Transistions

April 13, 2002-9 ½ Hours

I now know how many bad movies I can watch in one sitting. It may not be my personal best, but I sat through three awful flicks on the 7:45 AM plane from Sydney to Hong Kong yesterday. It was a 9 ½ -hour flight & I was able to see Texas Rangers, Black Knight, & Joe Somebody. I also got acquainted with the video game of Hangman that was one of three available at my seat. Ah, my seat. We usually like to sit in an exit row, & our second choice is bulkhead seating. It provides more legroom & there’s no one leaning back into our laps. We were able to get exit row seats from Sydney to Hong Kong & bulkhead seating from Hong Kong to Delhi on our Cathay Pacific flight. We had all the leg room we needed, but because the tray tables have to be in the arm rests, the controls for the audio & video were on the inside of the arm rest. That took up an awful lot of room & David was so crammed in he thought he’d have a bruise on the side of his thigh.

Our flight was smooth & got in ½ hour early. Security wasn’t overly heavy, but we did have to take out the battery from the laptop & send the computer, battery, & case through x-ray separately. We have a real weakness for Asian babies & enjoyed watching them on our flight. There was one little girl of about six who was that I think David would have taken home. We’d eaten breakfast when we got to the airport at 5:30 AM & had another breakfast & lunch on the plane. The timing was such that we had a seven-hour layover in Hong Kong so we needed to eat again before the flight to Delhi. We passed up the chance to eat duck web soup & ox tripe & had one of the most tasteless Chinese meals we’ve ever eaten. At least David didn’t get sick this time. His last meal at the old Hong Kong airport was memorable for a month after. We had another meal on that flight for a grand total of five meals in twenty-four hours. Fortunately, airline portions are small & mediocre enough so I didn’t mind only eating half.

We arrived in Hong Kong at 2:30 PM their time & debated whether to take a train into the city. We’d been there twice before & decided we were tired enough to need some vertical sleeping space. By the time we got through customs & booked a room at the airport hotel, it was 4:00 PM. The hotel turned out to be a stunner with an ultra-modern lobby with a soft relaxing lavender & cream color scheme. We took it for only three hours ($US 50) since we had to leave time to eat & check in to the flight. We showered & I passed out. I don’t think David slept. I managed to cat nap on the flight from Sydney & get a couple of hours on the one to Delhi, but by the time we arrived in India, David was a walking zombie.

We ended up paying for a Coke in US$ at the Hong Kong airport so we could use their free Internet café & ended up with five Hong Kong dollars in change. It was worth about $US 0.65. We took on the challenge & found a postcard of the airport for $HK 3. The rest we put in a UNICEF envelope on the plane. Our excess Aussie cash ended up going into a Rotary International “puskie” (charity box).

We had an email from our travel agent with an explanation of the S. African Air debacle of the other day. There’d been a direct flight from Nairobi, Kenya to Cape Town through Johannesburg when the tickets were sent to us the end of March. That flight had been cancelled. There should have been no problem getting the re-issue with the change of planes in Johannesburg instead of a continuation of the same flight. David evaluated the ticket agent at SAA correctly. She was an incompetent “witch.”

5 ½ More

We slogged down to Gate 67 on what looked like an endless moving sidewalk. We were lucky. It could have been Gate 80. That’s when I realized we’d be the “others” from now on. Our flight was almost entirely Indian. During the 3-½ hours of the 5-½ hour flight that I was awake I was able to read our guidebook on India. Its history is chaotic & full of intrigue. It’s a wonder that since the British left & partition was implemented in 1947, they’ve been able to maintain a democracy under a parliamentary system. It’s corrupt & full of scandal & assassinations, but who are we to talk. There’s barely an infrastructure left, water is scarce & what is available is undrinkable. Poverty is rampant, crime & disease are overwhelming, & the air is visible, but not breathable. It’s the equivalent to smoking twenty cigarettes a day just to breathe the outside air in Delhi. There’s a particular problem with plastic refuse & a campaign has been launched to use recyclables instead. In some states plastic bags are outlawed. They clog what drainage there is & the animals that roam all over die slow agonizing deaths from ingesting them. So, it was natural when I wondered why they even bothered to spray the air on the plane before landing. I hate when they do that. I do love the disclaimer that says that the government has found the spray to be safe, but to cover your eyes if you wear contact lenses.

