It’s amazing how relevant the lyrics of Paul Simon’s “You Can Call Me Al” have become to my experiences throughout the course of this journey. This marks the third blog whose title was pulled from that song, and I have a feeling that there will be at least one more. I think it’s safe to say that “You Can Call Me Al” is my official traveling song, perhaps only rivaled by Men At Work’s classic “Down Under.”
Anyway, India often gets cited as one of the more hectic places to visit. It has the stereotypical mega-cities like Mumbai (Bombay), Kolkata (Calcutta), and Delhi. Under any other circumstances, I probably would have had to do a lot of mental preparations for the craziness of India. However, after spending the last 2 1/2 weeks in Bangladesh, I welcomed Delhi like it was Martha's Vineyard. Indeed, I must be one of the few people in the history of the world to travel to Delhi in search of a little peace and quiet. I had to fly through Delhi anyway en route to Europe, so I decided to break up the journey with a week in India. I landed in Delhi not knowing much about what I wanted to do. I visited the city very briefly during Semester At Sea, and I was eager to get a fuller taste of it. My friend Katie had been studying in Southern India all semester, so we had made plans to meet up.
Before Katie arrived, I had a few days to myself in Paharganj, the backpacker district right near Old Delhi. Much like Khao San in Bangkok or Thamel in Kathmandu, Paharganj offered the trypical comforts of a traveler's neighborhood: cheap guesthouses, restaurants, trinket shops, travel agencies, etc. The spice, vegetable, fruit, and souvenir markets around Paharganj were a sight to behold. Stumbling upon random markets is one of my favorite things about traveling. There's something that I find so exciting about the chaos of vendors hawking everything from religious art to baby clothes to mangos. In India, a Hindu nation in which cows still recieve special treatment, it adds a wonderful other dimension when there are huge cows wandering down the middle of the street, halting traffic and generally causing a commotion.
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| Cattle in the marketplace. |
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| Hindu devotional art. |
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| Fruit stand. |
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| Rickshaw. |
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| Spice Market. |
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| Cattle. |
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| Goat. |
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| View from the rooftop of our guesthouse. |
On my third day in Delhi, Katie arrived. A few of her friends from the program she just completed were also in Delhi for one of the days. We basically spent our time in Delhi visiting an array of museums, archaeological wonders, religious temples, and cheap restaurants around the city. There is no shortage of history in Delhi, and the amount of tourist attractions attests to this.
First, we hit Ghandi Smitri, a museum dedicated to the life of the infamous Mahatma Ghandi. The museum, stationed in New Delhi, was one of the most interesting, interactive, and technological museums I've ever seen. The whole thing stands on the grounds where Ghandi's assassination took place, so there is a lovely memorial there, too. When I visited Delhi on Semester At Sea, we visited the spot upon which Ghandi's cremation took place, so our visit to this museum really rounded out the picture of his life in my mind. It would be contrived and cliche to muse about how wonderful Ghandi was. Obviously, everyone loves Ghandi because he's one of the most inspiring figures in history, so that's all there is to say about that.
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| Mural at the prayer area of Ghandi Smitri. |
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| The site of Ghandi's assassination. |
The next day, we visited an amazing Jain Temple. Jainism, for those of you who don't know, is a religion whose core principles include a total aversion to violence of any kind. They believe in the sanctity of all living creatures, so they refuse to kill animals or to harm the environment. I had never seen a Jain Temple before, so I was excited to check it out. In truth, it did not look terribly different from a Hindu temple. However, I was totally enchanted when I learned that the Jains in Delhi had set up a Bird Hospital at the temple grounds. We were able to walk around it, and it's exactly what you are imagining: a bird sanctuary where the Jains care for and revive the pigeons and peacocks and other birds that they find with broken wings, infections, or other ailments from the struggles of being a bird in a city like Delhi. I don't know how many birds the hospital actually manages to save. If I'm being honest, I suspect it's not very many. Nevertheless, I love the idea. Throughout the temple and adjoining Bird Hospital, signs preach about the importance of caring for all animals. Meanwhile, devotees were all around the shrines of the temple praying and lighting candles and reading. It was a really beautiful sight.
