Agra-Cadabra; If Katmandu, we can too!: Sunday, June 10, first real day of tour

Sunday, June 10. Full Day in Delhi/New Delhi

Deb's voice to start the day:

So, according to the itinerary, this is Day 3 of our tour. Ok, we left on Firday, June 8 (day 1), arrived very late on Saturday, June 9 (day 2), and checked into our hotel right before midnight. So, technically, our first day of "actually touring" is Day 3. Just something to keep in mind when one signs up for a 16 day tour. They all work this way, and, of course, the day you return, no matter how early or late, it's considered a day also.

We pretty much slept like the dead, and woke up fairly refreshed to start our day.

Our favorite photo op spot in Eros Hotel

And now, Dave's voice

Day Three (Actually Day One)

Our first meal on the subcontinent. Scout gets hers (Nescafé, instant) black: Dave gets cream and sugar, so his – in Waiterspeak – is a "cappuccino." Sure, why not. The hotel breakfast buffet is a mix of local foods (yogurt, lentils, etc) American fare (made-to-order omelets) and unexpected options like "strawberry milkshake," which is actually just strawberry milk. Okay, but hardly breakfast fare. Also cheese. Who eats cheese for breakfast? Overseas hotel buffets also routinely offer salad as a breakfast option. And steamed vegetables. These are things we ought to be eating, but we’re Americans, dammit! We want starch and animal fat!

Our tour guide is named Sameer. He’s a little "spiritual" for Dave’s taste (i.e. - heavy on how visiting India will change our lives. I mean, really? On the plus side, he seems to know his stuff. Unhappily, one of the tourists is a woman who seems to believe that she knows his stuff better than he does. Hey, if you already know all about India, why go there? Also a drag are the two other women who pretend they can’t hear things they don’t want to hear and can’t be bothered with paying attention to the guide. Again, why go to India if you aren’t interested? (If this sounds familiar, it’s because Dave writes the same thing in every travel blog. The world is full of travelers who should stay home.)

We start on an only somewhat smoggy morning (Delhi’s population is 18 million and the cars run on coal. Air pollution has become so severe that the government is now testing a restriction on days of the week when people can drive, like the "odd" and "even" restrictions we once had) and first stop at the largest mosque in India. It’s big, capable of accommodating 25,000 big. India’s population is 13% Moslem @ 1.3 billion people = lots of Moslems. This being the first stop on our first day, Miss Know It All asks "Why are we going to a mosque in India?" Did I mention 169 million Moslems in India? Or how Moslems ruled the country for 700 years, during which time they built lots of stuff? Or how this Jama Masjid mosque was built by the guy who built (or at least had someone else build) the Taj Mahal? Huh. Maybe I knew that stuff because I’d been listening.

So. How does the imam preach to 25,000 at once? Simple: the head guy preaches to the folks nearest him. At the outer edge of the group he preaches to is a second priest who preaches to as many as his voice can reach. Then there’s a third guy and as many more as it takes. Did I mention that the parishioners sit outside? Must be fun during monsoon season.

We follow the sacred with the profane: a "rickshaw" (actually a scrawny guy pedaling a bike with two portly Americanos sitting on a bench seat behind him) ride through back streets of ("old") Delhi. The kid could not have weighed 120 lbs. Uphills were not his friends. Have I mentioned that the streets were rutted? Did I mention that other pedicab peddlers with equally heavy loads were swerving this way and that around him? Or the cars? Or the nonchalant pedestrians? Or how two way traffic is not all that selective about which side of the road they drive/walk on? I should have.

Rickshaw Ride. You can't see the narrow streets and rutty road since Deb held on to the camera with dear life. A little boy had fun hopping on and off in the rickshaw in front of us.

From the profane, it was back to the sacred: the site where Gandhi was cremated. Hindus don’t bury their dead (Moslems do) so Gandhi was cremated and his ashes, instead of being dumped in the Ganges river, were sprinkled across places all across India. A suitable end for a man whose life and labors touched all of India. The cremation memorial is simple: a square of granite with an eternal flame and wreaths of fresh flowers – and, of course, a barrier to keep yahoos from stealing the flowers. Since this is holy ground, one is required to approach it barefoot, or, in a dignified touch, in shower shoes borrowed from the Eros Hotel for this purpose. The cremation site is within a large park where many other notables were also cremated. Given that Gandhi was committed to the common people, this is a bit off track, but what the hell: there have to be a few perks to being a saint.