De- Scent

The airport at Delhi was everything I expected. I actually started to smell the city before the plane stopped taxiing. Words like shabby, run down, & filthy don’t quite capture the sense of this international terminal. Our ride was ready & waiting even though it was 2 AM Delhi time. Most cities around the globe enforce noise abatement & forbid flights landing or taking off during late night or early morning hours. Since India doesn’t seem to care about that, many international flights are scheduled so they land here at ungodly hours. This is a country that never sleeps although there were plenty of prone bodies on the traffic islands as we drove to the hotel. There’s a 9 12-hour time difference (behind us) between here & New York. We were given two wilted leis, an Indian tradition we were told, & proceeded to try to cram our luggage into the car. The car was a compact of some ilk, but the space problem wouldn’t have been so bad if a large petrol tank hadn’t taken up the trunk. Our suitcases rode strapped to a luggage rack on the roof of the car. It actually looked more secure than the way the Greeks piled it all in the trunk with pieces floating precariously over the road tied together with an elaborate array of bungee cords.
It turned out that we had plenty of time to get to the hotel, so on our way we stopped at the domestic airport to re-confirm our flights to Varanasi & Bombay (Mumbai). The entry road to the domestic airport was heavily barricaded & guarded by armed soldiers behind walls of sandbags. It was very reassuring. (?)

Ready, Set, Rip-Off

I’d expected to see cows wandering the streets during the day, but had assumed they would go home at night. Our guide told us that all the cows belong to someone & that they did indeed go home at night. There were several who hadn’t gotten the message or who’d lost their way. I wonder if they have a nursery rhyme dealing with this as we have Little Bo Peep? The cows were clustered on the sidewalks strolling among the homeless like four-legged ghosts as we made our way to the hotel.

Our reservation at the hotel was for that day, April 13, but check-in time wasn’t until noon. We were told that if the hotel had a vacant room for us, we’d be allowed to check in early, but if not, we’d have to wait in the lobby. They wanted to charge us $US300, but David was not having any of that. In his sleep deprived condition he was a persuasive bargainer. We ended up paying $US 100 with breakfast to get into a room immediately.

We’re at the Park Hotel in the Connaught Place sector. It’s in New Delhi & is said to be the closest thing to an upscale area as it gets here. Our room has a lot of old wood & marble detailing & trim. It’s not large, but is certainly larger than some of the European dollhouse sized rooms we’ve been in. The lobby & dining area are a bit tired but still elegant. I have no idea about the grounds.

At breakfast I asked the exquisite hostess who wore a diaphanous sari about what I should wear for touring. She agreed with the advice I’d gotten from the guide last night. Shorts are ok, but I’ll carry a sarong wrap with me for mosques. She suggested my fanny pack rather than my small shoulder bag for security. I’ll wear it with my t-shirt pulled out over it. I’ll be a vision. The laptop computer can be locked in the hotel safe or we will lock it in a suitcase. We may use a combination of both at different times.

David was smitten with the hostess & let her lead him through the breakfast buffet on a wonderful tutorial. He ended up with some rice & onion pancakes with lentil sauce, a coconut sauce, & a spicy sauce plus a sweeter pancake (paratha) with a very spicy pickled vegetable sauce. I tasted both pancakes & they were delicious. All food at the hotel is vegetarian unless otherwise marked. It’s heaven not to have to constantly check about pork. I don’t know if shellfish is popular here, but we’ll be ever vigilant.

Castes

I haven’t come to terms with my nose yet. It’s still visibly scarred & bothers me every time I look at it, which is often. I keep hoping for a “healing.” It’s much better than it was, but I’m a bit unsure of the final “look” which may be a year away. In any case, I decided to deal with it in India as if it was a misplaced caste mark. I don’t know what it would signify according to their interpretation, but I’m sure I’ll figure something out. Perhaps it’s the mark of the pale ones who worship the sun.

The caste system is alive & well here although the “untouchables” are now called the Scheduled Caste. They’re actually a political party with a lot of clout & have gotten many privileges in jobs & education. It’s kind of like our affirmative action. Racism is also alive here with Africans being discriminated against & paler skinned Indians being favored. Women have a long way to go. It doesn’t matter that they had a woman prime minister. There are unofficial ultrasound clinics where pregnant women can go to determine the sex of a baby & abort it if it’s not a boy. Girls are a liability to all but the wealthy since dowries & arranged marriages are still the rule. And “wife burnings” still abound. Some women have been able organize themselves into craft unions & collectives & a few have entered the professional world. But even the educated men who respect the women with whom they work prefer women to be modest, in the background, & home raising children.

Toby