My plans of a busy day around Delhi have diminished to a few small trips for small purchases I have decided are necessary before Rishikesh. The reason I have reverted to a pseudo shut-in state is the street out front of my hotel. I've seen many streets which obtain economic growth but suffer social decay because of tourism. Paharganj is the worst so far. Much worse than La Rambla in Barcelona, Thamel in Nepal, the old city of Varanasi, Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe and High Street in Capetown.
The street itself is dusty and very dirty. The stone is stained from so many men spitting so much red paan (dyed chewing tobacco) while they conduct their daily business. You can easily spot where a food stand was set up due to a mound of discarded plates and food waste on the ground. It's a constantly game of dodging this filth and the moving targets around you. The main obstacles (or maybe I'm the obtacle) are the sporadic procession of cycle rickshaws, motorbikes and cars down an otherwise busy pedestrian street. I've been hit a few times by cycle rickshaws but have heeded the warning honks of the fast bikes and slow cars.
This is Delhi and it's to be expected I guess. The chaos, noise and dirt represent a concentrated version of most Indian cities. The energy runs through the streets and the movement fuels a perpetual motion of economy on many scales.
The money to be made of tourists is so great relative to the local economy. This after all is a country where 25% or 250 million people survive on less than 20 rupees (50 cents) per day. The minimum wage is officially around 80 rupees per day. I spend 1000 rupees per day and I am on the low end of the tourist spectrum. Because of this massive difference, so many people come to streets like Paharganj to try their luck. They will chase you down the street selling locks, hash, maps and many more things I haven't waited to figure out. They will try to clean your ears or dirty your shoes and then offer to clean them. My blonde hair is terrible for attracting this. Touts try anything to get me to stop, “Hey I know you, we've met before. Remember me?” Reaching out and grabbing. They never can guess where I'm from, Canada isn't big enough and I don't look American. Israelis I've travelled with are always amazed when people start speaking Hebrew to them. The funniest thing for me is when I'm approached by an Indian with a fake Aussie accent, “Want to look my shop, mate?'.
It must be worth the long shot, the constant rejection these touts and vendors receive. To be ignored and left behind by so many people so many times throughout the day. From their perspective I must be very rude, I don't stay a word and sometimes don't even look at them.
I'm starting to rethink not giving money to beggars. How I feel about the matter really makes no difference, they either get some money for food or they don't. I've been at a food stand and refused to buy milk for a mother and her child. How can I reconcile that?
I almost hit someone who tried to put a Q-tip in my ear. I think he got the better of me because smiled as I walked away.
This chaos and disorder is the reason why for so many visitors, India is a love/hate relationship. It is an intense, unrelenting experience. I don't love or hate any of it when I'm out there. I numb myself to the action around me and process it all later. It's been the best way for me to experience, by myself, hectic train rides, harassment on the street and seeing many new aspects of this culture. The downside is when I do find something beautiful, like a genuine conversation and connection with someone whose never talked to a foreigner, I have to snap myself back into the moment. There are so many interesting, beautiful and ancient things in this country but you need the right moments to appreciate them. You need to endure and bring your head up at the right moment to really take in the good experiences.
This is all coming to an end for me, at least for a few months, as I head to the tranquil destination of Rishikesh, only 8 hours North of here.
No comments:
Post a Comment