massacre was the darkest day in Anglo-Indian relations as, at the height of the independence struggle, the British General Reginald Dyer ordered soldiers to shoot at a crowd of peaceful protesters. It has now been turned into a garden in memory of the protesters who died that day. There are few times when I am embarrassed to be British. This was one. I considered whether it would be worth feigning an American accent if anyone tried to speak to me. I quickly rejected this idea because I can’t do accents and this would have only made things worse. As it was the people around me were not unfriendly and most just wanted pictures with me. I was not really in the mood for pictures, but hardly felt I could refuse in the circumstances of where I was.

Overall it had been a good trip and I had seen a lot. I got back on Saturday night completely exhausted and was glad I had a day to recover for going to work on Monday. I’m a bit behind in terms of updating my blog and have done a lot since returning from Amritsar. But until my next entry please check out the blog of my fellow intern, Sam, if you want to get another perspective on life in India.

Test Match Special

Hockey is officially the national sport of India. This is clearly complete nonsense. In reality cricket is treated like a quasi-religion by the Indian people. Anyone from a kid on the street or a rickshaw driver to the richest businessman in Mumbai will have something to say on the subject. If cricket is treated like a religion, then Sachin Tendulkar is the religion’s deity. In what is likely to be his last year as a professional cricketer I was lucky enough to see him bat in front of a packed Delhi crowd last Sunday.

Getting to that point, almost inevitably, was not quite so easy. Tickets to the test match between India and Australia were advertised at Rs.100. However, what was not advertised was where to get them from. So on Saturday I went to the stadium hoping to get a ticket on the door. I asked a policeman where the ticket office was and he directed me three hundred metres down the road. I think that was very much an Indian three hundred metres, because it ended up being closer to 2km away. The ticket office was actually in a bank and there was a massive queue outside. Fortunately I met some Australian fans and they told me there was a policy of pushing foreigners to the front of the queue. After having to pay significantly more at the Taj Mahal and other places as a foreigner it was nice to see the discrimination work in my favour for once.

So I got my ticket and took a cycle rickshaw back to the stadium. There I found that I could not get in 

because I had my bag and my camera. I can almost understand that bags might be a security threat; even if they do have scanners at every metro station so could have them outside the stadium. But the rules against cameras are self-defeating and seem utterly ridiculous. If you are trying to market the experience of going to the cricket, and this should be the aim because test match crowds are starting to dwindle in India, surely it is a good idea to let people take pictures of them enjoying themselves so they can show their friends. These days when most people have a camera on their phone anyway it is completely unenforceable if the aim is to stop people taking pictures. I understand that there are rights issues involved, but surely taking a picture or video from the stand does not really compare with the pictures from the TV broadcast.

I gave the ticket away to a kid on the street. It certainly seemed to make his day. Perhaps naively I hope that the kid will be inspired by his day at the cricket and be inspired to train hard and one day play for India. Probably more realistically, if a little less romantic, he then sold the ticket at a highly inflated price on the street. But I will assume the former because I’m unlikely to be proven otherwise.

With the other guys I then returned to the stadium on Sunday. However, after making our way to the ticket office we found that as it was in a bank and it was a Sunday it was closed. So we had the almost unbelievable situation of not being able to buy a ticket because the ticket office was closed on the day of the match. There were Australian fans walking round the stadium trying to work out how to buy tickets. Really the BCCI need to sort their ticketing system out because it not fair for fans to travel all the way from Australia for a match and not be able to get tickets because they do not seem to be available anywhere.

So instead we were forced to get a touted ticket. In order to do this there was the rather amusing experience of trying to negotiate a price. We were on an auto rickshaw and so was the seller, so that we were negotiating a price while travelling side by side down the road. We agreed on a price of Rs.500 each which wasn’t too bad, but clearly considerably more expensive than the original price. I would not normally ever get a touted ticket, but if they do not provide you with the opportunity to buy one legally, what choice do you have?

