Delhi - Part 2 - March 25

Finally, I am tired - bone tired. I hit the wall at a about 2 this afternoon and told Mr. Singh, “take me back to the Y.” It was hot, I was tired, I was through. The Y has been great. The shower works – best shower of my whole trip (which, of course, isn’t saying a lot!) - but I laughed when I turned on the sink’s faucet. The base of the faucet is set back about 4 inches from the rim of the washbasin. The hardware that belongs on the end of the faucet – the filter, etc, - is missing. When you turn on the faucet the water spurts out – but doesn’t go into the sink – it can’t make the 4 inch gap. It goes onto the counter instead. I have to hold my hand and guide it into the sink. So India!!!

Mr. Singh picked us up and off we went for Day #2 of sightseeing. We had to deal with heavy commuter traffic. He showed us (just from the car window) major government buildings – parliament, courts, etc. Interesting architecture that kind of blends British and Indian styles. Then we drove to the Quth Minar – a complex built in the 12th century. Wonderful ruins and a tower that has over 800 verses of the Koran on it – in iron work. I was rarin’ to go but Sulochana suddenly decided she was too tired and had to get back and take a nap – so off she went while I toured the complex and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Something happened in the complex that made me review one regret I have about this trip - I paid too much attention to the booklet the Ashram sent about behavior in India. I read it all and took it to heart. The booklet convinced me that I should avoid eye contact with men, not smile at them because it would be perceived as flirting, etc., etc., etc. I followed the advice for way too long. I’d say for the first 5 weeks I barely looked up when interacting with Indians. I gradually realized that others weren’t avoiding interactions and no international incidents were happening – so then I started to loosen up. But I regret that I wasted 5 weeks of potentially interesting experiences. Here at Quth Minar I met 2 men who were traveling from Sri Lanka. They asked me where I came from and when I said, “California,” the older man mentioned that he had been to California once, many years ago, quickly visited San Francisco, but spent most of his time in a “small city outside of San Francisco – named Redwood City. Did I know it?” “Well,” I grinned, “I grew up there!” But that is what I mean – I missed 5 weeks of such possible interaction. Who knows how many visitors to Redwood City I didn’t meet!

I wandered among the ruins for about 45 minutes and, on the way out, ran into a group of giggling young women, “Hello, Hello,” they called to me. I stopped, asked if I could take their photo (loved their colorful clothing). “Yes,” they answered and a whole group gathered (photo enclosed). I know the ritual. As soon as you finish taking the photo, you show it to them. As usual, they crowded around and pointed at themselves on the screen. “Good bye, Good bye,” they called as I waved and walked back to Mr. Singh.

Then, on to the Baha’i Lotus Temple. This was a long drive in horrid traffic but I am still glad I did it. It is compared to the Sydney Opera House (which was under construction when I was in Australia –tells you how long ago that was) and I can see why. We had to remove our shoes about 100 yards from the temple. No problem except some of the paving stones were hot – and I thought what it must be like in June and July! There must be some mighty quick steppin’ going on then. The temple is large and completely open – no visible supports of the roof. It was interesting. Two MSQLP clients are Baha’i and told me about it – so glad I can report back to them.

Then off to the Crafts Museum. This had a wonderful collection but, oh, it is in such need of a museum curator to get it up to speed. It should have much better signage, better displays, better lighting. But I still loved it. They have a “village” of sample traditional homes from throughout India that was very interesting to stroll among. The exhibits inside were amazing – but, again, needed more info. For example, one of my favorite pieces was a simply HUGE throne on wheels. When I say huge, the chair wasn’t huge but it was on a HUGE base (photo enclosed). I really wanted to know when and where it was built, how it was used, when was it last used – no info available. I can just picture a Moghul emperor being wheeled forward after a battle and demanding homage from the losing side. It would be MOST impressive.

The one disappointment was that the gift shop was closed. I had looked forward to interesting crafts for sale. However, they had artisans offering wares outside and it was fun to stroll among them. Fell in love with a painting of an elephant – but wasn’t willing to spend 2000 rupees ($50) because I knew it would cost a lot more to frame it well at home. Also fell in love with a chess set (this was in a store yesterday) made out of camel bone. Incredible pieces. The bishops, I think, were the elephants. The king and queen were maharajahs and their consorts. Utterly fabulous. So Indian – but $1500. I figured out it was about $30 a chess piece which was an absolute steal – but I was not about to spend that much money. However, I did find something that was the right price. This artisan was alone in his stall – he made little folk art animals. There were about 10 small cows in a row and a baby Krishna (he was blue, as he should be according to Hindu traditions) and one incredibly little ugly thing. I asked what the ILUT was – and he said, “oh a baby.” It just cracked me up. If it were a real baby you would tell the mother, “how beautiful” but inside would feel so very sorry for the parents. “How much is it?” I asked. “35 rupees (50 cents).” “What is it made of?” “Dried cow dung.” Okay, now I HAD to have it. Yes, dear friends, I am happy to tell you, it is mine. I am afraid it might turn into cow dung powder by the time I get home, but I do dearly love it. And, what a price! Now, I am wondering if my camel with attitude from outside Mussoorie is also made from cow dung. That shop owner had been so dismissive when she said it was made of “mud.” When you visit next, if you see a really primitive (rather ugly, quite frankly) folk art baby sitting on a bookshelf, perhaps near a camel with attitude, you may be seeing my dried cow dung collection.

