11/05/2005 – Markets and mayhem − 13 May, 2005
After sleeping for 14 hours the previous night, I finally felt well enough to try some food. I wasn’t going to be very adventurous, so I went for the continental breakfast (which continent they are talking about I am not sure). It seemed the safest choice on the menu and I definitely didn’t fancy ‘Aloo Paratha with Yoghurt and Pickles’. It’s a good job that I wasn’t too hungry because when the breakfast arrived there was more presentation than substance: a large silver tray with a large bowl covered in white cloth, a coffee pot the size of a coffee cup covered with a tea cosy the size of small pillow and a glass of grape juice. With trepidation I opened up my feast and learned a couple more new things about India. Lesson one: Unless you like camp coffee (you know, the chicory ‘enhanced’ sweet coffee syrup your mum used to make ‘iced coffee’), really don’t bother… have tea! A good old cup of chai is the obvious choice in India. Second lesson: if you want something to eat that is larger than a button mushroom, then don’t choose muffins! I didn’t know you could actually make a muffin that small!
On the way in to work I spotted my first dead dog on the road. Not too bad considering the traffic. Along the sides of the roads, where there is government owned space, there are many travelling folk. Lots of people in makeshift tents right next to piles of rubbish that the cows seem to have taken a liking (I am glad they have stronger stomachs than myself!). Scattered amongst the tents are a few constructions that look like slightly pointed loaves of malt bread. These are also huts, built around a structure of sticks and made entirely from mud. Apparently, many of these people come in from Rajasthan and live there for a while until the government moves them along. A few days later they will reappear in the same place.
This evening, Anurag kindly took me sightseeing again. We did not have much planned, just a quick trip to the Lotus temple and then on to a market. However, it did entail a trip with Anurag’s famous driving! He is the only man I know who managed to get 3 speeding tickets in one day when he was in the UK.
The Lotus temple is a large building in the shape of a lotus flower. It is very striking with sharp angled petals almost converging at the apex. The building is made from white marble blocks and looks very much like a re-arranged version of the Sydney opera house; the small segments on the outside with larger segments toward the middle. In order to enter the temple it is required that you remove your shoes, your socks and all leatherwear. That counted me out because I was wearing my leather boxer shorts. The temple grounds really are peaceful place and well maintained with quadrants of grass interspersed by well groomed trees, and people quietly wandering around (yes, more wandering) and small green parrots flying in groups of three or four between the trees.
Back to the car, 10 rupees parking charge (8 pence), and we were off again. Delhi is a place of paradoxes. You can be driving along a very modern, well maintained road of three lanes (actually, it is two lanes but most ‘Delhites’ like to squeeze out a third) and pass a couple of large elephants carrying wood. It’s like driving down the M25 and seeing someone with a pair of shire horses coming in the opposite direction! You can see an advert for the latest technology mobile phone right next to a collection of bicycles that look to be over 50 years old. The police are relatively scarce due to the constant traffic. Where they are present they will be attempting to conduct the traffic with hand signals and whistles. If you get stopped for a misdemeanour (goodness knows what that might be) then 20 rupees may get you going again. The few police cars I have seen look like something out of Dick Tracy; 1950’s style cars with the rotating ‘police squad’ flashing light. Blue lights for police, red lights, it seems, for dignitaries or politicians. If you do visit, please try not to require an ambulance. The ambulances I have seen are very basic micro-vans. There is barely enough room to contain a stretcher, let alone a defibrillator! Another paradox from the land that is renowned for medical research.
The craft market we visited seemed to cater for tourists or people from out of town. It is a permanent market, so all of the stalls are built with bricks and are laid out very nicely. The array of goods is what you would expect, ranging from exquisitely painted, lacquered pots, elephants and boxes, to large pieces of solid wooden furniture. One of the specialities is pashmina. The material is extremely fine, very light but very warm (and costs a fortune in the UK, so girls, if you fancy one, just drop me a mail but be quick because I leave on Friday!). The array of silks and cloth is also amazing; it is no wonder that the women are always dressed so well and so brightly. As I passed each stall, a very polite person would ask of my interest in their goods. I felt like a walking stack of rupees, which made me feel a little uncomfortable. The main difference here and markets elsewhere is that the vendors always seem to remain impeccably polite; even when bargaining! There really isn’t too much pressure. Anurag queried the price of some nice wooden coasters to be told, “250 rupees”. He laughed and said to the smoking market-stall holder, “No, I meant for me, not for him” pointing at me. The vendor replied, “I was giving the price for you. If it had been for him on his own, then it would be 300 rupees!” 50 rupees is just over 60 pence, or to put it in percentage terms, he just upped his price by 20% - imagine buying a car that goes up in price by 20% just because you look like you can afford it!