So we eventually arrived at the stadium at lunch with Australia struggling at 90-5 in their second innings. Very quickly after lunch things got worse for our Australian friends. The ball was turning square on a bowler friendly wicket. Steve Smith was bowled and out came Mitchell Johnson. Sadly the Barmy Army were not there to give him a rousing welcome. Next ball he was also out bowled through the gate and Jadeja was on a hattrick. As it happened Peter Siddle kept it out well and played a terrific little attacking innings to get Australia up to beyond 150 which on a turning wicket might have been just about competitive. Australia lost their final five wickets in just over an hour. I had to explain to Harry, who had not been to a Test match before, that test cricket was not always like this.

India’s openers came out with attacking intent and raced along at more than 6 an over for the first 10 overs. In a test match that was remarkable and it knocked the stuffing out of the Australians. It has been a very long tour for them and they were looking a little weary in the field. Vijay was bowled, but it made very little difference as Pujara took the attack to the Australians. It got to the stage where it was clear that India were going to win and the crowd wanted to see Sachin bat. Kohli was dropped and the Indian crowd were visibly disappointed that their own batsman was still in. They started chanting ‘We want Sachin!’. I actually felt sorry for Kohli and it almost felt as if he gave his wicket away in the end to give the crowd what they wanted. But on the other hand I was in agreement with the rest of the Indian supporters. We were all really there to see the great man bat.

Out Tendulkar walked to the biggest cheer I’ve ever heard at a cricket ground. Getting towards the end of his career he might be tempted to retire, but that kind of ovation would make anyone want to carry on. He scored his first run edging the ball down the leg side. It was Sachin, so we can only assume it was deliberate. But Tendulkar is not a God, even if he is considered that way by the Indian people. He is human, and age is catching up with him like the rest of us. His centuries have dried up in the last couple of years and bowlers do not fear him as they once did. When he got out for 1 silence filled the stadium. I remember when I was in Ghana I was told that a member of the crowd at a football game had died because they were so shocked that the opposition had died. I did not believe that story, but the deathly silence when Tendulkar was given out made it seem almost plausible had I heard something similar had happened in this stadium.

Despite a little wobble India won pretty comfortably in the end. A 4-0 win has come as a massive relief to a cricket loving nation stung by the recent defeat to England. Whilst England and Australia have had contrasting results against India I would be careful not to read too much into it as we approach the Ashes this year. Australia’s troubles against spin will not be as much of a problem in English conditions. Indeed, the Aussie quicks (with the exception of Mitchell Johnson who was as awful as ever) looked pretty good in Indian conditions and will be a real threat under England’s cloudy skies.

This will not be my last experience watching cricket in India. I’ve booked tickets to the IPL match on Saturday between Delhi Daredevils and Rajasthan Royals which should be an interesting experience, if utterly different to the test match. My next blog will be on my trip during Holi. I got back on Sunday, but have only just got round to writing this one so don’t expect another entry too quickly. 

Recovering back in Delhi

After the excitements of Jaipur (including a certain controversial incident involving Rob and a rickshaw that I have sadly been banned from describing in this blog) the last two weeks have been a lot quieter. The weeks have mainly been spent working and organising travel for the end of March and April. The temperature has got a lot hotter in the last few weeks, with 30°C upwards becoming the norm and so this has reduced our activity at weekends.

A rickshaw

Last Saturday we visited Akshardham Temple. This building is fairly recent, with it being finished in 2005 and has attracted controversy as to whether it was the best use of resources as it was built in an area of the city without proper access to hospitals and other amenities. The temple is genuinely impressive, built in a style similar to the older temples in India, but so much more recently. In a way that is the problem with it. Whilst buildings like the Taj Mahal are justifiable in the context of their time, it seems more difficult to understand why such a richly decorated building is really necessary today. Of course it will attract tourists, but the commercialisation that goes with that means that the temple loses something in terms of spirituality. There are also no pictures to show you because cameras were not allowed in. In fact, you were only allowed your wallet and a bottle of water, which all seemed a bit ridiculous given that the site was clearly more of a tourist destination than valuable as religious site. So overall, whilst the building was very impressive, it did not feel quite right and so my emotions were more mixed than if it had been an older building.

