Winding it down in India

February 28, 2009

Well I can hardly believe we’ve been here 4 months – I’m sure time can’t pass that quickly.

We are now getting ready to leave sunny, messy, people-filled India for dreary – but cool, hip, trendy cosmopolitan -- London. I’m sad to leave. I’ve so enjoyed the people here, their generosity and sense of humor, the “lost in translation” moments (and of course those times when absolutely nothing gets translated), the masses of people who all seem to get across the street in one piece despite cars buses motorcycles rickshaws bicycles weaving honking swerving flying around them.
I’ll miss seeing the occasional bony horse plodding placidly along in the midst of rush hour traffic that makes Charlotte’s busiest day seem like a sleeper.

I’ll miss seeing those auto rickshaws stuffed so full of people I wonder how the engine can go half a block, let alone a few kilometers. I’ll miss seeing 8 uniformed kids with backpacks being pedaled home in a bicycle rickshaw by a bony peddler. (Believe me, there’s no extra weight on anyone in India who does manual labor.) I’ll miss seeing people sitting on top of buses and hanging off the sides on their way to and from work. (I will not miss sitting in traffic, attempting to traverse 20 kilometers in less than 2 hours…thankfully we avoided most of these situations, but not always).

I’ll miss our driver, who is a nice, quiet, unassuming man…yet of course has a wealth of information at his fingertips through the pervasive driver network. (Never mind his own story – who knows what that might entail.) Only recently did I learn he’s a smoker. I will cherish the moment I caught him w/ a pack of cigarettes and teased him about it. Yes, Indians do blush under that dark skin.

And yesterday I found out he has two children – a baby and a 4 year old. You think you know someone…

I shall miss our hotel. Frankly, hotel living has been delightful. Great coffee every morning, made well by someone else. I’ve so enjoyed my early morning trips down to the first floor where very personable hotel staffers are quietly awaiting breakfast eaters and I get to enjoy my cup and a chat.

The hotel has also enabled us to enjoy India in an easier fashion; we didn’t have to spend time and energy setting up house (I’ve heard horror stories about setting up services, getting and keeping staff (staff is critical here; I scoffed before I came – I now understand – just keeping a house relatively clean is a daily scrub job, you could spend all your time trying to track down the items you need for one meal, running 3 errands takes an entire day…).

So yes, the hotel has allowed us to see the best of India from a cocoon – safe food, built in security and staff, short commute for Joe. Thus we didn’t get “immersed” in the culture but enjoyed it from the fringes. Pros and cons, no doubt.

All the good-byes and welcome home greetings we’ve received coming and going from the hotel I’ll miss – yet it will be nice to have a bit of anonymity back. Breakfast in a robe sounds good, too. And I hope I’ll remember to be grateful that I won’t have to go through security checkpoints every time I return home. I appreciate the Crowne’s diligence in helping to ensure guests’ safety and it’s a shame terrorists have encroached on our freedom in such a way.

Happy hours at the club have been a great way to end the day and meet other travelers. Along the way we’ve chatted with people from various parts of the world and made some good friends, plus the club staff has been particularly personable.

Rocky and Prerna are favorites of the kids; Ava got plenty of tours of the kitchen with both of them, and Claire had a ready audience for her computer games.

I’ll miss the workout facility – nice to wrap up coffee and head in to sweat, greeted by several happy faces, a bottle of water and a towel. The gym equipment isn’t bad by hotel standards, but what really shines are the steam room and sauna.

I’ve decided when I’m old I’ll get a sauna. (What am I saying? The only thing I’m waiting to do when I’m old is watch TV; by then I’m hoping there will be more options.)

Anyway, the steam room and sauna are fabulous. Simply fabulous. Except when that nude woman is in there doing scissor kicks. Well, also that other nude woman with boobs bigger than Ava who is a chatty Cathy…

While I’m on the hotel roll, relaxing by the pool will be one of my many good memories. With the lovely background music, sun shimmering off the blue water and the comfy chairs w/ red/white towels covering them, it’s been a lovely oasis from the chaos outside the hotel.

Note: Much as I’ve enjoyed India, sometimes one needs a complete break from the overt poverty (small children working the busiest streets for money, hovels just down the street where people build fires at night for warmth and use canvas, boxes, bricks, whatever makeshift shelters they can create to live in), men peeing anywhere and everywhere, many not even turning their backs – and these are men of all socioeconomic levels – I keep wanted to yell: be discreet -- go behind a tree if you don't have an option (realizing many of these people are without access to plumbing).