We left the sandalwood smelling market behind us and headed back to the hotel with the waning moon looking like a smile in the sky. Now I have to get some sleep because tomorrow I am being taken to Agra to see the Taj Mahal and surrounding sights. We leave at 6am because it is a 4 hour drive each way.
Number of power cuts: 1 in the office, 2 elsewhere
Number of near-misses: 13
On the way in to work I spotted my first dead dog on the road. Not too bad considering the traffic. Along the sides of the roads, where there is government owned space, there are many travelling folk. Lots of people in makeshift tents right next to piles of rubbish that the cows seem to have taken a liking (I am glad they have stronger stomachs than myself!). Scattered amongst the tents are a few constructions that look like slightly pointed loaves of malt bread. These are also huts, built around a structure of sticks and made entirely from mud. Apparently, many of these people come in from Rajasthan and live there for a while until the government moves them along. A few days later they will reappear in the same place.
This evening, Anurag kindly took me sightseeing again. We did not have much planned, just a quick trip to the Lotus temple and then on to a market. However, it did entail a trip with Anurag’s famous driving! He is the only man I know who managed to get 3 speeding tickets in one day when he was in the UK.
The Lotus temple is a large building in the shape of a lotus flower. It is very striking with sharp angled petals almost converging at the apex. The building is made from white marble blocks and looks very much like a re-arranged version of the Sydney opera house; the small segments on the outside with larger segments toward the middle. In order to enter the temple it is required that you remove your shoes, your socks and all leatherwear. That counted me out because I was wearing my leather boxer shorts. The temple grounds really are peaceful place and well maintained with quadrants of grass interspersed by well groomed trees, and people quietly wandering around (yes, more wandering) and small green parrots flying in groups of three or four between the trees.
Back to the car, 10 rupees parking charge (8 pence), and we were off again. Delhi is a place of paradoxes. You can be driving along a very modern, well maintained road of three lanes (actually, it is two lanes but most ‘Delhites’ like to squeeze out a third) and pass a couple of large elephants carrying wood. It’s like driving down the M25 and seeing someone with a pair of shire horses coming in the opposite direction! You can see an advert for the latest technology mobile phone right next to a collection of bicycles that look to be over 50 years old. The police are relatively scarce due to the constant traffic. Where they are present they will be attempting to conduct the traffic with hand signals and whistles. If you get stopped for a misdemeanour (goodness knows what that might be) then 20 rupees may get you going again. The few police cars I have seen look like something out of Dick Tracy; 1950’s style cars with the rotating ‘police squad’ flashing light. Blue lights for police, red lights, it seems, for dignitaries or politicians. If you do visit, please try not to require an ambulance. The ambulances I have seen are very basic micro-vans. There is barely enough room to contain a stretcher, let alone a defibrillator! Another paradox from the land that is renowned for medical research.
The craft market we visited seemed to cater for tourists or people from out of town. It is a permanent market, so all of the stalls are built with bricks and are laid out very nicely. The array of goods is what you would expect, ranging from exquisitely painted, lacquered pots, elephants and boxes, to large pieces of solid wooden furniture. One of the specialities is pashmina. The material is extremely fine, very light but very warm (and costs a fortune in the UK, so girls, if you fancy one, just drop me a mail but be quick because I leave on Friday!). The array of silks and cloth is also amazing; it is no wonder that the women are always dressed so well and so brightly. As I passed each stall, a very polite person would ask of my interest in their goods. I felt like a walking stack of rupees, which made me feel a little uncomfortable. The main difference here and markets elsewhere is that the vendors always seem to remain impeccably polite; even when bargaining! There really isn’t too much pressure. Anurag queried the price of some nice wooden coasters to be told, “250 rupees”. He laughed and said to the smoking market-stall holder, “No, I meant for me, not for him” pointing at me. The vendor replied, “I was giving the price for you. If it had been for him on his own, then it would be 300 rupees!” 50 rupees is just over 60 pence, or to put it in percentage terms, he just upped his price by 20% - imagine buying a car that goes up in price by 20% just because you look like you can afford it!
We left the sandalwood smelling market behind us and headed back to the hotel with the waning moon looking like a smile in the sky. Now I have to get some sleep because tomorrow I am being taken to Agra to see the Taj Mahal and surrounding sights. We leave at 6am because it is a 4 hour drive each way.
Number of power cuts: 1 in the office, 2 elsewhere
Number of near-misses: 13