Akshardham Temple- from Google as no cameras allowed

On that evening we went to the Sound and Light show at the Red Fort in Old Delhi. This was advertised as being state of the art, while the reviews on Trip Advisor said that it is one of the best things to do in Delhi. I’ve no idea what I expected, but it was certainly not what we got. In effect the show was an audio history of Delhi, while they would occasionally light up a different building. I had not really considered the light bulb to be ‘state of the art’. The highlight, and this is stretching the definition of the word, was when the audio history described one of the emperor’s wives as being a ‘common slut’. I can only think that this bit was included to wake the audience up. Not only was the tour dull, but there were also major gaps missing (but this may have been an advantage as at least that reduced the length). For example, they managed to skip through the struggle for independence (while pronouncing ‘English’ with the same level of disgust that James May uses when pronouncing ‘Germans’) without mentioning partition or Pakistan, which I thought was fairly impressive. Overall, if you are in Delhi avoid the Sound and Light show at the Red Fort.

On the Sunday I went to see the Gandhi Smriti. This was one of the places that I visited as part of my whirl wind visit to Delhi in 2011, but as the place where Gandhi was assassinated it was nice to see it properly without being rushed. The garden is one of the most peaceful places in Delhi and there is also a museum about his life. Part of the museum is interactive, with flashing lights and sounds, which seems a bit unnecessary given what the museum is dedicated to. But apart from that it is a good museum and was certainly worth visiting.

At work this week I was told by one of my colleagues at Sannam S4 that there was going to be an international jazz festival going on this weekend. So on Friday, after work, we decided to go. I knew it was in Nehru Park so expected that when I found that it would be easy to find the jazz festival. Walking round the park we came across a police station, a temple and a dark unlit path that did not seem to lead anywhere. It was only after we had walked round the entire parameter of the park and were close to where we had started, that we found it. It would have been much easier to find had we walked the other way, but for a reasonably big event it was really badly signposted. I’m not exactly a jazz connoisseur, but it did seem to be reasonably good to listen to. The only issue was that by the time we had found it there was only one act left before it finished for the night and we had to go home.

I think we have now pretty much got used to living in Delhi and found most of the amenities that we need in the local area. In the local shopping mall there is a little store, lots of food places, an amazing bakery that we are now using very regularly and two ice cream shops so we are very well catered for. We have also found a vegetable shop round the corner which makes it easier for us to get food. At work I am now writing newsletters on each sector in India to encourage foreign companies to enter the Indian market. From the research that I have done for this I will leave you with some interesting (or otherwise) food related facts;

•        India is the second largest producer of potatoes
•          Approximately 90% of Indians buy biscuits (and so I’m in good company with my biscuit obsession)
•         The Indian ice cream market is worth US$ 199 million per annum (and that was even before I arrived)

The Long Road to Jaipur (and Even Longer One Back)

Jaipur, as one of the places on the so called Golden Triangle, was always going to be one of our first destinations in India. Otherwise known as The Pink City, Jaipur is a tourist hotspot with a number of forts and palaces for foreign and local tourists alike to enjoy. Compared to Delhi, Jaipur is a pollution free zone, while the warmth of Rajasthan sun and the cloudless skies made a change from the overbearing smog that we have become accustomed to.  It is easy to see why Jaipur is such an attractive destination for those living in the capital.

Getting to Jaipur, however, had not been so easy. At the start of the week I thought I had booked the train tickets. It was Thursday before I found out that I was mistaken. The train booking system accepts your reservation even if the trains are full and puts you on a waiting list. As I did not understand the system I assumed that we were fully booked, but actually our place on the train was dependent on several cancellations. Cue a stressful day at work trying to find alternative methods of transport. There was an earlier train with availability, but that depended on everyone getting their employers to agree for them to leave early which might have been possible with one or two, but was unrealistic with all five of us. So instead we opted to take the bus. 

