Sensory Overload

I don’t know where to begin. I think I am suffering from a severe case of culture shock and can’t properly sort out my thoughts. Seth and I boarded the Athens-Delhi flight, but had a layover in Bahrain (an island in the Persian Gulf). As soon as we entered the terminal we were the odd ones out. I was wearing a long dress and a sweater--to respect the conservative dress code-- but was the only lady without her head covered. When I went to use the bathroom there was a porcelain squat toilet (basically a hole in the ground) without a door. Let’s just say I had to put my ideas of privacy aside and adapt to the Bahrain style. Oh, and while I was waiting for the squat toilet, the lady in front of me asked me to hold her baby. She took her sweet time and I awkwardly held her baby who looked absolutely terrified. It was an uncomfortable experience for both parties.

When we got to Delhi I was completely speechless. I had no idea what to expect, which was probably for the best. It’s hard to describe the city, but I am going to try my best., First of all, a few people warned me about the smells. Apparently the hot September heat just exacerbates the natural smells of India. Lonely Planet describes the smell as sweat, chai, smoke, urine, and curry all mixed together, yet individually identifiable in one whiff. I think this description is dead on. The smell sounds terrible, but it’s actually not bad. Distinct, but not bad. The heat bakes the scent onto your skin, hair, and clothing, but I got used to it quickly. In fact, the smell is the least of my troubles.

As to be expected, the city is noisy: people are shouting at each other, taxis and trucks honk their horns constantly, and every once in a while music is blasted from a store front. Lastly, people were everywhere. Pedestrians, shopkeepers, vendors, and beggars crowded the sidewalks and spilled onto the streets. The people weaved in and out of the auto-rickshaws and taxis cabs, without hesitation, and it causes more honking and reckless drivers. I experienced all of this from behind the window of my taxi.

Here is a picture of a bus in Delhi. It is common to see people sitting on top of the bus or hanging off the side, because the city is so crowded.

Seth and I checked into the hotel, took a nap, and then attempted to find the only government approved travel center in Delhi. It was essential that we went to this specific travel center, because many to the travel agencies in Delhi are scams. It was also important that we booked our next few days through an agency, because India is huge and transportation is confusing.

It took us a few hours to find the travel center. During the hunt we were harassed by male students who “just wanted to practice their English.” This is one of the most prominent scams in Delhi; men pretend to be students around the Connaught Place area and then give you false directions, usher you into stores and taxis of their bosses, and you end up pay money for something you didn‘t want. Don’t worry, we ignored them and kept on walking. A little bit further down the road a lady came up to us with a child who wasn’t properly fed and missing a leg. I know that you aren’t supposed to give anyone money, so I didn’t, but I was so emotionally overwhelmed at the sight of her child that I teared up. I was wearing sunglasses to hide the vulnerability in my eyes, but I guess you could tell I was foreign from a mile away. Other people tried to heckle us into their stores or buy their unidentifiable food substances from their carts, but we just kept going and tried to look like we knew what the hell was going on.

This is a picture of women hanging off the back of a small pickup truck. Some of the ladies on the sides (not pictured) were holding babies on their hips, while other small children held on tight.


(Side note: I was wearing my ugly walking shoes to navigate the dirty streets. 10 minutes in, I was covered in 8 blisters and within the half hour they were rubbed raw.)

We finally got to the center and we were warned by the person helping us: “If you pick the wrong travel agency, your wonderful trip will be an absolute NIGHTMARE.” He really emphasized the word nightmare. I’m not going to go into what I was thinking this moment, but I was so stressed out and worried with all of the “what ifs.” I asked the man to suggest a reputable agency in the area and we were pointed to some place down an alley that was conveniently used as a public restroom.

Is it any surprise that the travel agency was a hole in the wall? When Seth and I were walking down the alley the smell was so atrocious I wanted to turn back around. There were people with little make-shift stands set up on the side of the road and they were all shouting at us to visit their area. We tried to pretend we didn’t speak English to throw the vendors off, but Seth speaks Portuguese and I barely speak any Spanish. That plan clearly failed.

(Unfortunately I din't get a ton of pictures of Delhi--I was too nervous to whip my camera out--but I will when I return to Delhi in a few days).

I am going to try to make this novel of a post a bit shorter. Cue the bullet points:

-We get to Grace Travel (or whatever it was called) with the intention of traveling to Dharamsala (the home base for the Tibetan government in exile and the Dalai Lama) or Varanasi (on the Ganges River). We have 6 days to kill before Brett, another friend from Columbia, joins us in Delhi and we still aren’t sure when Avery is meeting us.

-We settle on Dharamsala, because its in the Himalayas and should be much cooler than the inferno that is Delhi. A friend of mine also studied abroad here and sold me on the city.

-The agency tries to figure out our itinerary, but I have read up on scams, and even though this place was government approved, we were not giving out any more info then necessary. The man tried to tell us that if we have extra time after Dharamsala, we should head up to Kashmir, stay on a houseboat, etc. RED FLAG! Kashmir is very dangerous and many
Delhi agencies try to con you into heading up and exploring. They have connections in the city and make a commission off of your ignorance. (At this point I am kicking Seth under the table and say, “Wow, that sounds awesome! I wish we could, but we are leaving for Vietnam on the 29th [bold-face lie] so we can’t make the trip.”)

-We book our Dharamsala trip: a driver picks us up, takes us 5 hours away to Chandigarh for the night. The next day we set off to Dharamsala and spend 3 nights in the mountains. On the fourth day he meets back up with us and we go to Amritsar, see the Golden Temple, and head back to Delhi to meet Brett. We get all the details written out in the contract. I make him add “no hidden fees” and a bunch of other things to secure what we were promised. I get copies of all of our hotel confirmations and receipts. The men think I am neurotic, but I am just taking all necessary precautions.

-And then we passed out at the hotel. We were exhausted, my feet were in pain, and we had big plans for the next morning.

Despite my somewhat alarming post, we are enjoying ourselves and absolutely love what we have seen of Dharamsala.We are at the mercy of internet cafes, since there is no Wi-fi in our hotels, but I will write our update on and Dharamsala before we leave. Oh, and I will add pictures next time I am at an internet café. I’ve been here for 2 hours and I have places to go and the Dalai Lama’s Temple to see.