Guide explains at Ghandi memorial

From Gandhi, a Hindu, we go across town to a Sikh temple or, as Dave calls them "another damned church." Sikhism is an offshoot of Hinduism. Why? Dunno. Sameer says they believe in "live and let live," which is okay, but not very specific. These are folks who wear turbans with a bit of a point on the front side. The headgear covers up hair that is not cut. Why? Uh, they were on the run from Moslem persecutors and couldn’t find a Fantastic Sam’s in the old days so they decided to go with it. What else? Oh, every Sikh is named Singh (but not every person named Singh is a Sikh), Confused? Good. Seriously, hearing about religions such as Sikh, which most of us in the West are unfamiliar with, reflects how similar we all are, as opposed to different. The Sikh religion doesn't have a caste system, and we were impressed with the "soup kitchen" I'll describe in a while. Every hotel or restaurant in the U.S. serving volumes of food should visit here for how things should be done. And, out of the folks preparing and serving the food, 70 percent are volunteers.

The Sikh’s require the faithful – and visitors – to enter the temple barefoot. No hotel flip flops allowed. Also, all must cover their heads so they provide pirate bandannas for tourists to wear. Not much different than the mosque which required virtually all parts of women's body – and the legs of men – to be covered. Inside the packed temple, this being a Sunday, wasn’t much except a three piece drums combo pounding out a hypnotic beat. There was also a guy sitting under a canopy waving a fan, symbolic of…dunno. It sure was crowded, though and our group "lost" two members in the crush. Here’s a tip for taking a group to a crowded Sikh temple: always plan to meet in the room where you took off your shoes.

Sameer also walked us through the soup kitchen where Sikh volunteers (mostly) serve 5,000 free meals a day to anyone who shows up, regardless of religious affiliation. The chow looked pretty good, too, though it’s a little creepy to be walking barefoot through a kitchen where virtually all of the workers are sitting on the floor. Honey, try not to step in the food! Our guide being no fool, this side trip resulted in some donations to the food program. He’s steering us to a school in a day or two so we can look at the cute kids and make another donation. Not a big fan of this, since we didn’t come all this way to see school children, but the kids will be cute, just like the Cambodian kids were, and the need is real.

Before heading inside, head covered and shoes off

Amazing system

After getting Sikh, we go to Handyman's Tomb or, as everyone but Dave calls it, Humayun's Tomb. Big. And old. Built 70 or so years before the Taj Mahal (about 1550) by the dead guy's widow. Nice lady. (Co-incidentally, my ex-wife had a public toilet built in my honor after we divorced.) So, Handyman was a Mughal, i.e., Moslem king back then. His tomb is liberally decorated with six-pointed stars (we call'em Stars of David) with lotus blossoms inside so this Moslem king's tomb is loaded with Jewish and Hindu symbols. Good thing he's dead. Of course, one of the historical facts about invading India is that the invaders eventually become Indian. Semi-sorta. Same thing happened in China. Not so sure if the Nazis turned into Frenchmen at any point.

So another big, big place with parkland around it. Unfortunately, the most memorable part of the visit was that one of our group had his pocket picked while waiting in line to enter. Seems like it was the bump and run method where one person in a crowd bumps into the victim, while another removes his wallet. It's an especially effective technique when the victim is carrying the wallet in baggy pants. This man also got separated from the group at the Sikh temple so maybe he wasn't the most attentive guy in the world. Not a happy day for him, however. Talking to our guide after, he was completely surprised. In his 17 years of guiding, he's only had one other incident like this, and it was a woman's camera that was grabbed, and they got it back. A day later and our fellow traveler seems fine. Credit cards blocked, and he's smiling again. Sxxt happens.

Other sites today included India Gate, a memorial to World War 1 dead and a ringer for the Arc de Triomphe, a phrentetic marketplace/flea market, a snake charmer, and monkeys in the narrow streets on our rickshaw ride. And, that, our friends, was Tour Day ~~One~~ Three. Tomorrows largely a travel day to Jaipur, so we probably won't post or will post a day or two late just like this one.