Mike and I are on our third day in India and I'm trying to process the flood of impressions that I have taken in during this short time. I'm going to satrt with some free association of things we've seen.
Walking near the hotel on our first day, we had one guy after another herd us toward their shop of choice. It makes me hesitant to try walking around by myself for fear one of these guys won't leave me alone. In the shops there is a salesman dedicated to each section of the shop, handing you off from one to the other as you move through the building. The pressure to buy is polite but palpable.
The women are so colorful and beautiful. They are dressed so festively to match any collection of women dressed up for a fancy party or gala event. How beautiful they must feel.
There were two beggar women banging repeatedly and incessantly on each of our car windows as we sat at a stoplight in an intersection crowded with horse-drawn carts, scooters, tuktuks, rickshaws, bicycles, and pedestrians. The woman on our right side was holding a baby not older than four months and when she caught my attention she would gesture of feeding the child. I would smile and nod but look away. She would immediately begin tapping forcefully on the window. It was the longest red light of my life.
There are children, small children, playing alongside the freeway. There's are families of four riding on scooters and motorbikes. Only the father/driver is wearing a helmet. The chaos of the traffic makes it unbelievable that a parent would risk a child's life that way. I'm afraid of even trying to cross the street.
In the small towns there are water buffalo and cows and dogs all walking down the middle of the street with cars and tuktuks and scooters all waiting and honking to get some vehicle or some animal to move out of the way.
Our trip to Agra and the Taj Mahal was a ten-plus-hour trip. We hired a car and driver, Iraj, and were met by a guide, Ishi, when we arrived in Agra. I really felt our affluence as we drove through the town of Agra. The dirt and the poverty is indescribable. I will post pictures as soon as I get them downloaded from the camera.
Riding around in a car is harrowing. The horns are constantly tooting and there are vehicles coming at you from all directions. We've been told by two different drivers that all you need to drive in Delhi are three things: a good horn, good brakes, and good luck. So far we've been lucky. On our return from Agra yesterday there was some disturbance on the brand new, opened last month, expressway. We couldn't tell if it was an accident or what. As we got closer, we saw large stones scattered on the freeway and many people gathered on the road. Our driver never stopped, just kept weaving around the rocks and people. Not knowing what they were protesting, I threw my shawl around my head to cover my differentness. It was perhaps more exciting than when we were driving through the jungle in Belize and we had to have an armed guard to protect us from Guatemalan robbers who cross the border to steal from tourists visiting the Maya ruins. No harm came to us either time.
The countryside is so green. Now that I'm experiencing the monson today, I'm reminded of what makes things green. That would be rain. We saw mostly fields of rice and corn. There were many women working in the fields. You could tell it was women even from a distance because of their brightly colored sarees or salwar kameez they were wearing. We saw many people carrying on the heads unbelievably large loads of sticks or bags stuffed with whatever they were harvesting.
Walking near the hotel on our first day, we had one guy after another herd us toward their shop of choice. It makes me hesitant to try walking around by myself for fear one of these guys won't leave me alone. In the shops there is a salesman dedicated to each section of the shop, handing you off from one to the other as you move through the building. The pressure to buy is polite but palpable.
The women are so colorful and beautiful. They are dressed so festively to match any collection of women dressed up for a fancy party or gala event. How beautiful they must feel.
There were two beggar women banging repeatedly and incessantly on each of our car windows as we sat at a stoplight in an intersection crowded with horse-drawn carts, scooters, tuktuks, rickshaws, bicycles, and pedestrians. The woman on our right side was holding a baby not older than four months and when she caught my attention she would gesture of feeding the child. I would smile and nod but look away. She would immediately begin tapping forcefully on the window. It was the longest red light of my life.
There are children, small children, playing alongside the freeway. There's are families of four riding on scooters and motorbikes. Only the father/driver is wearing a helmet. The chaos of the traffic makes it unbelievable that a parent would risk a child's life that way. I'm afraid of even trying to cross the street.
In the small towns there are water buffalo and cows and dogs all walking down the middle of the street with cars and tuktuks and scooters all waiting and honking to get some vehicle or some animal to move out of the way.
Our trip to Agra and the Taj Mahal was a ten-plus-hour trip. We hired a car and driver, Iraj, and were met by a guide, Ishi, when we arrived in Agra. I really felt our affluence as we drove through the town of Agra. The dirt and the poverty is indescribable. I will post pictures as soon as I get them downloaded from the camera.
Riding around in a car is harrowing. The horns are constantly tooting and there are vehicles coming at you from all directions. We've been told by two different drivers that all you need to drive in Delhi are three things: a good horn, good brakes, and good luck. So far we've been lucky. On our return from Agra yesterday there was some disturbance on the brand new, opened last month, expressway. We couldn't tell if it was an accident or what. As we got closer, we saw large stones scattered on the freeway and many people gathered on the road. Our driver never stopped, just kept weaving around the rocks and people. Not knowing what they were protesting, I threw my shawl around my head to cover my differentness. It was perhaps more exciting than when we were driving through the jungle in Belize and we had to have an armed guard to protect us from Guatemalan robbers who cross the border to steal from tourists visiting the Maya ruins. No harm came to us either time.
The countryside is so green. Now that I'm experiencing the monson today, I'm reminded of what makes things green. That would be rain. We saw mostly fields of rice and corn. There were many women working in the fields. You could tell it was women even from a distance because of their brightly colored sarees or salwar kameez they were wearing. We saw many people carrying on the heads unbelievably large loads of sticks or bags stuffed with whatever they were harvesting.
Sandi, thanks so much for sharing your experience via blog! India is familiar to me only because our pastor has visited there numerous times and willingly shares his love of the people and country. I know it must be overwhelming your first time there, but Tom tells us it grows easier each trip. I can't even count how many times he's been!
ReplyDeleteDo you realize we have the same initials???
Sherrey Meyer
Oh Sandi, this is wonderful! I'm so excited to follow your adventure and impressions of India!
ReplyDeleteyou will be changed by your experiences in India, so different than our life and normalties we have here. Brandi had similar visuals when in Jakarta, Indonesia, a culture shock for sure. Thanks for sharing.
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