It was the walk back to the cab that made me realize I had I hit the wall. I had wanted to go to the National Museum – but it will have to be next time. However the final drive did give me an opportunity to pay off a debt. I have been told repeatedly to not give money to beggars – it encourages them, they are organized, the money doesn’t go to them but to the organizers, etc. I have been strong. I think I told you in a previous post that I had given some money to a special Ashram fund that helps villagers in Shyampur meet basic needs – I was pleased to do that - but I had successfully avoided giving money to all beggars who approached me. Until today.

Here was the situation. When I went to the Taj Mahal in January beggars would come to the car windows when we were stopped in city traffic. We ignored them all. But one young boy worked so hard at entertaining us that we regretted not paying him. He, at least, had worked for the money. What did he and his sister do? He had on a hat (think beanie) that had a long string that hung down with a weight at the end. He would swing his head so that it made the string fly in a circle around his head. That was really funny by itself. But then he and his sister would drop down on the ground and kind of dance. They were so good-natured and were laughing themselves that we all had a good time – but the van moved on suddenly and the opportunity to pay them was gone. And I have always felt bad about it. They worked for the money.

Well, here was a boy (and his sister?) at the side of a busy lane of traffic and we were stopped. They started the same routine. He swung his head and the long string hanging down started to swing in a circle. Then he began to dance. This was my chance. I reached in my pocket and gave each of them 2 rupees (5 cents) – they were thrilled. Phew, my debt is paid off. I will tell the other 3 who were with me at the first incident. I know it wasn’t the same team of beggars, but we are somewhat in balance, speaking karmically.

When I got back to the hotel I went to the dining room and ordered a fresh lime soda. This Y does it perfectly –2 inches of fresh squeezed lime with a little sugar and a bottle of very cold soda water for me to add. It was wonderful. Had my last serving of Indian French fries – they put a lot of pepper on them. Not a healthy lunch but hit the spot.

And then I did the ultimate pampering. Moved down the hall to the Ayurvedic Centre and signed up for a 30 minute foot and lower leg massage. It was HEAVEN. She used warm oil and rubbed and gently pummeled, squeezed, and pulled – it was a wonderful, final gift to myself.

Before I forget, a mini clothes crisis happened today. This morning when I got dressed I pulled out the final 2 things from the last dhobi collection of clean clothes – some natural colored linen pants and a V-necked white top. I had showed him a stain on the shirt and he indicated he could clean it. When I picked it up last week, I gave him an extra tip but failed to check the shirt – critical mistake. I pulled it out this morning, shook it out of his neat fold and there was a long pinkish-red splotch running down one half of the front of the shirt! Oh my. And I had tipped him! No wonder he had folded it as he did and left right after the tip. Okay, so now I have 2 tops left (I lost 2 others in the Delhi airport on the way in – hey, I’m sure they are waiting for me in the airport Lost and Found. I can check tomorrow. Yeah, right!) I put on my used top from the day before, and went on with the day. For the massage I just pulled my pant legs up over my knee and she went to work. Well, after I got back to my room and looked down – oil stains are all over the pant legs. Okay, so it joins the white top in the garbage. Good I will be home soon.

And, finally, Robin’s hat. I truly looked all over but none could be found. Mr. Singh was in heaven taking me to tourist meccas. I know it is a common practice of cabbies to get a small gift or a kickback if we buy anything at them - and he got me into each store by suggesting it might have the hat I wanted for Robin. They never did. Oh, Robin, it would have been so perfect. You would have worn it with elegance and panache. Now, we will never get to experience “Robin in the hat.” Photo is enclosed. So, look at it and imagine the glory. Instead you get the nothing-special-except-it-was-made-by-Himalayan-women-in-a-cooperative hat.

So, off tomorrow morning to the hotel where Babaji is staying (and where I stayed on the way into India) and then on to the airport for the flight to Taipei. Oh, and before I forget - the tummy is just fine. No reaction yet from the Delhi water I drank yeterday!