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| I love Jains. |
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| Inside the bird hospital. |
We also visited the Red Fort, probably Delhi's most well-known archaeological attraction. It is right in the heart of Old Delhi, and it's basically just a big wall of red brick (hence the name) that surrounds a complex of buildings from a long-since-passed Mughal rulership. The Red Fort is one of many World Heritage Sites in Delhi, so the grounds are kept in wonderful condition. Walking around the area within the fort's walls actually felt a lot like strolling through a public park.
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| Red Fort. |
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| Lahore Gate, the entrance to the Red Fort. |
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| Market upon entering the Red Fort. |
The big mosque in Delhi is Jama Masjid, hailed by Lonely Planet as the "final architectural opus" of Shah Jahan, the Mughal ruler who built the Taj Mahal. It was definitely noteworthy.
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| Jama Masjid. |
By far the most amazing thing I saw in Delhi was Humayun's Tomb, a mosoleum built for a Mughal emporer by his son. I had never even heard of this World Heritage Site before, and I did not visit it during my flash-tour with Semester At Sea. Lonely Planet said not to miss it, so we decided to check it out. Lo and behold, Humayun's Tomb wa a real architectural masterpiece. I do not want to compare it to the Taj Mahal (perhaps THE great architectural achievement in the world), but it is tempting to at least put it in a slightly lower category. The tomb, like the Taj Mahal, is perfectly symmetrical on all sides, with a big white dome over the center. Maybe it was because I did not know what to expect from the site, but the tomb absolutely blew me away. I know next to nothing about the Mughal Empire, but their rulers certainly knew how to build amazing buildings.
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| Humayun's Tomb. |
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| Again. |
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| Again. With fountain. |
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| Again. With me. |
At all of these attractions, hoards of Indian people constantly came up to us asking for their photos taken with us. Of course, we obliged them, but it got awfully tiresome after a while.
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| Right back 'atcha, Paparazzi. |
The last site we visited in Delhi was the Baha'i Lotus Temple. Baha'i is a relatively recent religion (less than 200 years old) that preaches the underlying unity of all of the world's religions. It claims that all of the prophets throughout history (Abraham, Krishna, Moses, Buddha, Jesus, Muhammad) have all been sent by God to offer another revelation in an ongoing process. In other words, all of the famous prophets have introduced a new peice to the puzzle because humanity is not capable of understanding the Truth all at once. It's a pretty interesting take on religion. The building itself is shaped like a giant white lotus flower. Inside, people from all faiths are welcome to sit in silence to pray, think, or meditate. Meanwhile, the Baha'i volunteers who work at the temple are extremely friendly and inviting and warm, regardless of whether or not you have any interest in conversion. It was like talking to a Mormon without being creeped out. The grounds also have an information center that strives for peace among the world's religions--obviously, an ambitious and worthy goal.
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| Lotus Temple. |
In India, there seems to be a scam or con around every corner. On the streets of Paharganj, there is always someone "wanting to practice their English" or "offering free information at their travel agency" or "showing tourists around their shops for free." It gets extremely frustrating having to constantly fend them off. I have dealt with them all over throughout the course of this trip and others, but India takes it to a whole new level. Meanwhile, there are genuinely desperate people on the street begging for money. Most sources say not to support begging by giving money, as that will only perpetuate the problem. I have generally heeded this advice, ignoring the homeless and poor who approach tourists. On our last night in Delhi, we happened to meet a kind man from Bhutan, the Buddhist kingdom in the Himalayas. Bhutan is a majestic place, from I have heard and read. I wanted to travel there on this trip, but it costs nearly $200 per day to be there as tourist. It is all part of the governments plan to preserve Bhutan's cultural heritage and sheild it from the damage done by over-tourism. Supposedly, it has worked. Bhutan, while being a very poor country, is one of the happiest places on Earth. Anyway, the guy approached us and asked us if we would like to get tea with him. Always on guard, we agreed. The man was incredibly interesting and warm. A teacher back in Bhutan, he is now 65 years old. He left his family for Delhi in hopes of saving enough money with which to retire. Unfortunately, he arrived in Delhi and was overwhelmed by the urban life. He looked like a saintly fish out of water, and it showed that he genuinely missed his family. It all sounded too conveniently sentimental, too much like a scam. I made a mental note not to be taken in and, definitely, not to give him any money. We kept talking, and I very much enjoyed his company. It's hard to describe, but it really felt like I was talking to a mystic of some kind. He was not preachy and not self-righteous, but when he spoke he said incredibly wise things about materialism, the importance of love, and people's misguided priorities. Again, this all seemed like it could still be a scam. Con artists are certainly smart enough to be able to fool travelers into buying their "spiritual" message. I wasn't buying, I told myself. Sure, I agreed with everything he said about the evils of consumerism and the importance of maintaining healthy relationships, but that in no way meant that, when/if he asked me for money, I should give it to him. We continued chatting. He said that he was eager to get home to his family. His trip to Delhi had been a failure, and it was time to cut his losses and go home. Perhaps he could get another teaching job in Bhutan and continue to save a bit of money there. "Here it comes," I thought. "The trap is set, and he's waiting to spring it."
