Friday, November 11, 2011

Delicious & Delirious Delhi

How do you describe a city? What words should I use to explain the beauty, chaos, filth, the people and what more of this strange yet beautiful city. Delhi. New Delhi. This is about both.

Driving once in a while through Delhi, doing some business, eating out in some restaurants and attending a wedding party was definitely not close enough for me to say that I got to know Delhi. I am afraid of saying it now also, although I came some big steps closer.

Delhi. What a strange strange city. Obviously it is overcrowded, something I noticed while visiting Jama Masjid, a mosque from where an enormous labyrinth of houses and markets (bazars) start. Entering from the Eastern side, we walked through small little streets, inhabited by Muslims mainly, and with quite the amount of goats, since they were preparing for some festival. They (the Muslims, not the goats) were looking at us as if we came from Mars.
It was a bit busy....



All nice little courtyards (and other tourists)

To capture the feeling of these bazars, one has to have visited one. The colours, the smells, the people, the architecture (or the lack of it), it all blends together into one big chaotic (for me), yet somehow efficient big market. Everything is for sale. Everything is a bargain.

Everybody has electricity at least!
 Coming closer to Jama Masjid, the crowd gets denser and we decided to walk inside the mosque-complex, situated on a small hill, just high enough to overlook the surrounding area. An oasis amidst people, shops & animals (we've seen camels, goats, pigs, cows, chickens - and we did not visit a farm or a zoo...).

Jama Masjid
It was time to get out of this chaos and see if we could find that one restaurant we read about somewhere on Chandni Chowk-road. By looking at the map, I had seen this was a broad road with many restaurants and I expected it to be a nice promenade. Ok, I did not come prepared. Chandni Chowk turned out to be one of the oldest and now definitely the busiest street in Delhi. With more markets, more colors, less dirt this time, but overwhelming for sure.

View from Jama Masjid

The police helped us find that nice little restaurant where we were the only guests and were stared upon while we ate our vegetarian dishes. It was good! And no, not too spicy, what the waiters and the owner and the friends of the restaurant kept on asking us...

Chandni Chowk
Next day we would go cycling through Delhi. That turned out to be something even more amazing. About that adventure you'll read in my next post....




Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Photo-document of visit to Agra - Taj Mahal & Red Fort

The Taj Mahal

Unidentified man at trainstation in Agra

1 out of 4 towers of the Taj Mahal

Me at the Red Fort complex in Agra

View from the Red Fort

Hold on!

Outside one of the entrance gates to the Taj Mahal
Street in Agra

Red Fort in Agra

Me again

Yet another one of the many beautiful buildings inside the Red Fort

It must be the color of the stone why they call it a Red Fort

Entrance building to the Taj Mahal

Marble area around the Taj Mahal

A Taj tower

The Taj & an Indian woman

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Diwali celebrated or how I became Hindu

Lakshmi - goddes of wealth
Yesterday was Diwali, a by almost all Indians celebrated holiday - also known as the festival of lights. So many houses were lit by christmas-like colored bulbs, and lots of fireworks lit all day & night long.

My neighbour's house entrance, decorated for Diwali

In the evening we went to my employer's home to celebrate if. Before we could eat & drink we had to perform a ritual knows as Lakshmi Puja. According to tradition people would put small oil lamps outside their homes on Diwali and hope Lakshmi will come to bless them. Goddess Lakshmi is worshipped by those who wish to acquire or to preserve wealth. It is believed that Lakshmi goes only to those houses which are clean and where the people are hardworking. She does not visit the places which are unclean/dirty or where the people are lazy.

My appartment block, with decorated balconies

Outside the gate of the appartment block I live in

Entrance of a house lit with candles
As I was told when I left my flat, I should have left either the lights on or a window open, for then Lakshmi would also come and bless my home. Unfortunately, I did neither, so chances are this is going to be a bad year for me!

For this ritual we lit many candles and placed them around the house and in front of a small shrine where small statues of the goddess were placed. Then we all got a red dot on our forehead and a sort of lace tight around your right arm. All the time we were supposed to sing or chant a song, but here we had a laptop with the correct song playing during the ritual.

Fireworks!

After this ritual we sat, ate and drank and started lighting fireworks on the streets. No one lost any fingers or got burned. At least, not anyone I was with....

Me, a converted Hindu (with what's left of the red dot)

Monday, October 24, 2011

Getting registered in India is like Facebook controlling your privacy..

It was almost like a Fawlty Towers episode (not the one I link to though), without the main character of John Cleese, but including a lot of Manuel's. The seemingly uncontrolled officials going around and in and out of the offices, coming back because they forget something, not understanding me and vice versa. It all wants to look official, but to me it was anything but. Funny though!

So, to get registered in Gurgaon you need a couple of things. Lots of paperwork, your passport, 4 photographs and quite the amount of time and patience.

We went to the local courthouse in Gurgaon, a 5 story building somewhere what seemed to me on the outskirts of the city. Outside as well as inside it is crowded with people waiting and walking, walking and waiting. Elevators are out of service. Everybody needs something done. And just as you would expect, no real waiting queues are to be seen. Of course there are, you just need to know how they work.

Waiting outside the FRO office which is at the back
The office I had to go to, the FRO, or Foreigners Registration Office, was located in a small room, with what seemed to be one main Official guy doing the work. The others, I figured out first, sitting on their plastic chairs, must have been people doing some last-minute filling out of their paperwork. The people standing around were those waiting for their audience with the Official and having him tell them that their paperwork was not right, after which they would be sitting down and scribbling down missing signatures, dates and what more. At least, that's what I thought.

Ah, waiting and writing and looking busy

Of course I did not have to stand in line, a colleague of mine from the office did that, while urging me to sit down outside the office. But it was far to interesting inside the office for me to just sit and wait.

For the last couple of years, a strong discussion has been going on concerning governments and big companies alike (facebook), archiving too much of people's personal data. Can it be controlled? And what happens with our phone numbers, addresses, passport details after we have filled them out digitally on all the new portals that we have these days?

The records!
In India, no such concerns. All paperwork is just up for grabs at the Gurgaon FRO office. Just look at the pictures below. The colorful books are the registration records since 1997 (the oldest year I found). I am in there as well now. It took me 2 trips though, my paperwork was obviously not correct. The second time we entered the room to get my papers processed, I understood what everyone was doing there.

The people sitting on the plastic chairs are actually writing down all data into these colorful books. They are the lower officials. Our main Official is just flipping through the paperwork given to him, and nodding yes or telling you what is wrong. Yet another guy is running around making photocopies. That machine must not be in close, because it takes him 10 minutes for each copy (and evidently, he takes each paper separately from the applicant and only upon finishing the full registration, will he go out for the next copy). Sometimes he forgets something, and he comes rushing back.

Paperwork (waiting to be) archived?
Of course, like in any openly corruptable society, every now and then, some people skipped the lines to offer some candy or nice wrapped boxes with who knows what kind of presents. These were put by the assistants into the only lockably storage units in the room. Obviously these gifts are more important then the records kept :)


The open door filing storage

Once done, the paperwork I handed in is kept in loose files, wrapped tight with a shoelace and then put somewhere in the open archive. No KGB stories here.

A registration form of an American lady at the Palmtree hotel, I decided not to publish any passport copies (which I have though :)


That's me, being registered in the 2011 green book
Ah well, I got myself yet another registration number, and an interesting look into the local governments working.

It seemed strange, inefficient like hell, but oh so funny.