After the stress of organising new transport the journey to Jaipur was reasonably stress free, especially compared to what we would have to endure later on in our trip. The next morning we arranged taxi for Rs.1600 between the five of us (less than £20) to take us round the sights of Jaipur for the day. The first stop was Amber Fort, which is 11km outside Jaipur, but we thought it was worth going out and working our way back in. Constructed in 1592, the fort is elaborately decorated with carvings, precious stones and mirrors. I’m not convinced that the expensive interior would have added to the defensive capability of the fort and so can only assume that the fort was more a display of power, than a practical structure to prevent attacks. The fort is vast, with corridors and passageways that seemingly go on for ever. It was discussed that it would be a great place to play hide and seek, but I fear that it would take several hours to find anyone hiding.

We took the taxi down the hill from Amber Fort to the Jal Mahal. This is otherwise known as the ‘water palace’, as it is positioned in the middle of a lake. It was built in the mid-18^th century, but exact details about its construction or original purpose are unclear. We could not go inside, but viewed it from the shore of the lake. They seemed to be filming a movie there and it was quite crowded with people trying to see what was going on. We did not stay long, but managed to get a few touristy pictures of the palace without people in the way.

From the Jal Mahal we travelled to the centre of Jaipur and the City Palace. The palace was finished in 1732 and reflects a combination of Mughal and European styles. There were a number of different sections to the palace, with rooms dedicated to the history of Jaipur. After this we took the taxi on to the Albert Hall Museum. This is a grand building and Rudyard Kipling once described the museum as being on par with the best museums he had seen in Calcutta. Perhaps the most interesting items in the museum were the Hindu statues which, considering some of them were over a 1000 years old, were in remarkable condition.

On Sunday morning we visited the bazars. Jaipur is famous for shopping and a large percentage of souvenirs sold throughout India originally come from. I think the owner of the shop saw us coming and between us we contributed heavily to his profits for the week. Even I bought a couple of shirts for Rs.600, which just shows how good a salesman he was.

After the shopping we visited the world heritage site of Jantar Mantar. This is an 18^th century astronomical observatory features a number of ginormous instruments built because the only other instruments available at the time had been too small to take accurate measurements. It was 30 degrees outside and the area was very exposed, so we did not stay long. After this we visited Hawa Mantar, otherwise known as the Palace of the Winds. This was built in 1799, a little later than the other sites in the Pink City. The impressive entrance was rather ruined by the scaffolding as they were clearly doing refurbishments. Inside you could walk to the top and there was a great view of the surrounding area, including the astronomical instruments of Jantar Mantar.

In Jaipur we stayed at the Hotel Banipark which had good reviews on Hostel Bookers. Millie had agreed with them beforehand that they would put an extra bed in the rooms so that we would not have to share. When we arrived we found that had happened with one room, but not the other two. Fortunately I was in the room with separate beds, but it was not exactly ideal for the girls who had to share. It has also been advertised that breakfast was included, but they told us it was extra only after we had eaten it. We refused to pay and they eventually agreed, but it was a bit cheeky of them to try. Overall the hotel was ok and they did pick us up from the coach station, but I do not think it deserved the good reviews it had been getting.

The journey back to Delhi was a nightmare. The bus was supposed to leave at 5pm, but did not arrive until 5.50pm. That was annoying, but not too bad. We then hit the overnight traffic from Jaipur to Delhi. There were 40 minute spells when we were only moving a few hundred metres. We had been supposed to get in 9.30pm. We ended up getting to the half way stop at 10.30pm. I fell asleep on the bus and was shocked to wake at 1am to find we were still a very long way from Delhi. We eventually got into the bus station in North Delhi at 3.30am, but then had to get a taxi back to Jasola. We ended up getting back to the hotel at 4.30am and so I had little more than 2 hours sleep before I had to get up for work in the morning.

Swine Flu, Making the News and A New Arrival

One thing that I did not mention in my last blog was that the girls in our group have been ill for a few days. At the time of writing it just seemed like it was a fairly mundane thing and they would recover in a couple of days. Millie had been ill on Thursday and gone home from work. She went to the local hospital and they gave her a test for swine flu. Jasola Apollo Hospital has a bit of a reputation for giving people unnecessary tests to make money so we thought nothing of it. That was until her test results came back positive on Monday. Jess had been ill from Friday morning, but we thought that as she was sharing a room with Millie it was probably the same thing. So both of them had to have a week of work and wear masks when they were in contact with any other people. Swine flu is not actually that serious as the strain of the disease has weakened, but it is still very infectious. At the start of the week I felt as if we were just waiting for the virus to pick the rest of us off. The hotel staff went into panic mode and were visibly taking a step back in fear when they came into contact with Millie or Jess. As it turned out, Jess did not have swine flu and both girls are now fully recovered to go back to work this week. But it had been a bit surprising and of all the things to get in India, swine flu would have been one of the last I would have thought of.