The dirt and dust (no sidewalks, smells of urine in the most public of places, rampant construction throughout Gurgaon, every sidewalk crammed full of people, stray dogs here there and everywhere, cows poring through trash (I wonder what they’re looking for? Candy bar wrappers? Cigarette butts? Soda cans? What part of a trash dump could possibly be enticing to a bovine?), the unpredictability of bathrooms – will they have TP? Will the floor be sopping wet from the hose Indians use to clean up? Will there be a toilet w/ a seat? chaos on the road at all times, incessant stares because of our skin color, my short hair, the kids (Indian people seem to love children and dote on them, touch them, get way up close and personal, sometimes scare the hell out of them…), my western clothing…

To that end, I’ll also miss the brightly colored clothing that abounds here. It’s delightful to see so many beautiful hues on the lovely women here. While I can’t say the somewhat shapeless style of saris appeals to me (I like feeling like I have a waist, though I guess the sari is ideal for pregnancy, right?), these women carry them off gracefully, casually tossing cloth over their shoulders and gliding along with all those folds swaying gently.

I must say, I’ve also seen some great sari fashion statements – one woman I spied recently had on a lovely sari, baseball cap and ponytail. Every once in a while I see someone all decked out in fabric, heavy jewelry and big Nike tennis shoes.
No doubt they comment on my t-shirts and jeans too; I’ve certainly received plenty of looks. I’m quite excited to live where I can resurface my tank tops and not have anyone bat an eyelash.

What I hope I’ll always remember is how so many people of different religions and walks of life co-exist – not perfectly – but in some kind of symmetry that works for India. It’s fascinating to walk down a busy street and see visible signs of various faiths: Muslims, Hindus, Sikhs, every once in a while a Buddhist or Christian (harder to tell w/ the latter). It makes for a rich and interesting culture.

The food here has been delightful: rich, spicy and varied. Veg is as varied as non-veg, and either choice is respected. No food wars! I do have to laugh at the automatic assumption that since you’re white you won’t enjoy spicy food.

While the food is to die for – pass on the wine. If you come here, seek imported (and hope they store it properly).

Another aspect of life in India that I did my best to take full advantage of is the inexpensive access to spa services. My feet have never felt better; pedicures here last at least 45 minutes and involve all kinds of scrubs, massage, lotions, etc. Head rubs are a misnomer – you get your back, arms, neck and head rubbed. Fabulous. And of course the full body massages I’ve had have been delightful.

I'll not miss having to fight for a place in line (what line? Most people just push their way in). That and not having strangers way up close and personal. I like a bit of breathing room. Plus sometimes all those layers of clothes and the heat don’t make for aroma therapy. In particular, the airport line cutting got on my nerves. Hello, we all have planes to catch…

I do have a new found respect for patience – people here have more of it than anywhere I’ve seen, as I think they’re used to navigating amidst a burgeoning population in a hit and miss infrastructure. Road travel, for example – in discussing going to see the Taj Mahal, Ram's suggestion was to leaving at 4:00 in the morning without batting an eyelash. Leaving then would put you in front of the Taj at 10 a.m. Six hours to go 200 kilometers blows my mind. Someone else recommended we go by train to Amritsar (“a nice ride – only six hours” –one way. Only?).

One sees the patience thing on the road for the most part. There are the occasional skirmishes following fender benders, of which we saw plenty, but generally people weave in and out, seek a spot to merge into aggressively but when beat to the punch, don’t get perturbed, just use their horn for the next opportunity. (Non-stop horn noise.)

Shopping here, once I got the hang of bargaining, has been great fun. I’m still amazed at what these little shack like shops pack away, and how the shopkeepers (actually their lackeys) can lay their hands on items in no time, often from some upstairs corner.

I have also gotten used to being waited on by men; most women’s shops are full of men, many very young. Some of them are very good at judging sizes – quite helpful. All store seem overstaffed, each person with a different role (folder, hanger, security guy, cashier, sales people, floor cleaner, mirror cleaner, you get the idea…). Some days you get 4 people helping you with a single simple request, thus making the interaction four times as complicated.

Many men also work in spas; I’d received a salon gift certificate for approximately $20 so my last evening in Gurgaon I headed there for a pedicure, manicure and head massage (yes, total was $20). Most of the service providers there are young men, who did a great job, I might add. At one point during my pampering three men were working on me at one time -- one massaging my feet, another my hands, another removing the oil from my hair with a towel. Rough life.

I will so miss the sense of humor I’ve encountered with most Indian people, made even better by the delayed reaction as a joke gets translated.

What else?!? So much to absorb in 4 short months. It’s been a great experience; I hope to dive into London in a similar fashion.