Eventually, he did not ask for money, but for anything old that I did not need anymore while traveling--an old cell phone, perhaps, or clothes)--that he might be able to sell to help buy his $20 passage (via train and bus) back to Bhutan. I have been dealing with cons for the past several months, so I was ready. I gave him the factory-made excuses. He accepted them. We continued chatting, though. We exchanged information (odd, I thought, given my assumption that he only wanted money). Ultimately, he invited me to his home in Bhutan earnestly, to which I said that I would love to if I ever make it back out to South Asia. Finally, he got very somber and spoke in broken English: "Ben, I am to feeling very shame for asking you to help. I think you think badly about it. But do not worry. Love is the most important thing." He was trying to say that he had not only wanted to spend time in hopes of getting money. "Love is the most important thing." Still, this might have been part of the broader scam, so I smiled and reassured him, all the while keeping up my guard.
We parted ways. I had not given him anything, and he did not care in the least. He was glad to find a bit of companionship amid the utter loneliness he has felt in Delhi for the past few months. His story had not been a con, and his sentiments had been genuine. I realized this with certainty as I get back to the hotel. I suppose one can never know for sure whether the friendship of a stranger is genuine or whether it stems from more sinister motives. It only becomes clear after the situation has passed. When I did not give him anything, he continued to be friendly and kind and saintly toward us. He wished us well and did not rush off in hopes of finding another couple of tourists to con. I felt bad for not giving him anything. After all, $20 could have gotten him all the way back home to his wife, children, and grandchildren. I had that power, but my fear of being taken advantage of stood in my way. Perhaps I have become a bit jaded after interacting with so many theives and scammers in Asia thus far. Perhaps I have forgotten that there is such a thing as an earnest person in need of compassion and help. I constantly talk the talk of generosity and compassion, but somewhere along the line I think that I have stopped walking the walk. Sometimes, I think it's probably better to trust people, to risk getting scammed. I know that many of you are probably bemoaning how naive I am, probably convinced yourselves that the Bhutanese man was, in fact, trying to take advantage of me in some elaborate con. Well, I am convinced otherwise, but that's sort of a moot point. What's important is that, regardless, he was a foreigner (that much was obvious), he was poor (that, too, was obvious), he was a great companion to chat with, and he was very kind in his words. At the end of the day, so what if he had conned me out of measely $20 (which is actually not even what he had asked for... he had asked for significantly less than that)? Worst case scenario, I lose something insignificant. However, and I suspect this would have been the case, perhaps he would have ACTUALLY gone back to Bhutan to reunite with his family, whom he clearly missed dearly. Is my pride about being a street-savvy traveler worth not taking that risk? As I said, there are plenty of bad people in the world; there's plenty of dishonesty; and there are plenty of reasons to become cynical. However, it seems to me that responding to these things with cynicism and cold-heartedness only perpetuates the problem. Perhaps when I talk about idealism and optimism, I have become a hypocrite without even realizing it. I can't take back not taking a chance on the Bhutanese man. What I can do, though, is try to cultivate the feelings that I purport to believe in. It's true that I have not been scammed too badly on this trip, and perhaps that's due in no small part to how on-guard I am against such practices. But have I become misanthropic in my quest to avoid con men? Maybe it's time for me to cultivate a little more trust.
"Be well, do good work, and keep in touch."
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