The other thing that I forgot to mention in my last blog post was that the BBC had filmed a piece in the Sannam S4 canteen. Ahead of David Cameron’s visit to India they did an interview with Sannam S4 Chief Executive Adrian Mutton. At the time we were all told to go to the canteen to make it look busy. So in the footage you can see the back of my head as I am eating lunch.

This week Pritesh arrived in India. He had been with us in Dundee and so it was good that he was finally able to join us. His flight arrived at 5am in Delhi, but rather than sleeping when he arrived he had to go to an orientation session at Sannam S4 in the morning. To make things worse he had drunk the equivalent of a bottle and a half of wine during the plane journey and so he was a little worse for wear during the orientation. To wind him up the staff at Sannam S4 told him he had to deliver an hours presentation on what he had learnt during the orientation session. It was good to be on the other side of the joke after the incident with the food last week.

Pritesh was able to have a couple of hours sleep before we went out for the evening. Arun, who is the University of Dundee’s representative at Sannam S4, took us to a surprisingly nice roof top bar called Cafe 27 in Kalesh Colony. I say surprising because I would have hardly noticed it existed from the outside, but it was quite a large space upstairs. Arun had arranged a special deal which gave us unlimited food and drink for the night for Rs.1100. The waiters kept coming over with more food and there was a bucket full of bottles of beer in the centre that was constantly being re-stocked up. After finishing at the bar Arun took us to see India Gate at night which was quite special because it was so different seeing it without all the tourists. He then took us to a Sikh temple which, despite it being past 2am, was full of worshippers.

On Saturday I went to visit Humayun’s tomb, which is the third most popular attraction in Delhi. The nearest Metro station was at the JLN stadium, which is where the 2010 Commonwealth Games were held. The Metro station there seems like a ghost town as it was clearly built for the games, but is now not used at all. The tomb was a 10 minute auto ride away, but I think most of the tourists were arriving on coach trips or by taxi. Humayun’s tomb is considered a precursor for the Taj Mahal and the architecture is very similar. The tomb is currently undergoing renovation work so it did not look that good from the front. Fortunately all sides are symmetrical. Sadly, on the second side there was a couple posing for photos and it looked like they would be there for a while. On the third side it was facing the sun so it was not suitable for pictures. Luckily, as can be seen in the picture below, there were no obstacles and so the photos came out ok.

Yesterday we decided to go to Tughlaqabad Fort, which is one of the few sites of interest in Delhi that is south of Jasola. The fort was built in 1371 and is now mostly in ruins. It is a huge complex, over 6km in diameter, and so there was lots to explore. The most exciting thing about the fort was the presence of monkeys. They were running about amongst the ruined walls of the fort and looked like they were teasing us by hiding when I tried to take photos. After the fort we went to Khan Market for lunch and on to Lodi Gardens. We bought a football at Khan Market and started playing a game with some kids who were playing in the park. Annoyingly, after a short while, a warden came and told us we were not allowed to play, despite the fact that there were hundreds of others playing ball games. It is possible we were playing a bit more competitively than most and, as we were clearly foreign, we are always going to attract a bit more attention.

Today I booked the train tickets for the group to Jaipur. We will leave on Friday evening after work and get a 5 hour train to Jaipur. On the train journey we get a meal and a bunk to sleep on. We will then return on Sunday evening so as to get to work the next morning. I am also trying to organise a trip to Goa as we get a few days off for Holi, but it is a bit of a nightmare trying to get flights because it is, in effect, like booking at Christmas in the UK. But I’m hoping to get that sorted as soon as possible so I have something organised at the end of March.